Pride.

Chapter 4

  The Reflection World is grey. And it is called the Reflection World for a good reason.

  This place, world, is an exact replica of the real world. The buildings are grey. The ground is grey. The sky is grey.

  I am colourful. I look out of place, in a red jacket, white sweater, navy jeans and pale blue backpack. This is ridiculous.

  There is one thing that is extremely different from the real world to this one. There is no sound. I can hear myself breath, and move, but I’m alone. The only slightly disguisable sound is an odd, whispering, and breezy-like noise.

  So I start to walk. The buildings don’t end, and they all look the same. There are sidewalks, and cars, and everything a typical city would have. But they are all grey. And I’m alone.

  At some point I realize I’m softy singing. Absolutely great. Two more days, and I’ll end up insane.

Fifteen minutes.

Thirty minutes.

Forty-five minutes.

 After an hour passes, I’m in what I believe is South Africa. The Reflection Agency was right on the edge of the Antarctic. Literally. And it seems that the Reflection World doesn’t have oceans.

  But I can hear something odd. It’s that whispering again...but louder. So much more loudly. Fiercer. I slip my dagger out from my backpack, and keep on walking. The sound doesn’t stop.

  It’s becoming so much more loud...what is it? I turn around, and find the source of the noise.

  It’s so much like a human. The body shape is the same of a young woman, like me. The whispering noise is definitely coming from...her? She is almost like air. Grey mist, or shades, or clouds are what forms her. She is almost see-through, but the mist keeps on swirling, creating her body. She does not have a face. She is absolutely terrifying.

  She doesn’t touch the ground, either. Her body floats just above the ground, and when she moves, she glides. The air around her is so cold as well, and I shiver.

  Because she is less than five feet away.

  I don’t know what she is.

  I don’t know what she wants.

  So I flee.

  I run as fast as I can go, through the streets, and a cramp develops. But I don’t stop. I’m terrified. I can hear her coming. The whispering has turned into something more fearful, a high pitched, furious whistle. I make the mistake of turning to see where she is.

  3.Right on my heels. I see her, but I don’t see whatever trips me. I slam into the cold cement of the sidewalk, and immediately pain shoots through my wrist. I haven’t heard a snap; at least it isn’t broken. Must be sprained.

  Not that it matters, because the mist woman is less than ten feet away. She is larger now- and more menacing. The air around her is so cold...I feel so frozen...I can feel myself slump onto the ground...but it’s just too cold...

  SHRIEEEEEK! The woman is uttering the most awful sound I have ever heard. It’s high pitched, loud, and sounds as though she’s being burned alive. She is screaming the sound of pure agony.

   As I watch this terrible scene, the woman dissolves. One second she is there, curled on the ground, screaming the terrible noise, and the next she is simply gone. Not a trace left.  So I stand back up

  But there is someone in her place.

  He looks familiar. I’ve definitely seen him before. Tall, blonde, brown eyes, athletic...and he holds a knife...Alexander Prince. The Selector I had learned about, in the real world. The star pupil. He is standing directly where the woman used to be, looking scruffy and messy. And like me, he is a knife user. But unlike my knife, his is glowing white.