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Chapter Text

The far too familiar thunder of Wuthering Heights rumbled in the distance as Heathcliff’s boots hit the ground. Descending from Dullahan, he stared up at the manor that gave his life purpose, and grinned.

“Should be the standard fare, eh Dullahan?” Heathcliff spoke to the hound, while analyzing the form Wuthering Heights had taken in this Mirror World. This manor was the most common one, the standard Wuthering Heights that he himself was raised in. It would almost always have a Heathcliff, a Cathy, a Hindley, and so forth.

Oftentimes, the Mirror Heathcliff would not be there, but his Wild Hunt was always able to track him down in the end. This time though, like many times, his target was currently near Wuthering Heights. There were a few reasons for this that Heathcliff had come across, but by far the most prominent was for Cathy’s funeral, which still pained Heathcliff even after all the other Heathcliffs he had killed.

Dullahan dematerialised back into the smoke of his Wild Hunt, and Heathcliff trudged forward on foot. He stowed the Dead Rabbits mask he carried in a satchel on his hip, for he wouldn’t need it for this. He’d slain so many Heathcliffs in a similar manner, in a similar manor, that the need for subtlety was completely gone. Heathcliff would walk in, slay this Heathcliff, then ride onto the next.

The iron gate that bordered the property was no barrier at all to his entry, and as he pushed it open, he pondered how many times he’d opened that specific gate in his life. Not all Wuthering Heights had a gate like that, some didn’t even have a gate at all. Some Wuthering Heights were not even ‘Wuthering Heights’.

It was hard for him to understand at first, but every Mirror World he found himself in had a Heathcliff, even if they were not ‘Heathcliff’. He had once found a Mirror World where Cathy was Heathcliff, and Heathcliff was Cathy. It pained him to end her, but she too had committed the same sin as all Heathcliffs had, so she had to die. The way that Heathcliff understood it was that she was not a ‘Cathy’, but a ‘Heathcliff’ named Cathy.

Mirror Worlds were quite confusing.

Of course, when there was no one called Heathcliff at all, the lightning that surrounded Wuthering Heights registered him as an intruder, so he was always slightly cautious about walking straight in. As was wise, he first ordered a Hindley of the Wild Hunt to walk in first. The ghastly man stumbled forward, yet was not struck down. While it was a shame not to see Hindley obliterated, it did make his life easier not having to tunnel underground again.

Heathcliff banged on the manor’s door, lightning striking in the distance with each knock of his hand against the hard wood.

Soon enough, the door opened, and his caretaker’s familiar face greeted him on the other side.

“Heathcliff?” Nelly looked him up and down. “You’ve… certainly changed, haven’t you? Why, it’s been so long! Come in, please, come in!”

Nelly ushered him in, and Heathcliff grinned at the welcome. Not because he felt anything for the woman’s kindness, but rather because it meant that he had arrived here before this Mirror World’s Heathcliff had.

“The journey hasn’t been too hard on you, has it? You look positively exhausted, Heathcliff…” Nelly frowned, getting a better view of his state and his apparel once he was inside the manor.

“I am as I am.” Heathcliff bluntly responded. The Wild Hunt left no time for self-care.

“Oh, but I do like your new hairstyle. The length suits you.” Nelly said, offering a compliment.

It was hard to tell whether she was being genuine, as Heathcliff was aware of her more… treacherous tendencies. In many mirror worlds, she had assisted him on his Wild Hunt, and in return, Nellies were rarely ever slain by his hand.

Nelly paused for a second, as if she remembered something crucial.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Nelly said, apologetically. “You’re here to mourn, aren’t you? I understand that you’re not in a talkative mood. But please, feel free to come back and talk after the funeral. I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to all these years.”

Heathcliff wouldn’t be doing that, but she didn’t have to know that.

“I wish to see the coffin, with my own eyes. Where must I tread?” Heathcliff said, using a well-rehearsed line. A reliable way of getting past a Nelly’s usual badgering.

“Oh, um, the service will start in a few minutes. The others are already out back. I know you don’t like them, but try not to start a fight, Heathcliff, please. For Him.”

Him?

