Mara always knew something was wrong with Apartment 9. The hallway on the ninth floor was perfectly normal - eight doors, soft yellow lighting, muted gray carpets - but if you walked it at exactly 3:03 AM, there was always a ninth door. It appeared quietly, like it had always been there. No sound, no flash. Just a dark wooden door with a tarnished brass handle and a peephole that stared back at you. Mara had passed it three times now. Once in a dream, once on accident, and once on purpose. She never opened it. Not yet. Not Until tonight. Because tonight, someone had slipped a note under her door. On old paper, written in perfect ink "We've been waiting for you. - - Room Nine"
Mara stared at the note, her fingers tracing the strange, velvet texture of the old paper. It didn't feel like anything she'd ever touched before. Almost...alive. The hallway was quiet. She knew if she peeked out her door, Apartment 9 wouldn't be there yet. It only appeared at 3:03 AM, and her clock read 2:47. She paced. She chewed her nails. She considered calling her sister, then remembered how insane it would sound: "Hey...., so there's a ghost door that keeps showing up on my floor and now it's sending me mail". Nope. She was alone in this. At 3:01, she sat on the edge of her bed, fully dressed, holding a flashlight in one hand and the note in the other. 3:02. Her heart was pounding now, loud enough to hear in her ears.3:03... She stood. Opened her door. There it was. The ninth door stood at the end of the hall like it had been there for a hundred years. The air around it felt wrong - - thicker, stiller. Mara stepped forward slowly, the carpet muffling her every step. As she reached for the handle, her phone buzzed in her back pocket. One text. No name. Just a number: "DON'T OPEN IT"
Mara froze, her fingers hovering just above the brass handle. The message glowed on her screen: "DON'T OPEN IT." She stared at it. Her mind raced - was someone watching her? Did they know what this door was? or worse... who sent the note? She turned slowly, scanning the hallway. Empty. Silent. Just her, the door, and that single overhead light flickering like it couldn't make up its mind. But the notes - - " We've been waiting for you." And now the text " DON'T OPEN IT" So, who was lying? Her hand touched the doorknob. It was warm. She twisted it. The door didn't creak - - it breathed. It opened like it had lungs. Like it had been expecting her. Inside: darkness. Not just a dark room - the absence of light entirely. The kind of dark that doesn't wait for your eyes to adjust. But she stepped in anyway. And the door shut silently behind her. Suddenly click a single dim light flickered on overhead. Mara gasped. The room wasn't empty. It was a replica of her apartment -- the same layout, furniture, and even the half-drunk coffee mug she left by the window. Only... it was wrong. The shadows were too long. The silence was too heavy. And on the couch sat another Mara, smiling with her head slightly tilted. "Took you long enough," she said.
Mara stared at the version of herself on the couch. Same face. Same clothes. Same scar on her left knee from the bike crash in fifth grade. But the eyes weren't right. They were too calm. Too sure." Who are you?" Mara asked, keeping her voice steady. The other Mara leaned back, crossing one leg over the other like she'd been through this before. "That's the question, isn't it?" she said. "Who am I? Who are you? Which one of us leaves when the door opens again?" Mara's heart thumped in her chest. "Leave?" she asked. "What is this place?" Her double tilted her head. "It's a test. Or a trap. Depends how you do." That was when Mara noticed the mirror on the wall. It wasn't reflecting the room they were in - - it was showing the hallway outside Apartment 9. Her hallway. Someone was walking past. Her neighbor. But he didn't even glance at the door. No one could see it. No one could help her. She turned back to her double. "And if I fail." The other Mara smiled wider, and her teeth looked just a little too sharp. "Then you stay."
Mara backed away from the couch, her fingers curling into fists. "I'm not playing this game," she said. "I'm not staying here." The other Mara stood slowly. "Everyone says that at first. Suddenly, the room began to shift - the walls rippling like water, the air growing cold. Mara looked around. Her apartment was warping, folding in on itself like paper in a flame. "Time's almost up," the double whispered. "The door doesn't stay open forever. Mara spun toward the exit - but where it had once been, now stood a hallway of nine doors, each one marked with a Roman numeral: I through IX. Only one of them would lead her home. Behind her, the other Mara just watched patiently. Waiting. "I'll give you a hint," she said. "It's not the one you think it is." Mara didn't reply. She took a breath. Walked toward the doors. And without hesitating, opened the third. A blinding white light swallowed her whole - - CLICK. The door shut. A beat of silence. Then, back in the dim, distorted apartment... the other Mara sat back down on the couch. And Smiled. "See you soon."
