Jeavell was wrapped in a weird combo of her Contrarian form and his slimy regular self. The left side of his face had that familiar smirk, the right a collection of shapes guarding a massive eye. Her sharp suit (complete with the emblem of a Wyrm on the left breast pocket) distorted into pixels around the sleeves. Jeavell turned so that Devon could only see his abstract side, and spoke to the audience above.
”Now, on this episode of Date With Death, we have something truly special! For the first time I won’t be the bachelor.”
The crowd booed Devon. She blinked rapidly, trying to remain centered. Jeavell quieted them down with a firm hand gesture.
“Okay, okay. I hear you, I don’t love it either. But don’t worry, seeing as I’m still single at the moment, any one of you ladies are welcome to take me as a consolation prize.”
The cheers were overwhelming, Devon couldn’t bear it. Seeing her own image act as this Constants personal hype crowd was fucking demoralizing.
Jeavell looked out at someone who simply wasn’t there and gave a thumbs up. “My line manager is telling me we’re ready to start.” He saddled up to Devon, a crescent moon smile that sprouted into nonsense on one side. The cubes that restrained her prevented any action. So desperately did she want the strength to rip off these restraints and break Jeavell’s neck.
From the coherent side of her face Jeavell spoke, “Now, you’ve been causing quite a stir Devon Near. I’m all for rule breakers, but some people think you’ve been going too far with this, “murdering your superiors as if they were lessers” song and dance. Care to comment?” He lowered the mic.
And then shoved it into her face before Devon could speak, bloodying her nose. The feedback mixed with a muttered expletive as Jeavell pulled back, nodding like she had said something trenchant.
“Wow, what a firebrand! Let's see who’s trying to woo her heart today. Contestants?”
Three spotlights came down on the competitors as the rest of the room grew dim.
“First up! Tevon Sleer!” Under the first spotlight, a stretched out version of Devon waved and blew kisses to the audience. “Tell us about yourself, Tevon?”
“Well I started existing around six months ago, ever since a certain man entered my life.” The crowd gasped and oohed, savoring the gossip. “But don’t worry ladies, or should I say variations on the same lady, it’s an open relationship.” She did a pronounced wink that made Devon shudder. “Also, I enjoy using humor as a coping mechanism, and I think trauma is a myth.” The crowd applauded.
”Fantastic. For a reflection, you’re quite well rounded!” Jeavell pinwheeled her arms and sauntered over to the next contestant, a scrappier version of Devon holding a comically large version of Adam in front of her face. “Skevon Bleer, would you mind putting your guard down for a minute?”
“No.” The reflection said, adamant on staying armed. “If I do, you'll kill me.”
“Wow… that’s true!” Again the crowd applauded. Jeavell laughed and leaned on the slab that housed Skevon. “What does a charming rapscallion of indeterminate gender need to do to get a girl to lighten up a bit?”
“Die?” The crowd booed. Devon had to smile.
“That won’t happen.” Jeavell said. He wiped non existent stains off her suit, as if cleaning away the previous question. “Let's talk about hobbies. What do you do for fun?”
“Hide. Cry. Breathe. But never too loud, if I breathe too loud they’ll find me.” Skevon scrunched up her face. “But then I’ll gut them. I can fight now, I know how to stab. I cut and cut but they never stop coming. I get smaller every day, more spaces for me to hide. I won’t be safe till there's no one but me.” The crowd murmured amongst themselves. “I watched my dad die.”
Jeavell nodded sagely. The crowd applauded.
“Well, you bore me. Moving on!” She shooed her away, (but being a reflection on a crystal slab, she couldn’t move) and moseyed on down to contestant number 3.
”Says here you go by ‘The Fear.’” This reflection of Devon was covered in blood and built like a brick shithouse.
“That's correct ma’am, it’s because I put the fear in people. I kill people, see, and I like people to know it. Them being scared, it adds to the fun. Why do something if you don’t like it?” She spoke with a strange folksy accent that Devon herself didn’t possess. Skevon moved as far in her slab away from The Fear as she could.
“Couldn’t have said it better myself!” She slapped the slab. It was heftier than the others, fitting The Fear’s larger physique.
The Fear nodded, showing a confidence that even Devon was jealous of. “I also want to shout out the concept of moral justification. Without it I wouldn’t have the body you see today.” The crowd cheered in a flirtatious manner.
”I think we all owe it to moral justification, am I right ladies?” Jeavell said it like a euphemism.
Devon prowled the limits of her freedom, tensing and untensing her trapped hands, desperate to escape this ridiculous nightmare of forced reflection. She begged Adam to wake up, he was too busy chanting “the mirror, the mirror…”
“Devon.” The spotlight fell on her, Devon lowered her gaze to the ground. “What do you most want to see in yourself?”