Ah, not such an usual case. But not entirely unusual. It wasn’t particularly common, but sometimes ‘Cathy’ was a man, and sometimes ‘Heathcliff’ was a woman. Same-sex Heathcliff/Cathy situations were not something that Heathcliff was unfamiliar with.

He himself was only interested in women, or rather, one woman, but he knew other Heathcliffs’ interests could be different. He had a memorable run in with one Heathcliff with a male lover, who had survived his Wild Hunt with the help of vigorous bullet fire. He’d given up that chase, for it wasn’t worth being shot at by a Heathcliff who probably wasn’t into Cathy anyway.

In this particular Mirror World that he was currently in, both Heathcliff and Cathy must have been men, for Nelly was not truly surprised at his appearance. He had once met one Nelly who believed that he was the Heathcliff of that Mirror World, even though that Heathcliff was a woman and he a man. It was strange, Nelly was saying things like how ‘she always knew’ and that she was ‘glad he had accepted himself.’

That had made him quite uncomfortable so he’d left that Mirror World rather quickly.

Heathcliff stirred from his thoughts and began to walk towards where Nelly had promised Cathy’s funeral would be. Though her gender was changed, the situation remained the same. He would wait for this world’s Heathcliff to arrive, mock him for missing Cathy’s funeral, and then slay him. A series of steps engraved in his muscle memory by now.

He could slay Heathcliffs with his eyes closed. Most Heathcliffs, anyway. Some were troublesome, but he had yet to meet a stronger Heathcliff than himself. He wasn’t so overconfident to believe that he was the apex of all Heathcliffs, but he was certain that his Wild Hunt could stall long enough for him to escape should he be outmatched.

The gathering of people was as expected. A variety of butlers and maids, headed by Josephine. Linton, and his own butlers by his side. Cathy, next to-

Wait, Cathy?

Heathcliff’s eyes went wide as he stared her down. She appeared somewhat unkempt, clearly a sign of her mistreatment by this world’s Heathcliff, yet she was still alive!

“Cathy!” Heathcliff called out, rushing towards her.

“Ugh, that mangy mutt is here.” Cathy spat. “I don’t want to look at you. Butlers, block him from my view.”

And so Heathcliff’s hopes were dashed.

This was no Cathy. This was a ‘Hindley’, wearing Cathy’s skin.

Heathcliff growled, but didn’t bite back, for any insult to Cathy’s appearance was unthinkable to him, even if it was really Hindley underneath.

It hadn’t taken this form before, but Heathcliff had seen a few swaps like this. One was as simple as Heathcliff and Cathy, another was as pointless as Nelly and Josephine, while the swap of Linton and Hindley was rather amusing.

Something jarred in Heathcliff’s head though. If Cathy was alive… then who was in the coffin?

As if on cue, Nelly arrived, and the crowd’s bickering and murmuring quieted down. The head butler walked next to the wooden coffin laying in the grass, and placed a single hand on it, before turning to address the gathering, speaking solemnly.

“We are gathered here to mourn the passing, and to celebrate the life of… Master Hindley Earnshaw.”

Heathcliff’s eye twitched with annoyance, and out of the corner of his sight, he saw Linton burst into tears, the pathetic man.

Heathcliff scoffed, which seemed to catch Nelly’s attention. She took a moment to stride over to him, and spoke softly.

“I know you don’t want to look weak in front of Catherine, but you should allow yourself to mourn for Hindley… you two were rather close, weren’t you?”

Heathcliff’s hand clenched, and he felt his patience finally snap.

“Hindley!!!”

A voice cried out from across the garden. His voice. The crowd’s heads all turned towards the intruder. Heathcliff.

Then they turned back to him. Also Heathcliff.

“It seems the time is nigh.” Heathcliff spoke. The energy of the Wild Hunt surrounded him, and coalesced into a shimmering red blade.

The crowd of butlers watched on in confusion, as Heathcliff strode towards his mirror self.

“You, who have murdered Cath-, ugh, Hindley, shall pay for your sins.”

“Who the bloody hell are you!?” Mirror Heathcliff shouted, swinging a telegraphed fist which Heathcliff caught with ease.

“I’m you. And we both share the same sin. We murdered her. I mean, him. No, wait…”

Mirror Heathcliff’s fury was stifled by his own befuddlement, and he yelled out in frustration.