Mara stared at the note, her fingers tracing the strange, velvet texture of the old paper. It didn't feel like anything she'd ever touched before. Almost...alive. The hallway was quiet. She knew if she peeked out her door, Apartment 9 wouldn't be there yet. It only appeared at 3:03 AM, and her clock read 2:47. She paced. She chewed her nails. She considered calling her sister, then remembered how insane it would sound: "Hey...., so there's a ghost door that keeps showing up on my floor and now it's sending me mail". Nope. She was alone in this. At 3:01, she sat on the edge of her bed, fully dressed, holding a flashlight in one hand and the note in the other. 3:02. Her heart was pounding now, loud enough to hear in her ears.3:03... She stood. Opened her door. There it was. The ninth door stood at the end of the hall like it had been there for a hundred years. The air around it felt wrong - - thicker, stiller. Mara stepped forward slowly, the carpet muffling her every step. As she reached for the handle, her phone buzzed in her back pocket. One text. No name. Just a number: "DON'T OPEN IT"
Mara froze, her fingers hovering just above the brass handle. The message glowed on her screen: "DON'T OPEN IT." She stared at it. Her mind raced - was someone watching her? Did they know what this door was? or worse... who sent the note? She turned slowly, scanning the hallway. Empty. Silent. Just her, the door, and that single overhead light flickering like it couldn't make up its mind. But the notes - - " We've been waiting for you." And now the text " DON'T OPEN IT" So, who was lying? Her hand touched the doorknob. It was warm. She twisted it. The door didn't creak - - it breathed. It opened like it had lungs. Like it had been expecting her. Inside: darkness. Not just a dark room - the absence of light entirely. The kind of dark that doesn't wait for your eyes to adjust. But she stepped in anyway. And the door shut silently behind her. Suddenly click a single dim light flickered on overhead. Mara gasped. The room wasn't empty. It was a replica of her apartment -- the same layout, furniture, and even the half-drunk coffee mug she left by the window. Only... it was wrong. The shadows were too long. The silence was too heavy. And on the couch sat another Mara, smiling with her head slightly tilted. "Took you long enough," she said.
Mara stared at the version of herself on the couch. Same face. Same clothes. Same scar on her left knee from the bike crash in fifth grade. But the eyes weren't right. They were too calm. Too sure." Who are you?" Mara asked, keeping her voice steady. The other Mara leaned back, crossing one leg over the other like she'd been through this before. "That's the question, isn't it?" she said. "Who am I? Who are you? Which one of us leaves when the door opens again?" Mara's heart thumped in her chest. "Leave?" she asked. "What is this place?" Her double tilted her head. "It's a test. Or a trap. Depends how you do." That was when Mara noticed the mirror on the wall. It wasn't reflecting the room they were in - - it was showing the hallway outside Apartment 9. Her hallway. Someone was walking past. Her neighbor. But he didn't even glance at the door. No one could see it. No one could help her. She turned back to her double. "And if I fail." The other Mara smiled wider, and her teeth looked just a little too sharp. "Then you stay."
Mara backed away from the couch, her fingers curling into fists. "I'm not playing this game," she said. "I'm not staying here." The other Mara stood slowly. "Everyone says that at first. Suddenly, the room began to shift - the walls rippling like water, the air growing cold. Mara looked around. Her apartment was warping, folding in on itself like paper in a flame. "Time's almost up," the double whispered. "The door doesn't stay open forever. Mara spun toward the exit - but where it had once been, now stood a hallway of nine doors, each one marked with a Roman numeral: I through IX. Only one of them would lead her home. Behind her, the other Mara just watched patiently. Waiting. "I'll give you a hint," she said. "It's not the one you think it is." Mara didn't reply. She took a breath. Walked toward the doors. And without hesitating, opened the third. A blinding white light swallowed her whole - - CLICK. The door shut. A beat of silence. Then, back in the dim, distorted apartment... the other Mara sat back down on the couch. And Smiled. "See you soon."
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