Whispers in the Dark「Pokemon Fanfiction」

Sᴇᴠᴇɴ • I Dᴏɴ'ᴛ Uɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅ

Chapter Seven: I Don't Understand

The darkness was interrupted as a crackle brought her pitch-black surroundings to life.

Celeana raised her head warily, and she was met with the sight of something resembling a shard of looking glass, nearly invisible against its dark backdrop—she'd just managed to spot it through the thin lines on its edges that proved its existence.

She stared into the broad belt of silver and black brocade, inspecting how it was more like a crystalline stream than a mirror. There was a foreign splotch of blinding white that hung behind her like a moon, and the teenager nodded to herself as she realised just why she was able to see the reflection in front of her.

The trainer reached out to touch the silky surface, but recoiled as searing pain shot through her palm like a branding iron. She jumped back on instinct, startled, and watched as the exterior rippled, the liquid-like mirror curling and causing the light to distort, the tiny crest glittering like a burst of white flame.

The teenager blinked and stared through the reflector, inspecting the blue-haired girl that sat opposite her, the two of them separated by nothing but a paper-thin wall.

The figure in the mirror copied her every movement—her every idle twitch, it seemed—and that shouldn't have worried her because she was just a reflection. Her reflection mirrored her movements.

It was basic knowledge that she had learnt before.

Yet, there was something off about the clone in the looking glass.

Instead of the pale amber that tinted her eyes and made her look like she was wide awake at all times, the brightness in her once clear eyes had disappeared. The girl staring at her through the glass looked almost dead.

Her eyes were half-open, and what had once been mercury was now a dull plum, lacking any trace of empathy. She had all the emotion of wet concrete, her facial muscles just as loose—there was no anger, no sadness, no joy or resentment.

"I don't get your world," the teenager opposite her lamented, her lips moving in a dramatic manner—almost as if she was trying and failing to project sadness into her voice.

Still, Celeana sat up straighter, not just surprised by her speech but the very tone—it was the exact same as the snide voice that had whispered in her ear and dragged her into this damned prison of darkness. "What do you mean?"

Her reflection spoke once again, face slack and dreary eyes jaded, as if her tired self was commenting on the many great sins of the world.

"I mean, why has Arceus decided on this?" As she spoke, a globe appeared in her hand, the radiance emitted from its very core enough to seep up every lick of darkness.

The teenager peered into the glittering prism, confused when she saw nothing but a lush scenery of a meadow—the very same meadow she had met her Ralts in earlier that day. It was as beautiful as she had remembered; however, the girl sitting across her seemed unmoved by the scene.

"Why did he even bother to create this thing called 'uniqueness?'" The figure tilted her head as she made the question, her face finally contorting in a comprehensible expression—contempt. "This just creates so much trouble."

All of a sudden, the girl reached a hand through the mirror, using a cold, delicate finger to tap Celeana's chin, tilting the trainer's head upwards.

The blue-tressed coordinator stared at her counterpart, paralysed with fear and utter bewilderment. The terror coursing through her veins with each heartbeat froze her in place— it curled around her limbs like shackles, taking the form of an invisible knife that twisted in her gut.