The squealing of sneakers on polished floors echoed through Moon High's hallway as Jessica rounded the corner, the sound ricocheting off the walls like trapped birds. She instinctively slowed her pace, shoulders hunching slightly as she tried to make herself smaller, less noticeable. No point in seeming too eager to get to cheer practice anymore—she'd lost whatever tenuous social capital she'd managed to accumulate over the past few weeks. The thought sat heavy in her stomach, a cold weight of certainty.

  A cluster of freshmen huddled by their lockers, their whispers and giggles carrying in the emptying hallway like wind through dead leaves. Jessica recognized them as junior varsity hopefuls—girls who, just last week, would have been falling over themselves to catch her attention. Now, as she passed, their laughter cut off with the abruptness of a snapped neck. One girl—Sarah Something-or-other, with her perfectly pressed dress and eagerly hopeful eyes—actually took a step back, pressing herself against the metal lockers as if trying to phase through them.

  Jessica's stomach twisted into an even tighter knot. She'd seen that look before, countless times, but usually directed at other people. The losers. The freaks. The invisible ones who haunted the margins of high school existence. Never at her. Until now.

  Back in the old days she became a popular cheerleader.

  The clicking of heels on linoleum cut through the silence like a knife, making her spine stiffen involuntarily. Jessica didn't need to turn around to know who it was—the sound alone carried an aura of newfound authority that seemed to part the crowd of lingering students like the Red Sea. The clicks were measured, deliberate, each one a countdown to something inevitable.

  "Ladies," Salina's voice purred from behind her, dripping with a sweetness that made Jessica's teeth ache. The word hung in the air like poisoned honey. "Getting ready for practice?"

  The freshmen practically tripped over themselves responding, their voices blending into an eager chorus of submission. "Yes, Salina!" "Can't wait!" "Your new routine is amazing!" Each exclamation felt less natural than the last as if they were reading from an invisible script.

  Jessica kept walking, her shoulders so tight they burned. She could feel Salina's presence behind her, moving with a predatory grace that seemed impossible for someone who, just weeks ago, had trouble walking in heels during their homecoming practice. The change was just one more impossibility in a growing list of things that didn't make sense anymore.

  "Oh, Jessica," Salina called out, her voice carrying that same sickly-sweet tone that had become her trademark. "Don't forget—you're in the back row today. We wouldn't want another... incident."

  The word "incident" dripped with mock concern, referring to yesterday's disaster when Jessica had stumbled during their new routine. She still didn't understand how it had happened. One moment she'd been perfect, her body moving through the familiar motions with practiced ease, the next her feet had tangled like they belonged to someone else entirely. The whole squad had seen her fall, their synchronized gasps followed by a silence that felt more choreographed than any routine.

  "Whatever you say, Salina," Jessica muttered, pushing through the heavy gym doors with more force than necessary. The sound of Salina's laughter followed her inside, carrying on a cold draft that shouldn't have been possible in the heated building. The chill raised goosebumps along her arms despite the warmth of her uniform.

  The gym was already half-full of cheerleaders stretching and chatting, their voices echoing off the high ceiling. The conversation died as Jessica entered, replaced by meaningful glances and poorly concealed whispers that seemed to follow her like shadows. She headed for her usual spot near the front, only to find Amber Hearts had already claimed it, her long legs stretched out in an exaggerated split.

  "Sorry," Amber said, not sounding sorry at all, her smile as plastic as the buttons on her uniform. "Salina thought it would be better if I took point on this one." The words were casual, but they carried the weight of an execution order.

  Jessica swallowed hard, tasting bile, and moved to the back corner. As she dropped her bag, she caught sight of her reflection in the gym's wall of mirrors. She looked normal enough—blonde hair hanging down just the way she liked it, uniform crisp and clean, every inch the perfect cheerleader she'd always been. But something about her reflection seemed dim, almost transparent like she was fading into the background while everyone else shone bright and vibrant. She blinked hard, but the effect remained.

