Laughter.
Dark, sinister laughter came from all around Bon Bon. In front, the shadowy figure she thought she’d shot had disappeared, and in its place was a dark, shadowy mass of… something. Something with flailing hooves and gnashing teeth and contemptuous, glaring, hateful eyes—
Bon Bon blinked, and there it was again. Lyra — no, the shadowy not-Lyra — stood over the corpse of the real one, still laughing with a terrible sound. The light of the setting sun cast strange shadows on its face, making its all-too-familiar visage look even more unnatural. Bon Bon’s heart thumped wildly in her chest as she backed away slowly, her weapon still trained square on the figure.
“Oh? Running away, are we?” The not-Lyra’s voice was a lilting taunt, its face twisted into a mocking smile as it stepped towards her. “Ever one to act on instinct, I see.”
Bon Bon gritted her teeth, her muscles tensing on her weapon as she squared her stance. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh? Don’t play dumb with me, Bon Bon. What would you call this?” It gestured to the corpse on the ground and Bon Bon physically flinched, a stab of grief and guilt piercing her heart. The not-Lyra grinned maliciously. “I’m not the one who shot her.”
Bon Bon forced herself to tear her gaze away from the still form of what had once been her best friend. Her hooves trembled as she stared down at the creature, and her vision was beginning to blur with renewed tears. “Why are you doing this? What do you want?”
The not-Lyra gestured innocently at itself. “Who, little old me?” It turned away from her, its tail flicking playfully at the real Lyra’s snout. “What does anyone want, really? Fame? Fortune? Happiness—”
“Don’t play games with me!” Bon Bon roared in white-hot rage, her shaking hooves threatening to pull the trigger on her weapon again even though it had proven useless before.
“Well, since you asked so nicely…” Her target turned back to her. Its face was an image of malicious joy, the twisted, evil smile it wore seeming out of place on the face of her friend. It stepped toward her with a haughty gait, and its figure… changed as it walked. Bon Bon looked in horror as skin and sinew shifted, splitting and crumbling away in places until the creature looked like a corpse — the decaying, shambling corpse of her best friend. She stepped back instinctively.
“I want to see you SUFFER!” The mangled not-Lyra was suddenly right in front of her, its chipped, eroded teeth bared in a terrifying snarl.
Bon Bon shrieked as she scrambled away from the rotting face, her hooves fumbling to raise her weapon. “Stay away!” she cried out in fear and desperation, her mind racing to make sense of it all. Her trembling hooves half-pressed on the trigger of her weapon, causing the crystals embedded inside to hum softly with magical energy.
“Oh Bon Bon, you already know that won’t work on me,” the figure gloated, its horn glowing as it advanced on her. She shivered as she felt the air turning chill, and the reddish-tinged light of the sun slowly dimming as the shadows grew all around her. She tensed, her heart pumping as she held down the gun’s trigger, ready to fire at any moment—
She felt a presence behind her. Without thinking, she turned and pressed down on the trigger, just as the figure behind her lashed out with a shadowy tendril, sending a jolt of pain down her left side. In that instant, the crystals inside activated fully, sending a bright blast of light into the not-Lyra.
Darkness. Slashing claws. Ripping talons. An overwhelming sense of hate—
Reality reasserted itself as Bon Bon blinked, staggering as her left side lit up in pain. She steadied herself, favouring her injured side as she quickly glanced at it, bracing herself to see what would almost definitely be a grievous, bleeding…
...nothing?
She blinked. Her coat was unmarred by any injury, and the flash of pain she’d momentarily felt was fading away quickly. What was going on?
“Nice shot, I’ll give you that.”
Bon Bon’s head darted up.
In front of her was the figure, but it was no longer wearing Lyra’s face. Instead, it had transfigured itself to look exactly like Bon Bon — the effect was uncanny, like staring into a dark mirror. It seemed to have been unaffected by the shot, again, and its face was wearing the same arrogant grin that had been on the not-Lyra’s face.
It sat on the dirt, dusting off its hooves as it examined her with a bored expression. “Still, I’m not sure what you’re trying to accomplish with that weapon. Like I said, it’s not going to do anything.”
Bon Bon stared at the figure intently as it sat on the ground nonchalantly. There was something odd about this situation — she felt her mind racing as she thought back, recalling old memories…
“...I know you,” she said simply, her eyes distant.
The figure stood up, its expression replaced with a sort of dark curiosity. It sneered. “Oh? Do you, Sweetie Drops? Then by all means, tell me your grand theory, won’t you?”
Bon Bon stared down her double. “You’re my shadow. My Nightmare.”
The dark figure smiled, a terrible grin with too many teeth.
“And now that I know,” Bon Bon said, feeling an odd determination well up inside her, “I’m going to end you.”
Dark, maniacal laughter rang out into the night.