//------------------------------// // Broken // Story: Trapped in the Mirror // by Xuncu //------------------------------// ....... *sniffle* *sniffle* It's so cold here. And wet. And dark. It.... I don't think it's been very long, but it feels like such a long time, especially since I can't be with my friends.... and it hurts to think that, in a way, my friends put me here. Because of me. I can see out of the pond. But, since it's in a cave, and Tom's nearly blocking out all the light, there's very little to see. Like a ghost, I can see my own reflection in the water's surface. A few times, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw other ponies. They looked so sad. Like how I feel right now. Some of them looked really old, and distorted, like if I was looking through really old, misshapen glass. Others looked cracked and fractured, broken with shards falling off. All of them seem to have little glimmers of light surrounding them. I try to keep up, and get closer to them, but it's like looking at a illusion: stand in the wrong spot, look at them in the wrong way, and the image dissapears. If I could use my special 'movement', I could catch anypony, but there's nothing for me to hide behind, and it feels like there's eyes on me, even if I tried to go into that space 'in between'-- it won't work if somepony is watching 'properly' that way. They seemed to have mostly faded away right now... wait! There's one! Wait up! Waitwaitwaitwait don't go! Somehow, I manage to catch up, finally, and get a solid look. It's a pony... or at least I think it was, once. I see her, and it feels like I've seen her before, but have half-forgotten, like if I look away from her coat, I would instantly forget what color she is, let alone anything else about her. Those cracks. It looks like I'm looking at a cut-up painting: flat, but with clean cuts. Wait, not quite flat, there's... depth to the image. It's thin, but there, like a coat of warm icing or... ... glass. Like a mirror. I look at the sparkles around them, and I see they also seem to be broken peices of glass. I raise a hoof, and press gently on her body, and she feels wierd; a bit of give, but a bit like Spike's scales; tough and flat. Her eyes seem to flutter just the smallest bit, so I give her a harder shove, but when I do, I hear a bit of a slicing sound, and a small snap. Pulling back my hoof, I see my hoof has a small nick, but also the edges of the cracks in the mare are turning red... and... drippingohnonononoI'msorry, I'm sorry! I stare in shock as a peice where I pressed down drifts in the oozing blood, apparently the peice I just broke off. The peice then seems to float out of her entirely, and drift through the air... is that a ... guhh, meat attached to the bottom?!? Her eyes are still closed as her mouth finally opens into an exhausted, suffering low moan. Oh my goodness... how long have she been here like this to make that sound?! And... I thought I saw a lot of others here with those cracks... oh goodness oh goodnessohgoodnessoh! I can hear whispering... closer... Not knowing what else to do, I dart away, trying to put some distance between, when I see the floating shards stir. I look as I see energy going through them, and watch the shards go after the freed bloody shard, pecking at the meat like pirahnas, while making a repetitive sound I can't quite make out, glowing brighter as they seem to eat the fresh blood and meat, untill the shard is picked clean, and glowing like all the other shards. Again in a bit of that strange half-memory, as they make that sound again, I can't help but think that's what she would sound like. What is that the shards are saying...? Sounds like they're chanting one word over and over... sounds like "Play!" Oh no.... It sounds ... it sounds like how all those Pinkie-Clones chanting "Fun!' when they started getting out of hand. Just then, I hear a crack coming from my damaged hoof, and see a chunk of pink-tinted glass rise up from it... and I look into the bit of mirror from my own body and see.. No no, not her.... not al of her... I-I don't like it. Not her... ... ...It's them... all of them, hiding in the shard... That is to say, it's me. The other me's, but also the other me... The one that, when I looked too closely, glared at me when I looked in any other mirror before. ...Pinkamena. ... why is she just staring? Why do they all stare? I don't like it. They look... hungry. And desparate. Not like a customer coming in for the morning rush to get coffee and a donut, but... angry. Like they haven't had enough... I get it. It's how it works. I'm food to make reflections... but.... what about all those other ponies I saw??