Chapter 3: Under the Surface

3

Bzzz. A chill zipped down my spine.

Goosebumps shot up my arms, like the AC had kicked on even though the vent was silent.

"Seriously, Rachel? Knock it off."

I tried to play it cool, expecting her to crack up and break the tension, but she just stared, eyes cold.

A few seconds dragged by. Something was wrong. Rachel didn’t break character—her gaze was flat, strange.

No smile, no spark. For a second, I wondered if I’d ever really known her at all.

My heart pounded. Every horror story she’d ever written, every prank she’d ever pulled—was this just another, or something else?

I froze. My muscles locked, my breath caught in my throat. I wanted to bolt for the door, but my body wouldn’t move.

It was like staring at a wax statue: all the right features, but none of the warmth. My mind screamed, Get out!

Suddenly, she stood and leaned in close.

Her chair scraped the floor, sharp and loud. Her face hovered inches from mine—I could smell peppermint gum on her breath.

"Hey."

Her breath was warm on my cheek. I flinched, not sure what she’d do next.

I jolted, my heart skipping a beat.

My hand flew to my chest, as if to steady my racing pulse.

She leaned even closer—then burst out laughing.

She doubled over, the tension shattering. Her laugh filled the room—wild, familiar, pure Rachel.

"Come on, little brother, you’re so easy!"

She ruffled my hair, all the menace gone, just her usual smug grin.

She kicked back in her chair, feet up, basking in her victory. "Classic. You never learn."

"You’re insane, Rachel! I nearly had a heart attack."

I tossed a pillow at her. She dodged, cackling. "You gotta admit, I’m a pro."

"Seriously, are you out of your mind?"

My voice cracked, a mix of laughter and leftover nerves.

She howled, her laugh echoing down the hall. Probably woke up the cat.

"Just wait. I’ll get you back one day," I said, resigned.

I pointed at her, mock stern. "Revenge is coming."

She packed up her laptop. "Relax, it was an experiment—and it answered your question."

She zipped her bag, tossed her hair, and winked.

"What question?"

I tried to sound annoyed, but curiosity got the better of me.

"Didn’t you ask why people sometimes feel freaked out by humanoids? My experiment just proved it."

She stretched, arms overhead. "See? Fear for no reason. The uncanny in action."

Remembering her blank stare, I shivered. "So when someone you know suddenly acts creepy, that’s a kind of uncanny valley, right?"

She snapped her fingers. "Exactly! Say I’m a humanoid, and you don’t know my flaw, but you still got scared. My weird behavior created the unknown, so you felt fear."

She grinned, like she’d solved fear itself.

I couldn’t argue. She was right.

I let out a long breath. Sometimes it’s not what you see—it’s what you can’t explain.

"So, have you figured out the hunter and the humanoid’s story yet?"

I nudged her, hoping for a hint.

Rachel slung her bag over her shoulder and sighed.

She glanced out the window, watching a cloud drift by, like she was waiting for an answer from the sky.

"Not yet. I still need to figure out the humanoid’s flaw."

She shook her head, lips pursed in thought.

"Alright, I hope you come up with something genius. Let me know when you do."

I flashed a thumbs-up, grinning.

"We’ll see." She waved and headed for the hallway.

She shot me a wink and disappeared, footsteps light on the floor.

The door clicked open. She stepped outside, then paused in the doorway, half in shadow.

"What if you’re the one who’s not real?"

The words hung in the air, sending a shiver through me.

Bang. The door slammed shut.

The echo made me jump. I sat in the empty room, heart thumping.

Even in broad daylight, I felt a chill. Rachel’s last words echoed in my mind…

I glanced out at the sunny street, but the light didn’t warm me at all.