𝐈𝐍𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐒; 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄

Chapter One; Andrew Stonehenge.

First part: Sweet Dreams.

Eyes rested upon the young man's sleeping body, visually tearing him apart as if he were their prey, lurking from the darkness of his own mind. But then, with a blow like a door slamming shut, he woke up.

Opening his eyes, he was greeted with anxiety and a sense of fear, almost palpable. The redhead sweated cold drops and looked cautiously around.

With a quick survey of his surroundings, he soon realized he was in the sky and, being rather quiet by nature, he was amazed by the beauty of the place. Clouds floated both above and below him, while the wind blew gently in that curious world.

In the distance, he spotted a door on a small stone mound. Interestingly, beneath the door, there was another exactly the same, but turned around?

"It must be some kind of mirror," he mentioned, looking up and down. Although the clouds seemed the same in both directions, he didn't see his reflection.

"It's... Quite artistic, actually," said Andrew, assuming he was stranded in the middle of a dream. But calmness couldn't fully reach his body, and a gust of wind, hinting at the opening of the door, made its presence felt.

With a creaking sound, as if it were very old and poorly cared for, the door swung open wide, revealing its interior. Thousands of shadows were present, indistinguishable, but one of them approached the exit.

Using his hands, he held onto the door frame to enter the world of the mirror and escape its darkness, revealing his long hair. The tone of it and the freckles on his face were similar to those of the protagonist, but with a much thinner, delicate, and effeminate complexion.

The extravagant figure was without any clothing, but there were no signs of reproductive organs, nor gender. With delicacy, it took a few steps down from the tumult of earth, moving almost a meter away from the door. At no time did it look away from Andrew. The light illuminated their pale face and showed their shiny hair as they emerged from the utmost darkness through the frame from which they came.

Suddenly, the door closed again, leaving behind the mystery of who the other beings inside it were, and with that, arose the question of what young Andrew was facing.

Staring at each other, he noticed that the figure had cracks along its body and eyes without pupils, leaving only irises of different shades of green.

"Who are you?" he asked, but with a certain hint of unease. And yet, he received no response. The gazes remained fixed, and Andrew pondered how he could confront the intruder.

"Where are we?" He asked a new question, again receiving no answer other than a gust of wind deafening him and a group of dense clouds obscuring his view of his companion.

It was as if the strange person sucked everything around them. It was swift; the clouds came quickly, and as quickly as they came, they were gone.

The stranger, little by little, could be seen through the clouds again, from their legs, which appeared thicker than they were before, to their torso, which similarly seemed more robust, until their face was observed. It was an identical copy of Andrew.

"What are you?" he asked now with a concerned expression in his voice, stepping back a couple of steps from his companion.

The response, despite not being aggressive or intimidating, left a hole in his stomach, making his eyes wide. "Who are you?" was what it said, even imitating the tone of the redhead's voice.