//------------------------------// // 22-This Giant Mirror Below me... // Story: This Beautiful Darkness Shall Protect Me... // by Timemaster //------------------------------// I wake up, a pure white table below me and a blinding light above me. I am wearing a purple gown, and one of those floofy hats. I try to pick myself up with my legs, but they won't move. I look towards where my feet are... were.My body is missing its legs, but another pair is hanging beside me to my left. They look different than my own, but so do my hands. My hands are huge compared to my wrists, and they are of different shades. I lean up, seeing that the walls were red. I breath through my nose, but smell nothing. My nose itches, so I scratch it, but something is plastered over it. I try to see it, but my eyes feel tired and everything becomes more and more blurry. I attempt to yell bloody murder, but my mouth is stapled together. I pull at the staples, but it only pains my lips. I taste the staples, feeling an iron taste on my tounge. I feel around for my teeth, but a few gaps are found where my front ones should be. I look to my left, downwards, and find a wheelchair. I slowly slide into the wheelchair, feeling my butt colide with something hard on it. I pull it out of my butt-area. It is three name-tags. 'Patient 5—Christopher Mann—Main', said the first one. The picture looked very familiar... was it me? I turn to the next one. 'Patient 6—Allen Travis—'Blue' Matter', said the second one, the picture frightening me. My heart felt like a stone, sinking into the blackest depths of the unending ocean of pain. I throw the card, looking at the next one. 'Patient 1—John Right—Mem.' said the last. The picture was horrifying, but not like the last one. This one was a child. His picture was the one that hit me hard, but I have no clue why. I put the Christopher one on, feeling that it matched me, and slipped the child's one into a small pocket on the side of the gown. I look at my fingernails, and see a slight tint of red in them, the same color as the wall. I look across the bed, and see somebody (or, actually, their head, but they must be laying down.) I roll across the room, towards the bed, and try to shriek in terror, only hurting my mouth. The body next to me was a pile of nothing, which a head rested upon. I feel like barfing, but feel nothing come out. I look back to the red wall, blatantly stunned on how much blood was on it. I shake off the fear and roll out the room and into a smaller, darker one. "Please..." I heard to my right as I entered the room, "No more..." I reach for a light, but feel a slight heat from behind me. "No more!" He said, a bright light hitting me, sending me flying into a pitch black hole. The fall lasted hours, but suddenly trace amounts of light erupt before me. I see pieces of glass as it showered above me, falling under me. It formed a platform, which reflected my body to me. Which reflected the face of Allen at me... I stare into my mirror, Trixie laying in my bed. I concentrate hard, trying to remember my dream as much as possible. trying to remember who I am; but the longer I stare, the more I realize that I shouldn't be asking who I am. I should be asking what I am. I slowly brush the teeth of someone else, and put on my clothes that Trixie politely laid out for me on the hanging rack. I leave the bathroom, kissing Trixie on the head before leaving the room. Elda is cleaning very early in the morning and waves at me as I leave the house. It is barely even 5:00 am, but I know that Princess Celestia is awake. I trot over to the council room, seeing Luna asleep on the top of a large, golden, throne. I breath in, walking to a wall behind Luna, it having a small decoration on it. I press the decoration, opening the door. Behind the door was Princess Celestia and Princess Twilight, each rummaging through old documents. Princess Twilight looks at me first. "Well, look who has come." She said, slightly angry. "What?" I ask. "What do you mean what? You nearly offed my teacher!" She said silently, noticing Luna asleep behind me. "Ex-teacher," Celestia laughs lightly, "and you already know such a weak bomb could not harm me in a lifetime." "But..." "No but, Miss Sparkle." Princess Celestia pulls out a slim paper, "Finally!" Princess Twilight picks it up with her magic, which is magenta, and nods. "I see, so that is why your not like that universe." "Which one?" I say to Princess Sparkle. "Well, you see, Miss Sparkles old flame lives in a world where people are more 'colorful', unlike your own." Princess Celestia said, smirking at Twilight. "I trusted you with that!," She sighs, "It may sound odd to you, but your universe of humanity is an odd one." "How?" "Well, you see," She puts the paper in front of me, "Your universe is one where magic exists like ours, but has a different usage." "Different?" "Your universe, mapped out by Starswirled the Bearded and his alternate counterpart, has a few sentient beings capable of magic, but since they are sentient, they adapt quite quickly." She sighs, "So, magic in your world became obsolete to technology which could give anyone the power to change the world." "And the mirror?" Princess Celestia looks at Twilight with a disapproving look. "You... don't need to know about that." I feel anger, but then I remembered. I remembered that they owned me. If I fought, they would reveal me to Trixie before she was ready. I already showed her some memories (in a ponified form), but she is still not ready. I look to Celestia, "What did I look like?" "What do you mean?" "What did my human self look like?" "Shouldn't you already know that?" "I do, but I do not." She looks at me with a confused glance. "I want to know if I look the way I think I look." "Why would that matter?" Celestia says, looking down at more papers, "You're never going to be in human shape again in this world, are you?" I look at the ground, "I guess not..." I look to Twilight, "I guess I will meet you all in the next meeting, I am going to the cafe." "Alone?" "No." I say, waving goodbye from my masters. I walk out the room, quickly, feeling down. I see Trixie out of the house, cleaning up some papers she dropped. They all had money signs on them. "What's happening, Trix?" I say, faking feeling happy. "Not much, really," [huff],"just that my taxes came in." "Taxes?" I start to pick up some of her papers. "Yeah, "She picks up the last one, " but even with all of this, I still made a profit." "Well," I say, with a smirk,"with that profit, do you want to go on a date, bread winner?" I say, feeling a bit better around her. She smiles, but tries to hide it. "Sure... just wait a few minutes." She says, running to her house with about fifty papers. I kinda wish we never played with her horn, though it felt nice. I wait in silence, seeing lights of neighbors going on and off, and see Trixie in the distance. We go to the Cafe, and enjoy hours of stories, tales, and riddles. It helped me somewhat. Somewhat. It seems like years ago, but it also felt like tomorrow. My 11th birthday was when my father had bought me a magic knife. The knife channeled my magic, allowing me to create my crafts. My favorite was of a young boy, a mage like me, but something always felt off about it. Unlike my other sculptured, this one was always scaring me. It felt like it would reach to me and tear out my eyes. I kept watch on it, even on my sick days. When I was my sickest, with a flu, my dad brought it down into the bed with me and my duller knife. He knew my magic would heal my wounds, so he trusted me with it at all times. I named it, the figure, but I have no remembrance of why I did so. All I know is that the figure, in all its glory, had only a four letter name. Its name, like many of my father's colleagues, was John...