You step inside. The doors close. And something begins to breathe… with you.
Mara enters an elevator that stops on a floor that shouldn’t exist. At first, it’s subtle—a reflection that lags, footsteps that echo twice, a voice that answers too perfectly. Then the rhythm starts. Not around her, but inside her.
Something is learning how to match her—breath by breath, movement by movement—until the difference between imitation and identity disappears.
And once it aligns… it doesn’t need her anymore.
A slow, unsettling psychological horror about control, identity, and the terrifying moment your body stops belonging to you
