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Cheryl stares into the water. She doesn’t find her own reflection.
Alessa Gillespie stares back at her.
“But that is you.” Cheryl’s mind reprimands, causing a frown to curl on her lips. Not even in the Realm of the Entity was she safe from mirrors and their reflections. Even here, she would be reminded of the sorrow her life-- and the past one-- Cheryl was burdened with. Even here, she would be tormented with memories of Midwich, the Otherworld, and the sacrifices her father made to ensure her future.
But despite her pain, Cheryl didn’t feel alone.
Alessa’s reflection wasn’t an unfamiliar one. If anything, it was comforting. No matter how often the Entity’s shadowy tendrils found its ways into Cheryl’s broken limbs, her soul persevered; guarded. A shaky sigh escaped her and she brought an arm up to wipe away a few tears threatening to escape her moist eyes. The young veteran of terror cautiously glanced back down at the pond below her. Cheryl's heart sank.
Alessa’s image distorted, her face mushrooming with bloody cysts and gore enveloping her features. The liquid oozed out of her eyes like they would on the walls in Midwich, and Cheryl felt hot bile rising up in her stomach. Only when her reflection started sprouting hellish burn wounds did Cheryl back away from the water, hasty breaths escaping her. Her hands settled on her arms for comfort, slowly rubbing circles to try and rub away the feeling of bandages she was too familiar with.
“...Cheryl?” Felix emerged out of the treeline, causing the young veteran of terror to jump.
“Woah, sorry. Didn’t mean to spook you.” The older man stated softly, hands raised in a playful manner.
“It’s fine.” Cheryl stated hoarsely.
Realizing how much of a mess she probably looked like, Cheryl hastily wiped away the tears that had rolled down her cheeks in her panic. Not that it would hide how puffy and red her eyes had become. Swiftly regaining her composure, Cheryl finally looked up to glance at Felix. Cheryl’s brow furrowed.
Felix was wearing the most abhorrent christmas sweater she had seen in… what? A year? Two years? Time didn't make much sense in the Entity's realm and Cheryl wasn't quite sure how much time she had spent in this hellish place. On it sat a blue print resembling a formal business suit along with the usual ugly christmas sweater snowflakes. The sight of it made her visibly cringe, face scrunching up in amused disapproval.
“Are… you okay?” Felix questioned, stepping up to stand next to her.
“Y-Yeah. You know.” Cheryl tightened the grip on her arms instinctively. Don’t do that. He’s nice.
“Yeah, I do.” He responded as he eyed Cheryl over, prompting a raised brow from her. Cheryl broke into a smile.
“Whatever, Felix. Are you okay? You don’t look okay.” A snicker escaped her as she got to take a better look at the abomination of a sweater, squinting to inspect it carefully.
Felix let out a hearty chuckle and looked down at his own sweater. “Could be better. Kind of itchy, too. According to the Entity, it’s Christmas.” Felix held up a folded sweater he had been carrying in his hands. “Found this one in the pile. Figured it’d be yours, since it’s got that weird symbol from Midwich on it.”
Cheryl hadn’t noticed the item Felix had been carrying with him. In her defense, a Christmas sweater was the last thing she would expect in this horrible realm. Although, she had noticed the older survivors had an abnormally extensive wardrobe. Did the Entity get bored of their usual outfits?
“I don’t know if I should be grateful or insulted.”
Cheryl took the item from the other man’s hands. Pictured on front was the Seal of Metatron amidst festive imagery such as snowflakes and some prancing reindeers… to top the ugly thing off, the back featured an unsettling image of Robbie the Rabbit cheerfully showing his bloody grin. A distasteful expression spread across Cheryl’s face as she quickly folded the item back into a neat square.
“I’ll be back at the camp.” Felix stated, flashing a smile and extending a hand to gently pat Cheryl’s shoulder.
As Felix turned around to leave, Cheryl spoke up.
“Wait!” The architect stopped, peering over his shoulder. “Can you stay?”
Felix mumbled a short “alright” and sat down next to Cheryl, patting the ground next to him. The young veteran of terror followed suit and showed him a small, thankful smile. A comfortable silence soon enveloped the two survivors, nothing but the sound of baby birds and their respective breathing filling the air. After a few minutes, Cheryl broke the silence.
“You’re an architect, right?” Cheryl asked, staring at the folded square in her lap.
“Mhm. Well, not here at least. Why? Thinking of starting your own career?” Felix jested, a slight smirk on his face.
“Shut up.” Cheryl rolled her eyes, playfully punching Felix’s shoulder. Felix snickered.
Cheryl fell silent again. Her puffy red orbs glanced up at the pond in front of them, eyeing the fluorescent flora dimly lighting the area.
“Do you like working with mirrors?” Cheryl stated hesitantly, turning to look at the older man next to her.
“...mirrors?” Felix raised a brow at the question. The same brows subsequently furrowed, a habit that Cheryl knew meant the architect was deep in thought. After another few moments of silence, Felix speaks up.
“If I’m honest? No, not really. They give the illusion of space. Always feels like… there’s another world on the other side. Like the person that’s staring at you isn’t really yourself. Creepy as hell." Felix stops for a moment to look at the younger woman besides him. “Sorry, I think I’m rambling a little.”
Cheryl shakes her head, staring over the water. “No, I get it.”
“I feel the same way.”