Chapter Text
"Okay," I nod and look to Damien, "I trust you"
“Just relax,” Celine states as she closes her eyes and begins the process.
“This’ll work. I promise,” Damien reaches towards me comfortingly.
Thunder rumbles as the ceiling and chandelier of the manor's foyer comes into focus. Ringing is all that is heard for a moment, before its volume lowers to a barely audible hum. Gasping, wheezing, sputtering as I, no , as we get to our feet. We turn to take in our surroundings, startled to find the Colonel sitting near by cradling Damien's cane.
"Oh, no! No! It’s okay," he reaches out to us in an attempt to comfort, “I-I thought you were dead”
He’s trying to make sense of it all.
“I-I-I mean, of course you’re not dead! You’re not-how could you be dead?”
He’s speaking to me.
Reaching out to me.
He doesn’t know.
“I mean, I-I wouldn’t have killed you. I-I didn’t kill you?”
“I mean, of cour-I-I,” he places the cane on the console table below the foyer's mirror, relief entering his voice.
"Of course! I didn’t kill anybody!"
He starts laughing.
“I didn’t-it was all a joke ! Of course, it was all a joke!”
He comes in close pointing at us, a smile on his lips.
“Were you in on this? Did Damien put you up to this? Of course he did!”
He backs away before I can make us reach out to him.
“Damien, where are you, you rapscallion?”
He stumbles off calling out for Celine and Damien before we can say anything. Damien and I are filled with concern and want to follow after him, but Celine has other plans.
" We are broken ," she whispers within our mind, her voice not quite her own, " There are things to do "
She takes us to the mirror, having us reach for Damien's cane. My senses disappear and I feel the others struggle.
"What is happening?" I call out to them, "Where are you?"
No response
I am alone .
After an eternity of darkness, of nothingness, my senses come back, it seems as though no time at all has passed. The Colonel is still calling out for the recently deceased from the depths of the manor.
Something feels different.
Damien has us take the cane and look into the mirror. The body no longer looks the same.
Something is wrong.
Something is very wrong.
I can't feel Celine, all I can feel is Damien's rage.
He focuses on me.
My vision doubles, triples, then refocuses.
I am alone.
They stare at me. Eyes full of contempt and rage. They look at the cane in their hand, and crack their neck, trying to get comfortable. The mirror cracks with it, fragmenting my view of them. I place my hands on the cool glass of the mirror. They storm off, a determined look in their eyes.
"No."
My chest tightens.
"No. No! "
I curl my hands into fists.
"Damien! Please!"
I start pounding my fists against the broken glass, not caring if the shards cut me.
I desperately call out to him.
"Come back! Don't leave me here!"
Tears are heavy on my eyelashes and cascade down my cheeks. My breath hitches.
He wouldn't leave me.
"Damien, please don't leave me! You promised we'd do this together! We'd fix it together! You promised! "
Shards of glass have started to embed themselves into my skin. Blood flows freely down my arms and splatters each time my fist makes contact with the glass.
" Damien! Come back! Please come back!"
He wouldn't lie to me.
My screams of sorrow don't reach him. He can't hear me. They've left me here to pursue something else. I felt it before I was cast aside; the rage, the determination.
There are things to do , she said.
My onslaught against the mirror slows to a stop. I rest my forehead against the slick glass placing my palms flat against it. My sobs have taken over my voice, leaving me no strength to continue my hopeless pleading. I stand there for a moment before turning around to lean my back against the wall and slowly slide to the ground. This reflection of the manor was incomplete, only having what could be seen from the other side-the real world. Things were darker here, the space between the void of death and the world of the 'living'. Familiar, still, having briefly passed through before everything went south. Sitting on the floor, I lean my head back against the wall as I try to steady my breathing and slow my tears. Blood drips, and splatters against the tile, from where my arms rest on my knees.
With a shuddering breath, I close my eyes.
He'll be back, right?