The dream always began the same way.
Tyler stood in a vast corridor of mirrors, each one reflecting a version of himself that wasn't quite right. One wore a mask that gleamed pale white under the flickering light. Another dripped with crimson down his chin, smiling with a hunger that wasn't human. Others had eyes too black, too empty, or too wild to belong to him.
He tried to look away, but the mirrors wouldn't let him. His own reflection — the real one — stared back, trembling.
Then the voice came. Low. Velvet. Mocking.
"You can't hide from me. You never could. I've always been here."
A cold hand brushed his shoulder from behind. Tyler spun, but there was nothing. Only more mirrors, stretching forever.
"And when you sleep…" the voice whispered from everywhere at once. "…I wake."
Tyler screamed, but the sound died before it left his throat.
The mirrors shattered in unison.
And in the reflection of every broken shard, the masked version of himself stepped forward.