The Mimic Chapter 1 Novels & Stories

“We burned the body. This thing shouldn’t be alive.” I crouched down. No signs of struggle. No broken lock. Just… emptiness. And on the wall, scratched in a frenzied clawing: “You brought it home with you.” — Hurrying back upstairs, I found Sienna and Caleb halfway through breakfast, a tranquility heavy in the air. She looked up, eyes narrowing. “What is it now?” “The mimic escaped,” I said, adrenaline spiking. Sienna shot up. “No. I saw it die—”

Watching. His eyes didn’t blink. Didn’t waver. I was naked. Wet. Flushed. Fingers still between my thighs. He stepped forward. And I couldn’t breathe. --- End of Chapter One

The three mimics on the floor below lit up in Jack's perception like counterfeit bills under ultraviolet light, their false signatures suddenly, obviously wrong. Jack folded space. He materialized in the corridor of the forty-seventh floor face-to-face with a perfect copy of himself. Same dark-gold eyes. Same gauntlets. Same predatory stance. The mimic smiled with Jack's smile. "Hello, Father-blood." Jack didn't hesitate. He drove the compass directly into the mimic's chest. The device's reality-frequency resonance clashed with the construct's void-language foundation. The mimic shrieked, its form destabilizing, Jack's face melting into grey static.

The Vision skipped forward then as if skipping over something she didn’t want him to see. She smiled as she woke up to a strong smell of pine, thinking she had woken up from the awful dream. She tried to roll over but she was cuffed with silver chains. She was in a dungeon. She glanced around the room, starting to panic. ‘Jayce, Myra, somebody.’ She tried to mindlink them. “I wouldn’t bother, they can’t hear you.” The calm deep voice came from the shadows. “Who are you?” The voice that came out was not hers but Vivian’s.

Narcia’s P.O.V. The girls had dragged me back to the pack house, they blind folded me and giggled away merrily. “Can you see? How many fingers am I holding up and you better not lie to me because I will know?!” Mila warned. “Mila I can’t see a thing so I definitely cannot see how many fingers you are holding up!” I laughed at her, “good, because I wasn’t holding up any!” she laughed back. I heard footsteps approaching, “okay Ness.. are you ready?” I recognized Ebony’s voice a little further away from us. I started to get butterflies in the pit of my stomach. Who knew what I was in for?

And curiosity, in my world, always ended in blood. END OF CHAPTER 1

Everything seemed intact. But the note… The spy wasn’t coming from the outside. They were already here. Inside the warded tent, Mira moved toward the potion cache when she felt it. A shift. A breath that didn’t belong. She spun around—dagger drawn. But she was alone. Or so it seemed. Then her reflection blinked. And smiled. The mimic stepped from the shadows—a perfect copy of Mira, every freckle and line mirrored. But the eyes were wrong. Just a little too dark.

This was a mimic, a tape played through bad speakers, designed for a flinch. No one moved. The mimic laughed once and the hall went soft again, like a body preparing to spring. “Get ready,” Michal said, so low I only felt it where our bodies almost touched the same air. The hit, when it came, was from two directions. The door and the window, at once. The door took a battering ram masked as a shoulder; the window took a spiderweb of cracks that shivered across the glass like ice under a boot. “Left!” Sebastian snapped. Two shots. A cry. The thud of someone choosing the floor forever.

Instead, I clapped my hands together. A wave of Grey Flame erupted from my palms—not as a fire, but as a **reformatting command**. The shockwave hit the mimic mid-air. The girl's form didn't explode; it *de-rezzed*. The skin peeled away into square pixels, revealing the terrifying endoskeleton of glass and wire beneath. It hit the wall behind me, shattering into a thousand fragments of harmless data. But there were eleven more. "The transition is inevitable," the mimics said in unison, their voices overlapping into a sickening drone. "The Prime Mother has already begun the overwrite. Look outside, Weaver. See your new world."

From the far end of the hallway emerged two figures—Resistance soldiers, faces grim. But one of them wasn’t blinking. Ivy's heart jumped. "Don't move," Asher warned, raising his weapon. The second soldier lunged—too fast, too smooth. The mimic. It dropped its disguise mid-leap, revealing a swirling, featureless face with Ivy’s reflection glimmering in its surface. Asher fired three times—once to the chest, once to the head, once to the wall behind it. The mimic shrieked as it hit the ground, spasming before dissolving into ash.