Jung Xiao's heart hammered in her chest, and her breath caught in her throat as she stood face-to-face with herself.
The figure behind her—a perfect mirror of her own body—smiled, but it wasn't a friendly smile.
It was twisted, and sinister, with eyes that gleamed too brightly in the dimly lit kitchen.
The figure leaned in closer, its cold breath brushing against her skin as it whispered, "You can't escape."
Jung Xiao felt her knees weaken.
The kitchen around her seemed to distort, the walls closing in as if they were alive, breathing.
The air grew thick, and heavy with the stench of something rotting. She tried to scream, but her voice wouldn't come out.
Panic surged through her, and she stumbled back, her hand searching for something to grab onto.
The other "her" stepped forward, its movements unnaturally fluid, like a predator stalking its prey.