42 | survivors; of forsaken lands

The answer was not one that Lucas could've expected.

If Tellers were humans that survived End's Delusion, this strange, messed up apocalypse that reaped the life of many... then how many times had it repeated in the past?

Or were the apocalypses they survived from different realities?

The last thought seemed too unrealistic for Lucas to properly consider. There was a plethora of unknown things humanity had yet to discover.

Among them, alternate realities were such a possibility.

Despite that, the idea seemed so out of place and abrupt, he couldn't wrap his mind around it. Regardless, if the apocalypse had occurred once in the past, that would mean the Tellers came from far back in time.

Both ideas were peculiar, and Lucas frowned.

The Teller noticed his expression, the boyish features remaining calm and collected.

If he survived... would he also become a Teller, part of the apocalypse's schemes? Is that what happened to Kane in the aftermath he never wrote?

"That is...."

"Such as?"

Lucas flinched, turning back. "How do you know about that?"

Lucas waited, but the boy had no intention of elaborating. The man fell silent—would it be wrong to shake this brat and force him to spit out the truth?

As an adult, he should show restraint and not violence. He temporarily dismissed the idea.

He continued walking deeper into the dark corridor. The boy instructed him which way to turn, avoiding the scaling shadows slithering on the wall and the rolling body parts that peeked around several corners.

Lucas decided against beating the boy up, seeing how he was so useful at the moment. He was a considerate and gentle person, after all.

The see-through child peered at him with dead eyes.

"I'm not a liar." stated Lucas expressionlessly. "I simply think highly of myself."

The boy stared, and turned away. He didn't understand the humans of this world, nor did he think he wanted to understand such a shameless, confident way of thinking.

said the boy after an unknown time, guiding Lucas so thoroughly that the man hadn't even noticed his arrival.

Lucas' gaze flickered before he pushed the door open with both hands. "It'll be an answer you're sure to love."

The door slammed shut in the ghost-boy's face.

This was his domain, right? Though Lucas didn't care, and wanted the satisfaction of slamming the door.

A sword slashed in front of him, sparks of energy flickering off it.

Lucas jumped back in surprise, drawing his own blade as his vision adjusted to the sudden dim light after walking in the dark for so long.

Metal clanged, and the hooded face of the man flashed before Lucas as he saw a glimpse of a sharp gaze that widened upon seeing him. Lucas froze, and then held the sword at his side.

"You're alive." Somehow, he was relieved.

Kane couldn't be more relieved, resisting the urge to check for any injuries on the other party. "So are you."

Lucas focused his eyes and realized that a deep burst of darkness spread on one side of the robe, blood dripping onto the ground. Cuts and ripped fabric lined the ends, making it appear tattered and beaten.

He struggled to resist his own pain, tiding over him in a constant, rolling wave.

Similarly, Kane looked over his brother's horrible state, with his loose sleeves ripped and torn, hair splayed over his forehead and a rising chest on the verge of exhaustion.

Then he noticed the bandaged ankle with something unusual protruding out of it. Kane's stomach dropped, and he took a step forward.

"You're injured."

"It's nothing—we'll deal with the current matter on hand first."

Kane pursed his lips. His current identity was that of a stranger and he couldn't interfere—additionally, he didn't have any tools to help at this moment. He collected his emotions and nodded with great reluctance.

Lucas walked over to the mirror, chanting, "Mirror, mirror, on the wall!"

There was no response.

Lucas frowned deeply, stroking the surface that rippled under his touch, but still no reflection appeared. Kane stood beside him, lifting Snow White over his back so that she'd be reflected, too.

"Perhaps my real self and your partner haven't reached the mirror yet."

Lucas believed that to be the case too—but what if Elias had died? Then his real self would've lost his life as well.

Not knowing what was going on the other side of the mirror frustrated Lucas, but he could only wait and blame himself. Blame himself for letting him be saved by such a ridiculous character.

And just as he thought that, a sharp pain burst in Lucas' stomach, and the mirror shimmered to reveal four people.

But what Lucas first saw was his own figure, drooped over in Elias' arms.

His eyes narrowed onto his own stomach, his hand wandering over to it subconsciously. A bright burst of red bloomed through the fabric of his reflection's clothes, and his face turned deathly pale.

———xxx———

On the opposite side, in which Elias is real and Lucas is a reflection:

Elias clutched the unconscious body in his hands, gritting his teeth in frustration. He hadn't expected the turn of events, nor did he hope for it.

