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[center][h2] Siobhan [/h2][/center]

Niko swallowed hard, glancing around as if he were tracking movement. 

"We haven't been watching you that closely, you know. Had no idea about the mirrors. No idea at all." He picked up the pace and started speed walking to the window. When he got to it, he ran his hand along the window lintel, tracing the spots where glass had once known a home - and his eyes lost their focus.

"Siobhan, what are you seeing in the mirrors? I can't see anything in them, I can't even see myself." Ana murmured, distracted by the space beyond the silver. "Can't even... I can't..."

Niko was mumbling to himself too, though with more purpose, more confidence, and with his eyes closed.

His eyes opened, his face shocked.

"I don't believe it."

He shook his head, and pressed his hand again the windowframe once more - to no avail.

He turned and shouted.

"There's no more fucking ma-" He was cut off abruptly by silence. His mouth kept moving, but the air between them blurred suddenly, and the noise simply stopped. In the mirrors, there was movement - movement not traceable to the physical world.

Movement in the shape of a man, stuck forever at the edge of your vision, almost as though they were avoiding it.

These presences, these additional things occupying the blackened space of the attic, living behind mirrors and behind Siobhan's mind - they could not speak. At least not with language.

But Siobhan felt her name being called. She could feel the weight of it on her mind - like a spring held down, like a mattress weighed upon, like paper folding.

Behind them, Niko was banging his fists against the barrier of nothing, that thick wall of thin air, screaming bloody murder. 

"Siobhan! We have to get to the window!" Ana finally said, holding down her own eyes with her hands, shaking.