  "Alright, ladies!" Salina's voice cut through the chatter as she swept into the gym, commanding attention with an ease that felt supernatural. "Let's warm up!"

  The music started, some generic pop song that had been remixed for cheerleading, and Jessica forced herself through the routine. Everything felt wrong—her timing was off by milliseconds that felt like years, her jumps were weak as if gravity had suddenly doubled its hold on her alone, and her landings were shaky like a newborn colt's first steps. Meanwhile, Salina moved with impossible grace, each motion precise and powerful, defying physics in ways that made Jessica's head hurt to watch. The rest of the squad followed her lead, moving in perfect synchronization like puppets on invisible strings, their eyes glazed with an adoration that looked more like possession.

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  "Jessica!" Salina's voice cracked like a whip across the gym. "You're behind the beat. Again." Each word fell like a hammer blow.

  Heat crept up Jessica's neck as all eyes turned to her, some sympathetic, others gleaming with barely concealed satisfaction at her failure. "Sorry, I—"

  "Just try to keep up," Salina cut her off with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Was it Jessica's imagination, or did those eyes seem darker than usual? Almost black in the fluorescent gym lighting, like wells of infinite depth?

  The rest of the practice passed in a blur of humiliation and growing dread. By the time Salina called for a break, Jessica was drenched in sweat and trembling with exhaustion that felt bone-deep. She stumbled toward her water bottle, only to freeze at the sight before her, ice flooding her veins.

  Mrs. Carpenter—Salina's grandmother—sat in the bleachers, watching practice with an unnaturally still expression. The old woman had always been busy at her jewelry shop, but now there was something deeply wrong about her vacant stare and rigid posture. She sat like a discarded doll, hands folded precisely in her lap, not even blinking.

  "Grandma's been so supportive lately," Salina said, appearing beside Jessica with that same predatory grace that made no sound despite her heels. "She finally understands the importance of my... social activities." The pause before the last two words stretched like taffy, filled with unspoken implications.

  Mrs. Carpenter smiled mechanically at the sound of her granddaughter's voice, her eyes never focusing on anything in particular. A chill ran down Jessica's spine as she remembered the fierce, independent woman who used to chase them out of her garden with a broom when they got too close to her precious herbs, ranting about protection spells and ancient wards.

  "What did you do to her?" Jessica whispered, the words escaping before she could stop them.

  Salina's laugh was like breaking glass, sharp and dangerous. "I simply helped her see things my way. The same way I helped Tiffany see things my way yesterday." Her smile widened fraction by fraction, like a wound opening.

  Jessica's blood ran cold as the implications sank in. Tiffany kept letting Salina lead the squad as she watched in the back as if she was no longer part of the group. It made sense now.

  "That was you?"

  "Tiffany was easy to convince, but not Tracy." Salina examined her nails, which seemed longer and sharper than they should have been, catching the light like talons. "Poor new girl broke her tiny little ankle in gym class last week. It's amazing how... fragile people can be. If only she didn't try to push my luck." The threat in her voice was as clear as crystal and twice as sharp.

  Before Jessica could respond, Salina was already walking away, calling the squad back to practice with a voice that brooked no argument. As they took their positions, Jessica glimpsed something in the mirror that made her heart stop mid-beat.

  For just a moment, Salina's reflection showed something else—a twisted, shadowy figure with hollow eyes and reaching claws, its form suggesting angles that shouldn't exist in three-dimensional space. Then she blinked, and it was gone, replaced by Salina's perfect smile and flawless form, leaving Jessica to wonder if she'd imagined it.

  "From the top, ladies!" Salina commanded, and the squad snapped to attention like soldiers under a spell. "And Jessica? Do try to keep up this time. We wouldn't want any... accidents." The last word dripped with malevolent promise.

  The threat hung in the air like poison as the music started again. Jessica forced herself through the motions, all too aware of Salina's dark eyes watching her every move. In the bleachers, Mrs. Carpenter sat frozen, a living reminder of what happened to those who opposed Salina's will, her vacant eyes reflecting the fluorescent lights like dead stars.