It started back at Snow White's house.

At some point, he'd been hit with a sudden dizziness, one that made his stomach want to lurch and his mind spin painfully, to the point that he couldn't think or speak.

He heard a ringing in his ear, a shrill laughter that echoed loudly. He felt things grab onto him, slithering over his skin with a chilling, slimy touch.

He'd collapsed; and Snow White took the opportunity to run.

Kane had deliberated over chasing the woman, or looking after this stranger, and ultimately decided the latter option. He was a man who couldn't leave those in pain alone.

When Elias woke up again, still feeling ill and at unease, he smiled impatiently. There was an irritated flicker over his distant gaze, and the smile that curved his lips felt chilling.

Not to mention, he still didn't know where Lucas was, or if that foolish reflection had wandered into some trouble.

It was all so annoying.

And Elias hated annoying things.

However, there had been no other option but to search for Snow White, who couldn't have gone far with the injuries on her body and her weakened state of mind. Barefoot and crazy—she shouldn't have been a difficult person to catch.

They seemed to have thoroughly underestimated this girl who murdered seven 'people', leaving their mutilated corpses in the room.

She left them a trail, almost mocking and encouraging them to chase after her.

What else could they do but take the bait?

Elias still had a headache, and a feeling of disconnection with his own body, as if a part of him was wandering somewhere between life and death. He blinked away the black spots and kept moving.

Kane glanced at him, but not noticing any evident injuries, said nothing to comment. He kept a cold distance, one that both men preferred.

Following a trail of broken apple chunks, smeared with blood, they returned to the castle. And that was where it all went wrong.

The castle shouldn't have been a danger zone on this side of the mirror, since the Queen was dead. But they'd forgotten; Snow White had the same power as the Evil Queen on this side of the mirror.

Elias also thought of one thing: where did Lucas' reflection go?

And would his presence be necessary in order to activate the mirror? There were too many variables to consider.

Even without that, Elias couldn't help but wonder—wouldn't that foolish reflection be safer by his side? If it ran off and got into trouble, then the real Lucas would die as well.

That wasn't something he desired.

He had yet to thoroughly dissect and comprehend that man's existence.

However, there was nothing that could be done to dispel the feeling of unease, and Elias motioned for Kane to enter.

"When you find her, we have to get her to appear in front of the mirror, in order for the good Snow White to swap with the Evil version."

Kane nodded, expressionless. "Understood."

They both reached a mutual understanding that whatever happened to either party, they wouldn't feel responsible. Looking down the darkness of the hallway, of the palace that contained numerous creatures of hallucinations, they didn't have high hopes.

Elias could even see a few blinking eyeballs, covered in thin veins, peering at him through the shadows, where the occasional flickering candlelight hit.

Whisperings that crept down the hallways; ravings that could hardly be heard or understood.

They both entered, taking their first step through the open doors, beckoning them to come closer.

"Don't look back."

Pressing their heels into the creaky floorboards, they pushed off and sprinted towards the stairs, turning down opposite hallways. It was like a maze, purposely leading them the wrong way.

Elias heard whispers creep into his ears, a slither of sounds and the loud thumping that surrounded him, banging on the walls.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

He snatched a sword from one of the amour stands, prepared for any attacks.

Snow White's voice reverberated across the space, a crazed giggle that boomed against their eardrums. Elias coughed, squinting as he felt his hearing go numb from the thundering noise.

Slivers of blood trickled out, and he tried to ignore the screeching pain.

"You crazy woman." sighed Elias, as he glanced sideways and saw something wriggling under the flesh-coloured wallpaper, like a worm under skin.

He stabbed out his sword, bursting into the pocket of air as black slime bulged out, dripping to the floor. Staring for a second, he realized something was wrong when it bubbled on the carpeted ground and inched closer to him.

He took a few steps back hurriedly, disgusted.

Where would S now White be?

He doubted she'd be on the first floor—that would be too nearby. For a girl that was both cowardly and hysterical, she wouldn't stay that close to the intruders.

She would likely hide somewhere she felt safe.

If the Evil Queen had perpetrated her fate... Elias thought back to the scene he saw in the house. The likelihood of her having been violated...

There would be few places she could remain in the castle, this cursed place that reminded her of the mastermind behind everything. The question was where? Then, the illusion of a boy entered his vision.

What was the Teller of this Story to Snow White?

