twins
Mark stood in the hallway, staring at the door of the twins’ bedroom. His heart was pounding in a way that made him feel sick, the kind of sick you get when you know something terrible is coming but can’t do anything to stop it. The house was dark, save for the faint glow of a nightlight seeping under the door. That soft light was somehow worse than total darkness—it hinted at things unseen, horrors lurking just beyond perception.
He didn’t know how it had started, but he knew when it had gotten bad. Ever since their seventh birthday, something was off about one of them.
One of his boys.
It was little things at first—things only a father might notice. A slight difference in the way one of them smiled. A small shift in how one of them spoke, like they were testing out new vocal cords. Their favorite foods swapped overnight, like someone had turned a switch. And then, the nightmares began.
Mark’s wife,...