“What in the wings are you going on about, you git?”

“You killed Hindley, and I killed Cathy, but my Cathy, is your Hindley, and your Cathy is my Hindley, so in essence you killed Cathy, which means you must…. repent with your life. Understand?”

“No!?” said Mirror Heathcliff, who swung his other fist straight into Heathcliff’s face. He allowed it to connect, and showed no reaction to the blow.

“Which one is the real Heathcliff…?” Nelly said, confused, speaking to no one in particular. In her many years of working, she hadn’t seen something like this before.

“I am the intruder.” Heathcliff spoke, summoning Dullahan and mounting it in a fluid motion. He pointed his sword down at Mirror Heathcliff. “You must suffer for your crime of killing… Hindley.”

His delivery was half-hearted. Even though he knew that Hindley was ‘Cathy’ in this Mirror World, he could never mourn for Hindley.

“I didn’t kill him, you bastard! I loved him!” Mirror Heathcliff cried out, perhaps admitting it to himself for the first time, too. “I don’t know who you are, or why you’re pretending to be me, but if you don’t fuck off right this second, I’ll beat the living shit out of you, you hear me!?”

It would be so easy, so agonisingly easy, to swing his blade and end this Heathcliff in a second. He’d done it before, hundreds of times.

“Stupid brat died from all the booze he was drinking anyway.” Hindley-Cathy mocked, her usually beautiful face twisted into something cruel and unnatural. “Don’t know why there are two Heathcliffs, but fucking hell their stench is pissing me off. Nelly, deal with it.”

Before Nelly could act, Heathcliff made up his mind. This Mirror World was unnatural, and he didn’t want to think about it anymore.

“Put an end to your own miserable existence and save me the trouble.” Heathcliff growled at his mirror self, before spurring on Dullahan to ride into the distance.

As he left the incredibly confused funeralgoers behind, Heathcliff noticed something in the trees. An engraving, worn with age.

HC <3 HE

Heathcliff’s brow furrowed with wrath, and he split open another Mirror Rift with a swing of his sword, destroying said tree, completely and totally by coincidence.

He rode into the next Mirror World, and hoped it would be more normal than the last.

Chapter Text

This Mirror World was not normal.

It was very easy for Heathcliff to come to that conclusion, given the currently burning Wuthering Heights he was staring up at.

There was no time for theatrics, so he simply rode Dullahan towards the flames. Galloping along the path to the manner, he noticed corpses strewn along the road. Some were obviously Wuthering Heights’ butlers, while others were men and women wearing strange clothes and gold chains.

Dullahan skidded to a halt as Heathcliff approached the gate to the manor. There was no time to test the lightning, so he once again spurred Dullahan on, and he was thankfully not struck down by the defenses.

Closer to the manor’s front door, Heathcliff spotted two figures locked in combat. Nelly’s combat style was immediately recognisable to him, and the other combatant, on closer inspection, was himself.

This version of him wore a garish purple outfit, adorned with glowing tattoos and golden chains from head to toe. The Middle, obviously. This wasn’t the first Mirror Heathcliff to join them, but he’d never seen a Heathcliff accrue enough standing with them to order an attack on Wuthering Heights.

Astride Dullahan, Heathcliff charged towards his mirror self, and brought his blade down on his target before his presence could be registered.

Both Nelly and Mirror Heathcliff looked shocked at the sudden intrusion to their fight, but to their credit, they adjusted quickly enough. Mirror Heathcliff took a glancing cut from the blade and counterattacked, knocking Heathcliff off of Dullahan, sending it back to the Wild Hunt.

Heathcliff stood side by side with Nelly, making it clear which side he was on. Nelly looked him up and down with confusion, but she turned back to her original foe, emboldened by her sudden ally.

Mirror Heathcliff laughed, and used the pause in battle to open up his Book of Vengeance. “Heh, Title 22, Section 1, Row B… impersonation of a member of the Middle using unknown means. Punishment: beaten until unrecognisable, then torn in half.” Mirror Heathcliff snapped the book shut, and began to glow purple with energy. “Got some more vengeance to do, so don’t be a bore and make this easy!”

