Dream § 006 § "The Undiscovered Country"
The first thing he sees when he wakes up is black. Black walls, black tables, a black chandelier hanging from the ceiling- it's drab and repetitive, and above all, strange. Because it's not just the normal things that are black, no. There's a window with ink-tinted panes, and when he lightly pushes on it, forcing it to swing outward, it reveals a lovely bit of beachfront property outside where the sand is black and even the moon is black, somehow still managing to stand out in a crescent shape against a pall of darkness. There are no stars.
Here is a place where shadows fear to tread. They'd be redundant.
He surveys the room, turning from the window, and smiles a bit- it may be monotonous, but it's perfectly symmetrical from this angle, even down to the mirrors on either side of the room. They resemble the one in the Death Room quite a lot, actually, except the flame in the candles burns curiously black, and even the tallow is shaded to gray. Both are flanked by a pair of curtains, so deep red that you could mistake them, yes, for black, if you weren't really looking. but the mirrors themselves are slightly, slightly different, and it gives him pause. One looks normal- normal for here, at least, and bares a dark pane.
The other shines like someone had pointed a flashlight towards it.
He moves to stand in front of the out-of-place mirror, noting how his breath fogs up the glass- and then how the numbers for the Death Room begin writing themselves. He's heard of this, though he's never done it himself; as the son of the Shinigami, he doesn't have to. He has a more direct link to his father. But still...
When the image comes up, it's unexpected, and he blinks in surprise- it's a normal reflection, almost, in that that's definitely him in the glass, but he's taller, and slightly thinner, and he's wearing his Shinigami cloak, with the mask tipped upwards so that his face is visible. There are a few lines on that face, and slight bags under his eyes, but what shocks Kid is that he looks so happy. There's Maka, standing beside him, he notices, and behind her are Soul and Liz and Patti, Black*Star and Tsubaki, even Blair in cat form. It's heartwarming, for a moment, and then his reflection bends over towards Maka and it all goes wrong. There's a horrible splintering sound, and a crack runs through the pane suddenly, like solid lightning; an avalanche of shards fall down, away from the mirror's frame, and pool at his feet sadly, still glittering like stardust.
Slowly, instinctively, he turns around. A reflection has manifested itself in the other mirror, without his help, and the vision is steadily getting clearer, the darkness of the glass fading away. He understands now that it was always there, he just couldn't see it, obscured at it was by the original black shading. Pulled by a force he can't resist, he moves closer, one foot after the other until he's standing only inches away from it. This time, the mask has stayed on, but it's not the mask he's used to- this is Father's mask from before Shibusen, and possibly a more ghastly version than even that. With a deadly, exaggerated lack of speed, his other self reaches up and tips the mask back, just enough to show his eyes; they glow in the near-dark, burning golden bright, but one look into them sends shivers down his spine. He sees nothing there, no spark of life, just death. Always death.
Something crimson red drips down from his shadow's hand, down his arm, falls to the floor with a subtle 'plink' of something warm and wet hitting cold stone. Kid realizes that those hands- his hands -are covered in blood. As he stares, the image fades, but this time the glass disappears with less fanfare- it simply seems to melt back, and what it leaves is empty black space. Not the back of the mirror, but a hole into nothing. He reaches out to touch it, mesmerized-
And snaps his hand back immediately, feeling the strange, pulsing power of insanity. He keeps his gaze fixed on it as he moves away, until he bumps into the table- one single candle, perched on it, tips over-
The dream shatters.
*wakes up, panting heavily*
...I wonder if Father's arrival here has anything to do with this. I hope what people have told me about retaining a physical body is true, and that Shibusen is alright. *sigh*
Here is a place where shadows fear to tread. They'd be redundant.
He surveys the room, turning from the window, and smiles a bit- it may be monotonous, but it's perfectly symmetrical from this angle, even down to the mirrors on either side of the room. They resemble the one in the Death Room quite a lot, actually, except the flame in the candles burns curiously black, and even the tallow is shaded to gray. Both are flanked by a pair of curtains, so deep red that you could mistake them, yes, for black, if you weren't really looking. but the mirrors themselves are slightly, slightly different, and it gives him pause. One looks normal- normal for here, at least, and bares a dark pane.
The other shines like someone had pointed a flashlight towards it.
He moves to stand in front of the out-of-place mirror, noting how his breath fogs up the glass- and then how the numbers for the Death Room begin writing themselves. He's heard of this, though he's never done it himself; as the son of the Shinigami, he doesn't have to. He has a more direct link to his father. But still...
When the image comes up, it's unexpected, and he blinks in surprise- it's a normal reflection, almost, in that that's definitely him in the glass, but he's taller, and slightly thinner, and he's wearing his Shinigami cloak, with the mask tipped upwards so that his face is visible. There are a few lines on that face, and slight bags under his eyes, but what shocks Kid is that he looks so happy. There's Maka, standing beside him, he notices, and behind her are Soul and Liz and Patti, Black*Star and Tsubaki, even Blair in cat form. It's heartwarming, for a moment, and then his reflection bends over towards Maka and it all goes wrong. There's a horrible splintering sound, and a crack runs through the pane suddenly, like solid lightning; an avalanche of shards fall down, away from the mirror's frame, and pool at his feet sadly, still glittering like stardust.
Slowly, instinctively, he turns around. A reflection has manifested itself in the other mirror, without his help, and the vision is steadily getting clearer, the darkness of the glass fading away. He understands now that it was always there, he just couldn't see it, obscured at it was by the original black shading. Pulled by a force he can't resist, he moves closer, one foot after the other until he's standing only inches away from it. This time, the mask has stayed on, but it's not the mask he's used to- this is Father's mask from before Shibusen, and possibly a more ghastly version than even that. With a deadly, exaggerated lack of speed, his other self reaches up and tips the mask back, just enough to show his eyes; they glow in the near-dark, burning golden bright, but one look into them sends shivers down his spine. He sees nothing there, no spark of life, just death. Always death.
Something crimson red drips down from his shadow's hand, down his arm, falls to the floor with a subtle 'plink' of something warm and wet hitting cold stone. Kid realizes that those hands- his hands -are covered in blood. As he stares, the image fades, but this time the glass disappears with less fanfare- it simply seems to melt back, and what it leaves is empty black space. Not the back of the mirror, but a hole into nothing. He reaches out to touch it, mesmerized-
And snaps his hand back immediately, feeling the strange, pulsing power of insanity. He keeps his gaze fixed on it as he moves away, until he bumps into the table- one single candle, perched on it, tips over-
The dream shatters.
*wakes up, panting heavily*
...I wonder if Father's arrival here has anything to do with this. I hope what people have told me about retaining a physical body is true, and that Shibusen is alright. *sigh*