  As Jessica executed another wobbly turn, she caught sight of Kevin passing by the gym doors. Their eyes met for a brief moment—his eyes were wide with something like fear, hers pleading for help—then he looked away, hurrying past without acknowledging her.

  Something was wrong with him too. Ever since she tried to warn him about Salina, he avoided her like she smelled bad. He never answered her texts or helped her in their classes. Maybe she finally realized the truth.

  She was alone now. Truly alone. The realization settled over her like a burial shroud.

  The music swelled to a crescendo, and Jessica watched helplessly as Salina commanded the attention of everyone in the room, her movements hypnotic and wrong in ways that defied description. Whatever dark power had taken hold of her former friend was growing stronger by the day, feeding on their fear and devotion like a parasite. And Jessica had no idea how to stop it, or even if it could be stopped.

  A sharp pain shot through her ankle as she landed wrong from a jump, the joint twisting in a way that sent warning signals shooting up her leg. She stumbled but caught herself before falling, though the near-miss made her heart race. When she looked up, Salina was watching her with that not-quite-right smile that seemed to stretch slightly too wide for her face.

  "I told you to be careful, Jessica," she said sweetly, each syllable dripping with false concern. "Did you forget…?" Her eyes flickered to solid black for just a moment, like windows opening onto an abyss. "Accidents happen."

  The rest of the squad laughed, the sound echoing unnaturally in the gym, bouncing off the walls until it seemed to come from everywhere at once. Jessica straightened her spine and forced herself to keep going, even as dark spots danced at the edges of her vision. In the mirror, shadows seemed to writhe around Salina's reflection, reaching out with grasping tendrils toward the other girls like smoke given a malevolent purpose.

  One by one, they were falling under her spell, their movements becoming more synchronized, their eyes growing more vacant with each practice. Jessica was powerless to stop it, forced to watch as her teammates transformed into perfect, empty vessels for whatever force Salina had brought back from that house.

  As practice finally ended, Jessica lingered in the locker room, waiting until everyone else had left. She couldn't bear to watch them cluster around Salina, hanging on her every word like devoted disciples. Couldn't stand to see the vacant look in their eyes, so similar to Mrs. Carpenter's empty stare, as if their very souls were being slowly drained away.

  The sound of running water made her jump, the sudden noise shattering the silence like a gunshot. She peered around the corner to find Salina alone at the sinks, washing her hands with methodical precision, each movement the same as the last. In the mirror above the sink, her reflection wavered like heat waves off the hot pavement, sometimes showing a girl, sometimes showing something else entirely.

  "I know you're there, Jessica," Salina said without looking up, her voice carrying that same layered quality it had developed recently as if multiple people were speaking at once. "Did you enjoy practice today?"

  Jessica stepped into view, fists clenched at her sides, nails digging crescents into her palms. "What happened to you, Salina? What happened in that house?" The questions that had been burning inside her for weeks finally escaped.

  Salina's hands stilled under the running water, perfectly motionless in a way that human muscles couldn't maintain. When she looked up, her eyes were completely black, like endless pits in her face, reflecting nothing. A smile spread across her lips, too wide and full of too many teeth, each one gleaming like polished bone.

  "I woke up," she said, her voice layered with something ancient and cruel, something that had never known human warmth or mercy. "And soon, everyone else will wake up and see me as their queen. Even you, Jessica. Even you."

  The lights flickered, darkness pulsing through the room like a heartbeat, and when they steadied, Salina was gone. Only the running tap remained, water circling the drain like a miniature whirlpool, hypnotic in its endless motion. As Jessica watched, frozen in place by terror, the clear liquid turned black as ink for just a moment before returning to normal, as if nothing had happened at all.

  She backed away from the sink, her heart hammering against her ribs like it was trying to escape. This wasn't just about cheerleading anymore. This wasn't just about popularity or social status or any of the petty hierarchies that had seemed so important just weeks ago.

  This was something much, much worse.

  And she had no idea how to stop it.