She knew this was coming but it didn’t make an answer any easier. It felt foolish to lie, but even dumber to tell the truth. “Preferably free. Able to murder you, if possible.”
The crowd burst into applause, slabs rattling.
“I agree with that.” Skevon said.
“the mirror, the mirror…” Adam said. His voice was getting louder, his cadence more insistent.
”And perhaps that will happen, but perhaps not,” Jeavell said as she rubbed his temples. “Okay, we’re done with this, lets-“
”No we’re not!” Devon yelled. There was a popping sound in her brain, she knew something had snapped inside her. “I’m fucking sick of this! I’ve been spending the last few hours dealing with you fuckers doing your ridiculous mind games and for what?? If this is supposed to teach me something, I HAVEN’T LEARNED SHIT.”
The audience was silent as they were lifted out of view. Devon continued ranting, barely aware of what was happening around her.
“You say this is about me? HOW AND WHY??? You’re a pompous asshole who likes the sound of their own voice, you know nothing about who I am.”
Adam had stopped talking.
Jeavell stared down at Devon, her face unguarded, the abstract miasma mostly gone. Shockingly clear of any put on, he looked almost embarrassed. He coughed awkwardly and looked to the contestants. “Well now, what's your answer to that?”
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”Buy me dinner first!” Tevon said, playing to the (now empty) stands.
”Breathing is a threat, few know this. If you all held your breath and asphyxiated I would be a happy woman forever and ever.” Skevon said, her version of Adam waving in the nonexistent breeze. Its cardboard backside was showing.
”I think we should murder Jeavell together, and then I’ll take her corpse, for personal reasons.” The Fear said.
In a brain now silent, a familiar rhythm returned.
“Devon… what happened?” Adam said.
She wanted to scream in relief, but was able to contain herself. Jeavell turned suddenly, having heard Adam’s words.
“Don’t-don’t worry about it, I’m glad you’re back” He vibrated uselessly in the concrete as Jeavell walked forward with intention. Adam being conscious was cold comfort if he couldn’t do anything.
”This place is strange… the color of this curtain so achingly familiar. Something beyond the Visionary…”
“We don’t have time for that, can you get out of the ground?”
Mumbling words that could have been sacred hymns or a bawdy limerick, the provocative full body figure of the Morrison appeared in Jeavell’s hand. The fucking liar.
”I… I’m as stuck as you I think.”
Jeavell brandished her Remark, a smokey bayonet smashed up with an oil belching generator and a motorized guitar. “I know what you’re thinking. But I am not a liar. My position in the Legacy means shit and my Remark reflects that. But my position with the Contrarians needle is very good, I’m respected by a Wyrm, and he has gifted me something far stronger.” He flashed blood black teeth, a look that suited her. “My ADM levels are higher than they’ve ever been.”
”Wait… Devon, at the risk of death for both of us, do I have your permission to try something?”
“What?” Devon said.
”What.” Jeavell said in unison, looking just as confused.
“Sure. Sure! Whatever you want, just do it!” Devon screamed.
Jeavel readied the Morrison with a ripcord pull, smoke belched out like an evacuation. The three reflections, giddy with bloodlust, pressed against their slab confines and moaned.
“Okay” and then Adam disappeared. Not from sight, he was already encased in the cubes, but from mind, from touch. Devon’s mind felt very empty.
A second later he came back with a pop, floating right in front of Jeavel.
He launched at Jeavell’s unabstracted eye, drilling into the cornea as the Constant screamed.
The blocks restraining Devon melted into the ground. The three slabs were still there, looking confused as to why they still existed. Didn’t matter. She was already close to Jeavel and only had to run a few steps to join in on the fun.
WHUMP!
The Morrison came down from her right, and she was whacked promptly left into the slabs. The middle slab did not serve as a cushion, and she heard what might have a neck bone breaking. From a blurry angle, she saw the three reflections laughing at her from up high, pointing down at where she lay.
“I can’t believe I was gonna ask for your hand in consciousness.” Tevon said, laughing like a landlord.
”I can’t believe I was gonna ask to slip between your cerebral.” Skevon said, chortling like a thief.
”And I can’t believe I was gonna- hey wait.” The three slabs cracked and shuddered. Jeavell was behind them, on a pillar slowly rising to the sky.
Their slabs all shattered at once, leaving only the outlines of the forms. They had all been freed.
“Well this has been a fun show but it’s time for our final round: whoever kills Devon becomes Devon.”