Likely an important existence, considering how vulnerable the boy seemed in her presence. Elias chuckled to himself at the foolishness of that Teller, giving himself away so easily.

Siblings? Lovers? Family? Friends?

He drew quick conclusions in his mind as he side-stepped, curling his body to avoid a hand that struggled to climb behind him, dragging itself along the floor.

If the answer was family, then the person might have a room in this castle.

Would that be Snow White's hiding place?

He rushed up a flight of stairs, feeling the rumble under his feet as it begun to move with him, throwing him off balance. He laughed, amused at the schemes.

There were two balcony rooms on the second floor, the last he remembered. Typically, a balcony was connected to a bedroom—he estimated the location of the rooms in correlation to where he stood.

He generally remembered which direction he was in, even through the extra twists and turns.

Elias closed his eyes, adjusting to the darkness before he spread out his ten fingers.

Thin strings burst from his skin, snaking into the air. Fine, invisible threads that stretched out in numerous directions. His power was to attach them to people in order to manipulate their thoughts, but they were flexible.

They could seek out life, eager and hungry to control somebody.

Or something.

One of the strands connected, and he felt the thread pull, a smile curling over his lips. He dipped his head, listening for any sounds and walking forward as he disconnected the other threads except for one.

"Found you."

A spectator might wonder which was the real villain at this moment.

The Teller's image flickered beside him, young eyes watching carefully. Elias glanced over. "Here to stop me?"

There was no hesitation, only sorrow and regret.

Elias chuckled. "Then so be it."

The thread snapped before a large door with intricate designs with plated gold surrounding, and a pulsing white light seeping from under the cracks. He slammed the door down crudely, and Snow White smiled at him from the bed.

Innocently sitting, her head tilted and bent completely in half.

Her eyes glowed lightly, before sharpening onto the boy's image. The image she should not have been able to see.

"...brother?"

Elias watched bewilderment spread across the Teller's face, and shook his head. With a Teller losing control of his emotions so easily, it was no wonder he couldn't properly maintain his ability to remain a ghost.

That the made-up memories in this reality would be able to see him.

And the young boy trembled, memories flashing. His sister's sweet, gentle smile that curved her eyes and curled her lips joyously. Then the tear-stained cheeks, the rippled clothes, the blood that stained white bed sheets in an abandoned house.

Her despairing wails; his inability to do anything.

The body that trembled violently, covered in filth and grime. In blood and loss.

"Brother, has God forsaken me?"

He had held her close, shaking his head frantically. He begged for her to remain safe when he confronted his own mother, but his little sister had been ruined in the period he turned away.

When he found her again, after searching endlessly, it was over his mother's corpse. His little sister had smiled painfully from a distance he could not reach.

She was still young.

"It's over, brother. I'm sorry."

He should've said he didn't care. That whatever crimes she committed, he would condone. Then she wouldn't have been alone.

Or she wouldn't have ended up a victim in a serial murder case, head twisted and displayed in some madman's cage. A mess of torn skin and gore, piled in some dirty corner.

Snow White, abandoned by her mother, almost killed by her brother, violated in a dark room by several men, and then taken by an abuser.

That was the true tragedy behind Snow White's Story.

Time slowed, and Elias recognized the change, the twisted stretch of the girl's wide eyes. She lunged forward, crooked limbs flinging ahead. Her mind went into overdrive, the entire castle responding to her madness.

Shrill laughter rung in the stagnant air.

The shadows rushed towards Elias from his back, as he turned his head, sword high in the air, to block it.

But the speed of the shadows was too fast, and his reaction time too slow.

He cursed under his breath, knowing. 'I won't block it in time.'

Then a mirage flashed before his vision, at a speed both fast and slow. Elias' heartbeat slowed, eyes widening.

The glowing pure white eyes.

Lucas—the reflection—furrowed his eyebrows, as if not noticing why he had moved when he did either. The shadow rushed forward, sharp blades that would cut through anything.

And Lucas was no exception.

The man's body jerked upon the impact, slamming backwards into the fleshy walls, red slipping from his lips. His body slowly slid down before crumpling to the ground.

———xxx———

[ding! message from lukiyo]

Hello~ Hope your week has been wonderful, and not too chilly or too hot (I'm freezing where I am T^T) A bit of an early update today since I'm having some birthday celebrations later tonight~

Thank you for reading, and your brilliant selves being here with me at this moment! Much, much appreciation!! Take care~