((I feel the sameway sometimes, it's magical ))
Halls of Reflection
The shade laughed, mimicking Nemo with frightening clarity. "Who are you fooling with your bravado? Yourself? No, Nemo. Dirt we are, and dirt we will remain." It flew foward with startling agility, bounding to the platform. In his hand, the stilletto lunged foward, aiming for Nemo's throat. Nemo jumped back, flying off the platform. His hands reached into his pockets, but nothing was there. Without a weapon, victory would be nigh impossible. The platform he landed on swayed for a moment, but Nemo remained upright. His shade followed him quickly, alighting from the starting platform as quickly as his dagger missed home. Nemo pressed back on the platform, causing it to raise up into the air. The shade, held his arms outward to stop himself, but the wheels of momentum had already started rolling. Shock was written across the shades face.
It's body struck the center of the board, as his form dispersed. Nemo lowered the platform back down, looking about wildy. About him, the air felt cold and unatural The shade was gone, but not defeated. Looking into the distance, he spied a familiar weapon. The throwing discs used by Westwick for training laid on a rack, waiting for their master to come and throw them. Every weapon that Westwick used had the ability to kill if used well. These disks were no exception. If enough throwing power was used, it could easily slice through flesh just as easily if it were a true weapon.
There is my chance.
A shadow form began materializing on top of the starting platform. Nemo's eyes snapped into action, carving him a path. He leaped from platform to platform, hoping that the shade would not be faster. "Nemo, don't make this harder than it has to be! You don't need to know!" The shade spoke again, pleading now. Nemo's feet kept racing, struggling to remain moving as the platforms collapsed.
"Fine then... I'll end this the hard way." Footfalls rang out behind Nemo, thudding against the wood. He dared not look behind, for fear of a fatal mistep. The echoing sounds behind him grew stronger, and of greater repetition. It was closing in rapidly. Ahead, his goal was two platforms away. One more away. Then none.
His body rolled onto the platform, his legs exhausted from the physical test. Nemo forced himself foward grabbing the first disc he could find. A loose thread wrapped arround his hand. Turning, he threw the disc with all his might. The shade, ducked low while the disc went high whistling as it went. The foul shadow smiled, forcing Nemo to the wooden floor. "You are too weak to understand, I'm sorry for this Wendel." His blade went up, poised to kill. Nemo laughed almost manically, causing the shade's face to contort with rage. "Why are you laughing at your death?
Nemo smiled, a bit of sagely advice being recalled to life again. His lips moved slowly. These words he would never forget. "Tell me... Just what are you going to do with your life if you can't remember to watch your back?" The thread on his hand tightened, marking the moment of fruitation. He grasped the length of the thread, and pulled quickly, as the disc changed directions in the air, its pointed trajectory the shade. "**** it, you don't know what you're doing!" Dread spread across it's face. Rage spread across it's face next. "If I can't win, we'll both die!" The stilletto came down with terrible velocity. Nemo raised his hand in front of the blade, as the dagger found it's way into his fleshy palm. At the same instant, the discus' cutting edge sailed through the shade.
It shrieked for a moment, as it's form melted away into darkness. Despite it's decaying state, it continued to speak. "You don't.... understand... I'm protecting... you..." The dagger in Nemo's palm melted away, leaving only the wound to show of it's existence. He gripped his wound tightly, blood staining both of his hand.
"I hope you are ready Nemo. It has been a joy teaching you." Nemo looked up, shocked to see a shadowed form of Westwick. His finger was extended to the pit, but his back was turned away. "Your little friend needs you Nemo. I hope you haven't forgotten about him. You aren't the only one with inner demons. Everyone has something to hide." Westwick turned his face. A dark grin spread out on his face. His eyes were dark and hollow. Chuckling, his form melted away, as sounds from the pit grew louder.