“Oh fuck” Devon got up and called for Adam. He landed with familiar heft. “I half blinded her! How is he still doing this?”
More than just remaining stable, The Reflections were now being refined. Their crystal bodies smoothed and shrink wrapped around their projected reflections. Soon they were unrecognizable from flesh and blood.
“Don’t know, don't care.” Devon said. She backed up to get a lay of the land, pointing Adam at the reflections while her other hand fanned her face.
Skevon was the first to strike. Being the smallest, there was less of her to refine, and so she was on Devon first while the other two were still finishing.
She gnashed her teeth and lunged. Devon caught her by the head and slammed her to the ground. With a swift stomp the reflection shattered. Dead.
Crunching on her sister’s remains, Tevon toddled up with a laugh. She wielded her version of Adam like a joke, the punchline landing too quickly to dodge. There was barely time for a counterattack, Tevon was a one woman army, slashing faster than one could count.
Devon tried jumping over Tevon. The reflection responded with a wink and a throw.
It clipped her ankle and Devon hit the floor harshly.
Her head to the ground, standing on one knee, arm grasping at a shoulder, Adam sprawled next to her.
Adam covered by Tevon’s shadow.
”Well, they always told me otherwise, but I guess a laugh will always beat a frown.”
Devon stayed where she was, watching intently as Tevon’s shadow slid across the floor, rising till all she saw was that black. Tevon’s breath smelled like artificial flowers.
”How about you show me a smile, Devon. Enough with this grimdark seriousness, we know that’s not you. Or it won’t be anymore. Come on, show that you can laugh at a joke at your own exp-“
Devon turned whistle fast, her arm coming down like a guillotine. She got all of Tevon’s torso and some of the left leg in a diagonal slice. The reflection froze like a statue. Only her eyes moved as they tracked the slow slide of her top half, about to plummet to the floor.
The Fear burst through Tevon’s form before it fell, obliterating the whole reflection.
The Fear pointed at her version of Adam with pride, it was bloated and pungent, more than 10 feet long. “Hello Ma’am. This gives me the authority to kill. I kill to give myself authority. It’s a palindrome, and it hurts like reality.”
The Palindrome slammed to the ground, creating a crack that formed and chased Devon as she backpedaled.
“I don’t know what a palindrome is!” Devon grunted and tried to get in a quick swipe. The Fear put her Palindrome up as a shield and then swept it forward, sending floor flying in the process. Blood spattered the polished weapon. Devon winced and checked her shoulder. It would heal, it would heal.
Another thrust by The Fear, this one riskier, her target was out of range and she had to stoop just to try and connect. The tip landed at Devon foot. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Devon hoisted Adam close to her chest and ran up The Fear’s palindrome, meeting her grinning mouth with a fist to the teeth.
She tried to lodge Adam in The Fear’s massive skull, but it didn’t give. The reflection was made out of sturdier stuff than the others. Devon was yanked back by a hand, she turned quickly and bit and chewed until she was the one holding firm.
”Embarrassing. I admire the attempt but delaying the inevitable only hurts both of us.” She heard the whoosh of the air as The Fear’s Palindrome was raised. She had Adam where he needed him, her hands busy keeping The Fear’s own spread and prone. It was a plan they had decided on without even speaking. Though when he buried into her ankle, creating the hold necessary for what was to come, she couldn’t help but think there had to be a better way.
“Lighter.” Just as the blade came down, Devon was pulled up by Adam, who used his perch in Devon to yank her out of harms way. The blade found a target, but it wasn’t the one the wielder wanted.
Devon’s scream was loud, but it was nothing compared to The Fear. “My arm, my fucking arm!”
Standing up and surveying the scene, Devon felt lucky The Fear had only skimmed her.
The Fear had sliced her own arm clean off. Obviously her Palindrome could do a lot of damage. Perhaps someday…
With the Fear on both knees, frantically pawing at her arm and trying to reattach it, the next few seconds were easy.
With the subtle boost of Adam (accounting for the ankle wound he had caused) Devon jumped and landed on The Fear’s head. She scurried around to the back of her, wrapped her arms arround her head, and pulled. As soon as she got her moving there was no way to reverse it, and the massive form of The Fear toppled backwards.
She broke on impact. With a clean dismount Devon avoided the shrapnel.
The curtains were miles in the distance. Jeavell was nowhere in sight, and his rhythm felt just as far away.
With trepidation, Adam flew over to where The Fear’s Palindrome laid. The faux Remark was melting like an egg, seeping into the cracks in the concrete. He wiggled his large end, his way of showing dismissal. “It doesn’t look anything like me.”
“Some reflection.”