I looked around for a moment in utter silence, taking in several of the many deadpan, stoic faces. My eyes darted nervously to the window, noting that it didn't seem like it would be daytime anytime soon.
So why? Why had they all gone silent? Was it because of me?
I straightened myself hearing distant, muffled cries from the next carriage over. "Thank you," I muttered, though I wasn't sure who or what I was thinking.
They all regarded me with silence, still staring at me with dead eyes. Despite the eerie, one sided staring contest, I couldn't help but run my eyes through each and every one of the pitiful individuals gathered, wondering if any of them shared a sentiment similar to mine when first entering the trials.
I cleared my throat somewhat unnerved and addressed them all, "Why do you stay silent?" A few of the hollowed blinked, their eyes flickering with a hint of awareness. "Aren't you angry? Don't you want to fight back against whatever did this to you?"
One of them was a dirty-looking man with patchy stubble around his face and wearing baggy rags. "Angry?" he rasped from years of not speaking. "We are… angry. So envious of those… who still live, who still have a chance."
Another joined in, a woman's voice sharp and clear, "Angry… so angry. They took everything from us… left us here to rot. We were once like you. I envied my neighbor, her joy, her family. They were all just so… so perfect."
My brows furrowed, the word envy becoming a trigger word in my head now. "Envy, is that all you've come to know?"
"Envy." The homeless-looking man repeated. "That's all that's left in me… I… I envied my brother. He had everything. Wealth, love, children. I had nothing… nothing but envy."
A different hollow, a young man with eyes as empty as the rest yet filled with remnants of some self-awareness, whispered, "I envied the strong. Those who could fight, who could stand up for themselves. I was always weak, always afraid…"
An older woman, her face lined with many intertwining wrinkles, added, "I envied the young, their vitality, the many years ahead of them. My time was cut short… stolen by age…"
"I was envious of my sister's beauty." A plain-looking woman took my attention. "She had everything handed to her because of her looks, while I… I was treated as a stranger."
Another voice followed this time from a man sitting hunched near the door. "I envied my best friend's talent and looks. No matter how hard I tried, I could never be as good as him and was overlooked."
Their voices grew louder, overlapping with one another as they began to unload their tales of bitterness and regret. I remained still, my eyes moving from person to person. I was not able to do anything but stand still and listen.
Each hollowed had their own respective stories of resentment and longing. The more they spoke, the more agitated they seemed to become. It was like opening a floodgate. Envious words poured out of them, each one holding onto the last remnants of what they had never gotten.
The air filled with their laments, shouts of twisted desires, and shattered hopes. Yet, in their confessions, there was something else. A desperate, clinging grasp on the humanity they had been stripped of.
Within it all, I saw an opportunity.
"It's not your fault!" I declared, making sure my voice, filled with faked empathy, was heard. "The trial is designed to break us, to make us envious, to make us suffer. But why should we take it? Why not fight back? You don't have to accept this fate."
One of the women who had spoken earlier stared down at the table, a spark of something more than despair glinting in her empty eyes. "Fight back…"
Another hollow followed almost immediately after. "Fight, yes, we should."
Then another began to murmur in agreement. One by one, their voices grew stronger, repeating the idea of fighting back.
"The promise of power. That's why we're all here, isn't it? Just where is that promised power? What has it brought us? Nothing! Nothing but pain, misery, and bad memories," I continued, feeding their growing anger. "You can end this! We can end it. But only if we act now can we make a difference and show the trial itself what it's done to us!"
The hollowed, once passive and lifeless, now seemed filled with a subtle determination. Still talking to themselves, they rose from their seats, their vacant stares flickering with purpose. I took a step back, watching them warily. Before I could react, the hollowed all rushed forward, startling me slightly.
Whoa! Already? Right now? I guess there's no better time than now. So easily swayed. I guess they're still mindless remnants of what they once were. I'm still not in the right state of mind but I can think well enough. If I don't act now I might very well thirst to death, and die for real.
I quickly slid open the door and began running as well, not wanting to get caught up in the masses of the irrational swarm. The hollowed followed behind me, their faces still emotionlessly still.
The hollow in the next carriage grew silent and stared at the many people squeezing through the door. Then one by one they too stood up and followed along.
We stormed through the carriages, the hollowed trailing behind me like a wave, crashing toward the front of the train like it would a shore. Their footsteps accented the gravity of the situation, each muffled thump bounced off the walls and made the train shake.
As we reached the ominous doorway, I, followed by the senseless throngs of hollowed, charged through. Our numbers increased as more joined from the other carriages, drawn by the commotion.
People squeezed their way through several at a time, entering the space where the endless darkness loomed. Many tripped over in the process but nevertheless, they pressed with their futile charge.
We continued to run, eventually reaching a lone mirror floating atop a sea of darkness. Beyond that lay a void, from which the shadow beings emerged one by one out of nothing. Since there's a shadow replica of me, I can assume all of the other replicas are for the passengers of the train.
