Chapter Text
The first emergency broadcast arrived only shortly before the screaming did, before the heat became unbearable, before people were trying to get into each others houses for safety, before the bodies piled up just outside the windows.
Every screen in Sua's house lit up in unison- her tv, her phone, the old tablet she hadn't touched in almost a year, even the tiny display on her bedside radio began to waul, the awful sound seemed to drill straight through her bones as it flashed a blinding red.
She hardly understood all of what it had told her… well nobody could have honestly. Not with the signal breaking, static sounds and overlapping noises, but she'd understood enough of what she did manage to hear.
“Remain indoors.”
“Lock every entrance.”
“Do not respond to the voices outside, even if you recognise them.”
“Do not allow anyone inside under any circumstances.”
The message repeated again… and again… and again… and, ya guessed it- AGAIN.
It told her the exact same instructions until it was pinned to the very front of her brain, impossible to forget.
She'd decided that she needs to border herself into her house- she had enough food and necessities, as long as the water stayed on she’d survive. She shoved the dining table against the front door, dragged the sofa behind it, wedged every chair she owned beneath the handles of any windows, and, finally, pushed herself into the corner of her bedroom with her back against the wall, trying to convince her own heartbeat that it was time to quiet down.
Outside, tires turned hard enough to leave marks across the roads, a voice she recognised from when she’d gone to the Anakt Highschool yelled for help- Acorn, that was his name… Sua had never been fond of him, yet she was still thankful that another familiar voice belonging to his friend- Marty- had answered him. She heard a small crash, then both voices were gone. The following silence wasn’t the peaceful kind that Sua had always cherished, the kind where the refreshing scent of petrichor greeted her as she opened her windows, the kind where the air carried a pure, quiet felicity. No. It was tense, hungry. Even though her sealed windows, the sensation of both an uncomfortable heat and betrayal had managed to seep inside as it clung damply to her pale, seraphic skin.
The emergency warnings still continued between bursts of deafening static, never changing its messages.
“Do not let them inside.”
“Do not trust appearances.”
“Do not trust familiar voices.”
“If you are uncertain, keep the door closed.”
“Test them, look at their eyes, their teeth, their nails. Everything.”
Sua stared at the entrance of her home until her eyes began to burn. Minutes stretched into something shapeless, it could’ve been an hour, or maybe more like ten ten, perhaps longer. Time had stopped making sense the moment the city filled with these “visitors”. The almost real creatures, disguising themselves as loved ones- humans, that had infested the town. They were near perfect, only small things helped to distinguish them from genuine life forms: perfect teeth, irritated eyes, ears full of insects, they’re aura on photos, under their arms, dirt filled fingernails… and worst of all is how they kill whoever they can.
Suddenly, waking Sua from her daze, gentle knocks in a familiar tune echoed through her home.
It wasn’t frantic.
It wasn’t desperate.
It was soft, kind.
Like someone politely arriving a little earlier than the time they’d been invited.
Her stomach dropped so violently she thought she might actually throw up. Another knock in the same tune followed.
Then a small voice, muffled through the wood of the door and layers of furniture blocking its way, warm enough to make every muscle in her body forget the terrifying voice of the broadcast for a single second.
"Sua?" A pause. "Sua, it's me, are you alright?."
Mizi.
Of course it was Mizi.
Her voice carried the same bright softness it always had, even at a time like this, sounding as if she was smiling even when she wasn't. Sua was already halfway to the barricade before she caught herself, fingers digging into the edge of the dining table hard enough to bruise.
No.
No.
No.
The broadcast. The apartment was suddenly too quiet, every device hissing before it continued with its constant warnings once again.
"Remain inside.”
“Do not trust individuals, regardless of their familiarity"
“Regardless of their familiarity…” Those words repeated over and over again in Sua’s mind until the words merged into no more than an incoherent blur.
Another gentle knock, the tune began to slowly lose its cheerfulness.
"Sua?" This time Mizi laughed, small and breathless, exactly the way she always did after talking for too long without anyone answering, an awkward habit, "It's really hot out here, cmon… Sua…" She tapped against the door once again, the once bright song she’d played, now full of woe. "Lemme in…"
Sua squeezed her eyes shut, this hurt more than death at the hands of a visitor ever could.
She knew that laugh.
She knew every rise and fall in Mizi's voice.
Every little habit she'd picked up from years of being together.
Every tiny pause before she joked, every smile hidden between syllables. She knew her.
She knew her Mizi.
That could never be a visitor.
…
Right?
