SERIES WARNING:
* Mature language
* Scenes alluding to/containing violence
* Angst
Darkness enveloped me, shifting in a slow, circular motion. Oddly enough, it felt serene—as though I were drifting in a dream. For a while, there was nothing but the quiet rhythm of my thoughts dissolving into the void.
Then, a low hum pierced the stillness, subtle at first but growing louder. The sound disrupted the peaceful nothingness around me, thinning the darkness until it seemed almost translucent. Gradually, the hum transformed into voices—urgent, fractured voices.
“How could you do this, James? What... What--?”
“What do you mean by that?” a man snapped. “I’m not the only one at fault. If you hadn’t interfered, none of this would have happened!”
At first, their words sounded disjointed, like fragments of a fading dream.
“If I hadn’t stopped you, you could have…”
The argument grew clearer, the tension between them almost tangible. My thoughts coalesced, and I realized the voices belonged to a man and a woman.
They were standing nearby.
“Oh my God,” the woman’s voice cracked, her breathing shallow and rapid. “What if she’s dead, James? What if she’s dead? What are we going to do? What will we tell everyone?”
The humming in my ears receded, replaced by the sound of frantic footsteps. Light began to seep into my vision, replacing the darkness with a white blur.
“Let’s not– Look, Alice!” the man said sharply.
The shuffling of movement grew closer.
“Emma? Emma, darling, can you hear me? Are you alright?” A woman’s voice called to me, her tone thick with worry. Gentle hands pressed against my shoulders as my vision slowly cleared.
I blinked, my focus sharpening on the ceiling above me. Someone was helping me sit upright. Turning my head, I met the gaze of a woman I didn’t recognize.
“Emma, can you see Mommy clearly?” she asked softly. Her hands cupped my face, her blue eyes searching mine with palpable concern. She had short, blonde hair and faint wrinkles etched across her face, suggesting she was older, perhaps in her forties.
“Who...” I tried to speak, but the words stuck in my throat. A sharp, excruciating pain suddenly surged through me, making me gasp.
“You’re alright, darling. You’re alright,” the woman said, her voice soothing as she supported my back. She patted my head gently, offering a faint smile. Yet, something about her felt… wrong.
‘Who the hell is this woman?’
I turned my head, my eyes darting around the room, searching for answers. That’s when I noticed the man standing nearby. He looked about the same age as the woman, with dark hair and a tense expression. They didn’t resemble each other, at least not enough to suggest they were related.
My thoughts were interrupted by another wave of pain, sharp enough to draw a low groan from my lips.
“Let me help you up, baby,” the woman said, her voice gentle but insistent. She pulled me to my feet, her arms steadying me as I struggled to stand.
The moment my bare feet touched the floor, I recoiled. Something sharp grazed my skin.
Looking down, I saw shards of glass scattered around me, glinting in the dim light. Some pieces were streaked with a dark red substance.
Blood.
The realization hit me like a blow, but before I could dwell on it, the woman guided me toward the door.
“Come, Emma. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
‘Where am I?’ The question burned in my mind as we stepped into an unfamiliar corridor.
The woman led me into a bathroom and directed me to the tub. She turned on the faucet, the sound of rushing water filling the small space.
“Ah!” I cried out as the warm water hit my skin, amplifying the pain radiating through my body.
“We’ve been through this before, Emma. I need you to be strong for Mommy,” she said, her grip tightening on my arm.
I bit my lip to stifle another groan, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. Minutes passed, or maybe it was seconds; time felt distorted. As the pain began to subside, I opened my eyes and looked down.
I noticed then that the water pooling at the base of the tub was red.
“Oh, I’m sorry, darling. I’ll help you change once we’re done here,” the woman said absently, her voice seeming distant, as though muffled by cotton.
But the water wasn’t clearing. The red—blood—clung to me, swirling in the tub. Panic clawed at my chest.
“Emma?” The woman’s voice called to me, but I didn’t respond. I stepped out of the tub, ignoring the cold tiles beneath my feet, and turned toward the mirror.
The reflection staring back at me wasn’t mine.
A pale girl with short, black hair and a swollen bruise on her cheek gazed at me, her wide eyes mirroring my own shock. Bruises and bluish-gray marks mottled her arms and legs.
She looked battered, broken. Most important:
‘That’s not me.’
“Who is that?” I whispered, my voice trembling. The girl in the mirror mimicked my movements, her lips forming the same words.
“Stop it,” I said, louder this time. “Stop copying me!” My hands flew to my face, the touch of my skin only deepening my horror.
“Emma?” The woman stepped closer, her voice laced with worry. Her presence only heightened my panic.
I screamed.
“Emma!” she cried, recoiling slightly.
‘Where am I? What is this place? Whose… Whose body—?’
Overwhelmed, my vision blurred, and the world around me spun. Darkness claimed me once again as I collapsed to the floor.
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