The hollowed hesitated, their newfound determination faltering at the sight. But their anger, their desperation, drove them forward.
The dark beings watched as the hollowed charged at them, and then, the shadows descended upon them in return. The hollowed were immediately put in a daze, their shadowy counterpart scrambling their minds.
I stood at the edge of the chaos, watching as the hollowed were subjugated one after the other. Part of me recoiled at the sight, but another, larger part found solace in the idea that they were already dead, what more did they have to lose?
When the last of the hollowed had been found and silenced, I found myself standing alone, facing my indistinguishable self. It stood still, eyeing me with those glinting green eyes. Yet somehow, it seemed more human than I last remembered. There were certain accents to some features that made it look more like a person, more like me.
This was it. No more running. I had led them all here, but now I would have to face this myself. "Alright," I muttered, trying to fool myself to muster up some courage. "Let's finish this."
The shadow being's eyes, or what passed for them, glowed deeper with a greenish color. It began to leisurely advance toward me, whispers clouding my thoughts. I clenched my fists, the last remnants of my alcohol-induced self were fading away as reality crashed back in. Drunk or not drunk, I knew that this was it.
The dark replica of myself drew nearer with each step until we stood face-to-face. Its arms moved up fast, and before I knew it, dark hands were holding onto both sides of my head. The shadow held it, making sure our eyes were locked on each other.
I stared at its eyes as if entranced by them. However, I began to shiver, knowing full well that those green eyes stared me back, growing more intense by the second. It felt as though they were peering into the very depths of my soul, resurfacing emotions I long suppressed, memories I long wished I'd forget.
I tried looking away, tried closing my eyes, tried all sorts of things but it was all futile, I simply could not ignore myself. Memories of every humiliation, every time I was made to feel small and insignificant, flooded my mind, threatening to drown me in a sea of despair. Yet little did I know that within that sea lay the path to victory.
A series of images began to form in my mind painting an old memory. I was a young boy, sitting at the kitchen table. My mother sat across from me, tucking some strands of her short, wavy hair behind her ear. Her eyes were fixed down with purpose as she used different colors to scribble on the front page of a notebook.
After she was finished, she held it up for me to see, flashing me with a wide smile. "Look, Damien. It looks pretty right?"
She had decorated the front cover of a newly bought journal that I'd be using for school. At the time, I didn't match her excitement, merely not giving much thought to the appearance of my school supplies.
Fast forward a couple of days, Mom was gone and so was my brother and two sisters. I was left alone. Alone with that man.
I stared at the decorated notebook for a long time, taking in every detail. It was black in color, with a large moon drawn at the top accompanied by many distant stars. Beneath the sky was a field of grass with a lone tree standing at the very edge. My name was penned in a white space at the center, written in Mom's handwriting.
Something like this might seem very mundane but at the time it felt like my most treasured gift. A sheet of homework was laid next to it. I stared at it unsure of what to do. Anytime I didn't know how to solve a problem, Mom would be there to help.
Soon, I heard the door slam open followed by heavy, uneven footsteps. My heart sank. I quickly reached for my pencil and pretended to do something, anything.
A rugged and imposing figure appeared in the kitchen, reeking of alcohol. My father had long, unkempt hair and a stubbled face, giving him a rough, disheveled look. The moment his narrowed eyes landed on me, I knew it wasn't going to end well. He staggered over, glaring down at me like I was something he couldn't stand the sight of. Before I could react, his hand shot out, snatching my homework off the table.
"What's this supposed to be?" he spoke, voice dripping with contempt. He didn't wait for an answer and crumpled the paper in his fist, his scowl deepening. "You think this is gonna get you anywhere? You're just like your mother. Weak, useless… You'll never be anything more than a pain in my ass."
I tried to stay calm, tried to keep my hands from trembling, but the words cut deep. I bit down on my lip, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. I knew better than to cry in front of him. Crying would only make it worse.
He unclenched the paper which was now littered with wrinkles then slid it, along with my notebook, off the table aggressively before storming off someplace else.
I stayed there, frozen, staring at the decorated journal thrown on the floor. The sadness I felt was overwhelming, suffocating.
Why? Why am I the one to live this pitiful life? Mom. Why couldn't you take me with you? Why was I the one to get left behind? Is it true what he said? I'd ask myself every time that man threw a fit, and that was my most envious memory.
That was the day I realized that because of my condition, I was a burden. Too weak and dependent to be taken along. I envied others for being healthy. For having happy lives. I envied my own siblings, wishing that it were one of them who was left behind instead of me. Why? Because I'm weak and a coward, but that was back then. What's left of me now?
My mind snapped to the present as a different emotion began to boil due to this unwanted recollection. Anger. Raw, intense rage bubbled up from deep within me, fueled by the very memory my twisted counter part was trying to use against me.
I had spent so long running, avoiding the pain. Now, faced with this twisted reflection of myself, I realized I wasn't afraid anymore. I was angry.