The broadcast crackled louder, as if it was warning her specifically, drowning out everything else.
“DO NOT LET THEM INSIDE.”
“VISITORS MAY PRESENT AS LOVED ONES.”
“THEY MAY SPEAK IDENTICALLY.”
“THEY MAY POSSESS ACCURATE MEMORIES AND KNOWLEDGE OF HOW TO ACT.”
“THEY MAY EVEN APPEAR INJURED, STILL DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR.”
Sua swallowed so hard it hurt her throat. Outside, Mizi shifted in place, the small scrape of her shoe against concrete so painfully ordinary that it made tears sting Sua's tired, bloodshot eyes.
"Sua?"
She called out to her again, quieter this time.
“…please?"
Sua didn't reply right away... her hand remained curled around the edge of the dining table, knuckles white, breathing shallow enough to make her chest ache from fatigue.
She could hear Mizi outside, patient in a way that somehow made the silence feel worse.
“Don’t trust familiar voices.” The broadcast reminded her once again.
Familiar.
Mizi was familiar… Mizi had always been familiar.
The idea that someone- no, more like something- could wear such an angelic voice as if it was only some borrowed clothing made Sua's stomach twist with too many emotions to single any out. She took one careful step toward the door but stopped well outside the reach of the peephole, both scared to see what awaited her on the other side, and scared that simply being seen through it might be dangerous.
"...I'm not opening it." The words came out quieter than she'd intended, yet the message had been given.
There was a short pause.
Then Mizi answered with a tiny, understanding hum rather than arguing.
"Okay."
…
Another pause.
…
"Can we still talk though?"
Sua stared at the floor, disappointed in herself… even if that thing wasn’t really Mizi, how could she find it in herself to leave someone who resembled her almost perfect out there all alone, and if that was really Mizi… how could she leave her outside to die?
How could she kill the one she loved the most in this universe.
"...If you're really Mizi..." Her throat tightened around the name, seemingly holding back a sob, "...then you'll know things nobody else does."
She expected resistance, anger, pleading, she expected Mizi to tell her she was being ridiculous, that she was just scared, that she needed to get a grip and unlock the stupid door before they both died. She would’ve even welcomed violence if it was from Mizi. But instead there was only yet another tiny pause, thoughtful.
"Okay," Mizi responded, confidence evident in her voice, "Ask me anything… it really is me Sua.”
The answer was so easy, so calm that it unsettled her more than if Mizi had shouted and screamed back at her.
Sua searched desperately for something no others except for them could ever know.
“When we were little... at Anakt- first year..." Her voice cracked, it was obvious she was on the verge of breaking. "...you hid something under my bed because you thought the teachers wouldn't find it… what was it?"
…
Silence, not long- barely even the time between a heartbeat.
Yet still, it was just enough for Sua to notice…
"An ipod," Mizi answered, voice cracking open the silence, "The left headphone was broken, so we both had to share the right one.” She laughed through her words, comforted by her memories with the girl she loved, who was now to scared to even see her, “You fell asleep before the second song had finished..."
Correct.
Exactly correct.
Sua swallowed, then continued with her interrogation.
"What did you call me after I tripped over and fell on the school's staircase?"
Another tiny, yet noticeable to those listening out for it, pause.
“A lovely jellyfish." Mizi giggled out softly through the door, "Because you crash and slip into everything!!”
Correct.
Even her laugh sounded right.
"What did I say the first time you managed to beat me at cards?"
…
Pause.
"You accused me of cheating!! You were all like, “Oh Mizi, how have you won? Your greatness is unmatched, you must be cheating!!” Her voice was theatrically dramatic in the way that it always was when she jokes around.
Sua laughed, “Hey!! I did not… it’s just you never won before!”
For a moment it was as if everything was normal again, as if the door between them didn’t exist, as if it was only them. Nothing else.
Then reality hit as Sua heard the static of her radio stop and the warnings began once again.
“What song did we make for music class in our last year?”
…
Pause.
“My Clematis… we would’ve passed too if we actually handed it in on time.”
Every answer was perfect, like lines lifted directly from memories Sua had almost forgotten herself.
Not close.
Not mostly right.
Precisely right.
Every time.
Not a single slip up, no stuttering, nothing but the truth.
Even the little details Mizi had teased her about years ago, the little details no one else should know, she answered without any hesitation… except for that tiny gap between each question and answer- that was somehow worse than any mistake.
It wasn't long enough to sound uncertain.
It was long enough to sound... deliberate.
Almost like someone was locating the correct page of a script before reading from it.