Darkened Arrow ｡ Henry Mills

3 - FIRST TASTE OF DARKNESS

　　In the middle of the dense woods in the realm of the Enchanted Forest, the vault of the Dark One opened for the first time in centuries, since the age of the Ogre Wars when Rumplestiltskin had claimed the darkness. And this could only mean one thing and one thing only: a new Dark One was being born, a new darkness was arising.

　　Its bronze pieces shifted, turned and clicked into position as a thick, tar-like substance poured out of the sides like a river. More darkness spewed out, defying gravity and rising to form the shape of a body. It slithered and glistened, transforming from tar-like matter to a head of platinum hair and fair skin. And then, all at once, the new Dark One was born as Teresa Holmes.

　　The fifteen-year-old glanced around the wooded area with wide eyes, a hood covering the top of her head. She could hear a small stream of water nearby, and all she could see were trees, rocks, and moss. Teresa knew she was in the woods, yet the last thing she can remember was sacrificing herself to the darkness in the middle of the street in Storybrooke, Maine.

　　"Where the hell am I?" She wasn't talking to anyone in particular, more so just voicing her thoughts out loud and hoping that someone was nearby and overheard her, that they would come and help her. But that was just wishful thinking. The girl knew she was alone, and that nobody was going to come prancing through the trees to help.

　　She took a step forward and almost tripped. Glancing down at her clothes, she found the outfit she had been wearing in Storybrooke gone and replaced by a pair of raggedy brown trousers and a tunic with a long robe that matched, which is what she had stumbled on. Teresa pushed down the hood and pulled the fabric away from her chest, face scrunching up in disgust and confusion. "And what the hell am I wearing?"

　　There was a sharp whistle then, startling the teenager and causing her to whip around in a frenzy to find who made the sound. "Who's there?" Teresa called out desperately as her cerulean eyes darted across every inch of the woods.

　　She heard the whistle again, this time from behind, and when she turned around, her eyes widened. There he sat, perched on a large rock with a smirk plastered across his scaly face that glistened like stars against the sun. He didn't look like he did when she last saw him. No, he looked just like he did when they first met when she was eleven.

　　Teresa's mouth fell open, her words spilling out in shock, "You're . . . you're supposed to be in Storybrooke. I saw you in your shop. In a coma."

　　Rumplestiltskin laughed. "Ah, yes I am. Or rather he is."

　　He? Teresa was confused. If he wasn't Rumplestiltskin, then who or what was he?

　　"What are you?"

　　"I'm many things. I'm the voice . . . in your head. The Dark One's powers inside you, inside all the Dark Ones," he explained. "Rumplestiltskin is but one of the many. Perhaps I can be another . . . how 'bout Gorgon the Invincible?" He raised his arms and in the blink of an eye and a cloud of maroon fog, the illusion of Rumplestiltskin was gone, replaced by a giant boar that breathed fire in her direction.

　　Teresa gasped and fell to the ground as the fire came barreling towards her. She stared up at the beast with wide eyes. "Stop!"

　　In a flash, Rumplestiltskin was standing in front of her again. "Yes, probably easier this way," he agreed. Teresa stood and moved past him, taking in her surroundings. "Now, are you ready to begin?"

　　"Begin what?"

　　"Well, willing to be the Dark One, of course!" he said cheerfully, as if the answer was so obvious. "Think of me as your guide but only until you've learned to embrace your powers."