Dull Colours [EDITED EDITION]

Nine | Trapped

Hera was unconscious. But how did she know that, if she was unconscious? Maybe she was dreaming? So many questions.

There was a little light. Hera's vision was clouded with blackness like looking in heavily tinted glass, but there was a pinprick of light, and the more Hera stared at it, the more it seemed to grow.

She didn't have a body - it was like she was trapped in her own mind. And it was cold, too. Hera felt like someone was there too, like she wasn't alone in her own mind. The thought made her wish for escape, for Athena, even for a body. The thought of Athena sent a pang of sadness rippling through her.

The light was getting overwhelmingly bright, yet she couldn't look away. She tried to squint but it felt impossible. Hera felt scared, being trapped in her own mind and unable to look away from this light that was slowly wrapping around her. Panic seized her, all rational thought gone.

And then the light was gone.

And she had a body.

Hera wasn't wearing what she thought she would have been wearing - what she was when she fainted. But instead she was wearing the battered dress she had been wearing when she had died - there was even blood on the neckline. Running her hands along it, she tried to calm the whirlwind of questions in her mind. Instead, she focused on the endless darkness around her. She could see nothing but her own body, as if it was against a black background. It was surreal and Hera was sure she was having a lucid dream like they always had in the movies.

Staring around her, Hera realised she couldn't move. As in she couldn't walk - she found sitting down wasn't very hard, but it was a strange feeling, sitting on nothing, so she got back up -

- and screamed out loud.

A figure had - literally - materialised in front of her. Hera had blinked and she had faded in from the blackness around her. Clapping a hand over her mouth, Hera surveyed the person in front of her. It was like looking into a mirror, except the person in the mirror was standing in an abnormal position - her proportions just seemed out. And her eyes were different. One was blacker than the darkness around them, and glimmering with evil, and the other was the stark blue of a Conjured's. Hera crossed her arms in a defensive position, trying not to shake with fear and confusion. "Who are you?" She bit her quivering lip, trying to keep her voice steady. It failed.

"I am you." At hearing the voice, memories flashed through Hera's head. The voice was that of the greatest Conjured, the one who had died.

"No you're not!" Hera's voice sounded desperate, so she tried again. "No, you're not." Her voice was firm, this time not shaking. She had convinced herself she couldn't die in her own mind.

Surely.

The blue- and black-eyed Hera snickered, a cruel laugh that made Hera prickle wth mixed feelings - mostly anger and sadness and something that felt like shame. "Of course I am you," the other Hera said in a teasing voice. "I am just the darker part." Her face was dead serious, if not a bit pitiful of Hera. Dropping the confident act, Hera dropped her arms and sighed, trying not to cry. "What are you going to do?" Hera rubbed her eyes, pushing back the pricking tears that threatened to spill.

The other Hera had an expression on her face similar to the one a mother might give her child. "Nothing. I just wanted to let you know I'm here. I always will be. I'm that little voice in your head," her face and tone turned threatening. "That will slowly but surely turn you mad until you just..." She trailed off, and Hera didn't want her to finish. The Dark Hera shrugged. "Anyway," she began checking her fingernails. "I -" and then she hissed, and it only took Hera a moment to figure out why.

The light had returned.

Grateful for it, but still confused, Hera looked up at it, and when she glanced back at her darker self, she was gone.

And then she was back - in the real world, Jacob leaning over her, and she was gasping and puffing as if she'd run a marathon.

Her face must have portrayed more than she thought, as Jacob's face quickly turned from concerned to regret, and he sat back on his heels, groaned and put his head in his hands. "I take it you met her."

Hera was confused. "Met who? Darker me? Then yeah, I did." Her voice was weary. Jacob shook his head. "Uh huh." Then Hera noticed something. "Wait, why did you say her? Wouldn't you have met a guy?" Jacob looked up at her, and his mouth twisted into a grimace. "I didn't have the light come until way after I met her. I was out for probably an hour. You were out for only half an hour. She showed me her true form, and..." he gulped. "Trust me it's not pretty. She's beautiful, don't get me wrong, but that's what's scary. One eye's black, one bright blue, and she's so beautiful you would follow her anywhere. I mean, for you, it would probably - theoretically - be a guy." He grimaced again. Hera shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, I -" she stopped abruptly, wondering if she'd heard correctly. "Did you just whisper my name?" Jacob just looked pained.

There was a soft chuckle, but it was distant, like an echo.

Hera.

"W-what?" She said out loud.

I told you I'm always here.

Hera groaned. "Just ignore it," Jacob reassured her. "Easier said than done." She retorted. "I promise it gets easier." He said. Hera remembered he had been through the same thing, wrapped her arms around him and mumbled into his shoulder, "I promise to try to stop fainting on you." Jacob chuckled at her muttered promise. "Okay," he told her. Hera smiled into his shoulder, happy she wasn't alone in this horrible nightmare her life had turned into.