His lunge was incredibly fast, only allowing Heathcliff a split-second to block before Middle Heathcliff’s punch impacted him head on. His sword withstood the blow, and instead of physically countering, Heathcliff called upon the Wild Hunt to attack for him, shadows of Linton and Hindley striking Middle Heathcliff in the back before dissolving.

The Mirror Heathcliff gritted his teeth, and wound up another punch, Heathcliff stepped backward, raising his sword to block again, though he was unsure if he could deflect at this range.

He didn’t have to though, as from an unseen angle, Nelly’s binding technique wrapped around Mirror Heathcliff’s arm and left his guard down. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Heathcliff swung his sword down, but the strike was blocked by his foe at the last second, and the two backpedaled away from each other, bringing the fight to a standstill again.

In times like this, against troublesome Heathcliffs, there was but one thing to do.

Shadow enveloped the battlefield as a legion of shadows and Peccatula crawled out of the abyssal darkness. Nelly shuddered at the sight of the familiar shades, while the Mirror Heathcliff laughed. “I don’t even know what Section this would come under! Whoever you are, you’ve set some kind of record!”

Atop Dullahan again, Heathcliff levelled his sword at his mirror self. “It is not just I who must be punished for their sin. It is you, as well as it is every Heathcliff. We all must be punished for the crime of murdering our beloved Cathy. Don’t you see…? There are not enough books of vengeance in the world to fill with the weight of our sins!”

Nelly simply stared in awe as the Wild Hunt charged Mirror Heathcliff. The shades were all individually weak and unskilled, even the somewhat competent Josephine and bestial form of Hindley’s distortion were no match for the Heathcliff of the Middle, but with the endless tide of bodies, eventually the syndicate member was brought down low.

With their job done, the Wild Hunt dissolved, leaving Mirror Heathcliff’s bleeding out form laying down on the grass.

Heathcliff dismounted Dullahan, and walked to his mirror self’s side, speaking somberly.
“Know that I will mourn for you, and bury you, as I do for every Heathcliff. Do you have any final words?”

Mirror Heathcliff stared him down defiantly, and grinned. “Just four, you cunt… heh. The Middle never… forgets.”

Heathcliff raised his blade, but before he could bring it down, a knife flew into the middle member’s head, putting an end to his suffering instantly. Heathcliff turned around, to see Nelly kneeling on the floor, her hands filled with knives and her face twisted with wrath.

Upon inspection, Heathcliff noticed that she was heavily bruised and wounded, in bad enough shape that she would’ve lost the fight if he had not intervened.

“Haah… who are you?” Nelly asked, weakly, managing to get to her feet.

“I am a Heathcliff who understands the weight of his crime. A Heathcliff who must punish every Heathcliff for their horrible sin.”

He closed the distance between himself and Nelly, helping her get to her feet, then turning back to Mirror Heathcliff’s body.

“You can travel between worlds.” Nelly stated more than asked.

Heathcliff nodded, and turned away. He had to start digging a grave before he could leave. His sword could make do as a makeshift shovel, which saved him having to carry one.

“Take me with you.”

Heathcliff paused.

“The Middle… they never forget, right? If I stay in this world, I’ll never be safe for the rest of my life,” Nelly explained, desperately. “But if you can bring me to another world, I’ll be safe!”

“Hm…” Heathcliff considered this for a moment, but settled on an answer soon enough. “Very well. Dullahan can carry two.”

He had no reason to refuse, really. It’s not like it’d be any trouble for him. Nelly fell quiet after offering a weak thanks, and Heathcliff finished burying his mirror self soon after, as Wuthering Heights burned to ashes.

“It is done,” Heathcliff stated, calling upon Dullahan once again. “I am leaving. Do you truly wish to accompany me? My Wild Hunt is not pleasant.”

“I don’t have much of a choice,” Nelly answered. “So, yes. I’ll come with you.”

“Get on, then.” Heathcliff commanded, and Nelly hopped up onto the hound with surprising agility for someone so injured.

With a swing of his sword, Heathcliff tore upon another Mirror Rift, and Dullahan leapt through.

Now with a passenger in tow, he rode into the next Mirror World, and hoped it would be more normal than the last.