Angry at the world for treating me like I was nothing. Envious of everything and everyone. Angry at myself for believing it. Angry at this shadow for trying to break me when all I wanted was to survive, to fight back.
I could feel the anger spreading, filling every corner of my mind, overpowering the whispers, the fear. My fists clenched tighter, my jaw set, and I met the shadow's gaze head-on. The greenish glow of its eyes flared, but this time, it didn't feel like it was overwhelming me. It felt like it was challenging me.
"You think… You can break… Me?" I hissed through gritted teeth, my voice low, projecting my overwhelming emotions. "You think you can take me down with old wounds? With the past? Ha! If that's your only strategy then you've already lost. No matter what memory you throw at me, I've already lived it. What emotions you resurface within me, I've already felt them."
The shadow's grip faltered, if only for a moment.
"I refuse to remain a weak kid any longer!" I shouted, my voice rising with the force of my rage. "I… refuse to be the same person who let the world trample over him! You can't control me, not anymore, and you sure as hell can't stop me!"
With a sudden burst of strength, I shoved the shadow back, tearing myself free from its grasp. It staggered back a few steps, then steadied itself, its form beginning to shift, morphing slightly as it moved forward once more.
"You're just a twisted reflection of what I used to be." I took a step forward. "But I'm stronger now. Stronger because I know what I want. I want to make them all pay," I paused, my voice softening and anger subsiding. "And for that, I need you."
As I said those words, the shadow stopped its advance. Instead of becoming less corporeal as I thought it would. Its form began to take shape. Certain outlines on its face began to shift in place as a fiery mass of darkness began to stretch and thin into strands of hair. The greenish glow in its eyes dimmed to resemble a more human gaze.
It began to look more and more like me by the second. Its eyes, now resembling my own, stared back at me with an expression I recognized all too well, pain, anger, fear.
At that moment, I saw the truth. This shadow wasn't just a twisted version of myself. It was a part of me, the part I had buried deep inside, trying to forget. But I couldn't fight it, not if I wanted to survive. I needed to embrace it and accept certain aspects of myself in order to be able to move forward.
The shadow, now basically a perfect replica of me stared back, its expression softening. For a moment, we just stood there, staring at one another. Then, slowly, the shadow began to dissolve into nothingness. The whispers that had once clouded my thoughts faded into silence, replaced by a sense of calm I hadn't felt in years.
The path forward was clear, and I knew exactly what I needed to do. It was time to take control, to seize the power I'd been denied of for so long, and to make those who had wronged me pay for everything they'd done. No one was going to stop me.
Scattered some distance away, were the hollowed, still subdued by their shadowy counterpart. I looked elsewhere wondering what I was supposed to do now. However, as I turned around, I came to a stop. In front of me stood a familiar mirror with a decorative statue of a snake staring ominously down at me.
I stared at the mirror, my reflection no longer mocking me but merely mimicking my every movement. I moved my arm, making sure I was right and that no evil reflections would come to haunt me.
I noticed something shifted through the corner of my eye and settled my attention on the side of the mirror, where the body of the snake was tightly coiled around the supporting pillar.
Did it just move?
My thoughts shut off as a hissing sound reached my ears. My eyes widened and my head snapped up instinctively to the source of the noise. Before I could react, the snake launched itself at me with the sudden force of a tightly wound spring uncoiling, its mouth wide open and teeth bared.
I stood frozen, unable to retaliate in time. The snake struck me right on the side of my neck, its fangs digging themselves deep into my skin. I let out a startling groan, my nerves beginning to get overwhelmed by pain, causing that groan to turn into a cry of distress.
I grabbed the snake by the back of the head and tried prying it off but to no avail, it wouldn't budge. It didn't help that the dammned thing was wrapped around my torso so tightly that it limited my attempts to a large degree.
I felt a cold sweat trickle down my face and I fell to my knees, giving up on snatching the snake off my neck as my strength gave out. I let out heavy, raspy breaths, trying to not lose consciousness.
Finally, at the moment when I felt I couldn't take anymore, the snake's body loosened allowing me to breathe easier. With a swift movement, it snapped its fangs out of my neck, causing a short yelp to escape from my lips, and slither away.
I quickly brought a hand up and placed it over the area where I'd been bit, hoping to ease the pain. A pain so sharp that even the slightest movement of my neck could trigger it. I slowly moved my head up and caught a faint glimpse of the slithering pest disappearing into the darkness on the bottom corner of the mirror.
My attention didn't linger for too long on the animal though, as I was captivated by my own reflection. I still looked the same but there was something happening. My eyes were shimmering, shifting, flickering from their original ordinary color to that same shade of green that my shadow counterpart had.
I held my breath, feeling a sudden force overtake my entire being. All of a sudden I was launched forward straight into the mirror. However, instead of shattering the thin glassy surface panel, I fell through it.
From my perspective, it seemed as if I had fallen right in the middle of a giant deflating balloon. It looked as if everything I had come to know about reality was unfolding before me.