𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐇━︎━︎S. Wilson ✓︎

𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
REFLECTION

SHE WAS FILLED WITH NERVES. After exiting the meeting with the Avengers, she tightly crossed her arms over her chest, swallowing thickly as flashes of the blood that had been on her hands filled her mind. Had this been her? Was she the monster that had killed the agents? Had she really put her best friend, one of the most powerful Avengers besides Wanda, in the hospital in such bad condition that that dark part of her couldn't heal her? She wring her wrists, her eyes focused on the floor as she walked farther and farther away from the meeting room.

Skye knew what was happening to her. And she knew that she needed to tell some body. But who would she tell? And would they throw her in a cell as soon as she admitted to what it was that she's done? Her heart slammed roughly against her chest, beating so fast she was surprised that it hadn't sprouted from her body and onto the floor right in front of her. The guilt and fear was eating away at her, and little did she know that that fueled the darkness inside of her, and it made that part of her stronger.

She didn't notice Sam trying to catch up with her, darting straight for her room and quickly slamming the door shut before he could call out to her. She paced her room bag and forth, her hands twisted tightly within her hair. For a moment she swore she was going to pull her hair out. Her eyes were tightly shut, trying to block out the images that Steve had shared with them. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to tell someone that this wasn't her, that she hadn't been the one to almost murder her best friend. But something deep in her gut told Skye exactly what she needed to know.

It was true that when Skye had started using dark magic, it was sorely to help the Avengers out. Nothing more, nothing less. She wanted to do good with what it was that she could do. And yet in the end she had come to do the exact opposite. Frustrated and angry tears rolled down her cheeks, one hand covering her mouth and the other staying tightly clenched in her dark locks. She shook her head, the thought to deny that this was her taking over her head. She wanted to clear her mind of the thoughts, of the lies that so desperately wanted to fall from her tongue.

She walked into her bathroom, turning on her sink and quickly splashing water over her face. She held her dripping wet face over the sink for a few moments, allowing the thoughts to wash away with every droplet that fell from her face. She blindly reached over and grabbed for a towel, quickly patting and drying her face before sliding the white cloth down her face only to jump back in surprise by what she saw in her reflection.

It was still her, dark hair a little darker and a little longer. But there was something different. Something that shook her to her core. It was a simple difference. But it was one that was standing out like a sore thumb. Whilst Skye stood there with wide eyes, and in fear, her reflection simply held a smirk. One that slowly curled into a evil smile that you would see on a killer clown. Her hands shook and for a moment, she just stood there and stared, wondering if her reflection was going to say something. And then she realized: it's just a reflection.

Reflections can't harm you. That wasn't how mirror's worked. She carefully threw the towel still clutched tightly in her hands to the floor. She thought to herself, wondering if this made her officially insane. But she didn't care. She took a cautious step forwards, the feeling of suddenly being in a horror movie over coming her. And if she knew anything, she knew that the people that did this in horror movies usually were the ones to get killed first. Nonetheless, she continued forwards until her stomach was pressed against the sink. And then, she reached out her hand.

She didn't know what the hell it was that she was expecting. But this wasn't it. The reflection's hand shot out, grasping tightly onto Skye's wrist making a gasp fall from her lips. She wanted to yank away. She was so close, she really was. But the grip only tightened and tightened, and suddenly she realized that her reflection was indeed just that―︎a reflection. But instead of showing Skye, it showed the person that she was becoming. Tears filled her eyes and with a sudden burst of anger, a yell fell from her lips and the mirror shattered.

The grasp on her wrist was abruptly gone, making Skye stumble backwards until she managed to catch her balance on the wall. Her breaths were heavy, panicked, wondering what the hell it was that she just witnessed. She shakily made her way from her bathroom, tripping over to her bed and sitting at the end of it. Her eyes were wide, and tears started to feel her eyes. As she sat there for a few moments, she knew exactly what it was that she had to do. She had to let someone know what it was that was happening to her. And she needed to let them know before it was too late and she strikes again.