There was no light. No noise. Nothing. All there was a perfectly peaceful silence encased in darkness and Kid felt like he was floating. Emotions gone along with all his worries. His fears. He was at peace in this space of his mind. It seemed an age of thoughtlessness before Kid noticed the figure in the darkness, they gave off the same strange glow just like that silver ball in the room.
"Hello," Kid called out.
"Hello indeed," the figure called half turning.
Kid's eyes opened wide as the figure turned to face him. He was staring back at himself, but wasn't himself. The version of himself that he was looking at had a much more serious face, all the lines of Sanzu were connected giving the other Kid the perfectly symmetrical appearance. But the final and most noticeable was the grey/black eyes the other Kid had. Empty, bottomless, black orbs of unforgiving that seemed to search into every inch of the Shinigami's soul. There was something off about him, something dangerous.
"Did you not expect to see me," the other Kid asked his voice teasing.
"What are you," Kid asked.
"Isn't it obvious Kiddo-kun, I'm you," other Kid remarked.
"No, you can't be me," Kid spat in disbelief.
Other Kid laughed, a nerve snapping laugh that seemed to echo through the empty darkness and sent chills down Kid's spine.
"I am you but more what you could be," Other Kid laughed again.
"I could never be an abomination like you," Kid swore.
The closer Kid looked to his counter part the more he realised that there were far more differences than when he first looked. Other than the black, soulless eyes, there were more differences. The suit the other Kid was wearing was less black, more grey, the pearly white rectangles were off balance on either side and his hair was more greying than a midnight black. His head hung slightly limply to one side. He was wrong, horrible in Kid's eyes. How could he ever say he was a part of him.
"You're afraid," other Kid said suddenly "afraid to be imperfect. But you're also afraid to be alone, unable to defend yourself without a shield."
Kid's vision flashed red and images of blood ran through his eyes. Pictures of those closest to him. Dead upon the ground, flesh torn from the faces, their eyes blacked out, blood spreading, seeping closer. Each one of them empty, void of life and humanity.
"You're sick. Evil!" Kid yelled suddenly shaking himself free of the twisted images that threatened to evade his vision, lurking on the edges of his unconscious mind.
"I'm evil!" the other Kid laughed "I'm a part of you remember, all I am is a part of you."
"Me! You'll never be me," Kid stated furiously.
"But I am Kiddo-Kun, I am you," the other Kid jeered "all you are is just another speck on society, an asymmetrical piece of dirt."
Kid's eyes opened to their widest and then narrowed, other Kid was grinning a sick and twisted grin.
"Take a look at yourself Kiddo-kun, you're wrong, twisted," Other Kid stated with a sick grin.
Kid was shaking in the darkness that was creeping into his vision, more images of people he knew and cared about, dying, dead, walking away, laughing, jeering, point. All of them directed towards him. He was alone, encased in a world of darkness, fear, imperfections. Kid clutched his head trying to break free of the images that were setting him up for a fall, a decent into madness, darkness. A place with no return, a place only he could find a way out of. That place on the edge of his brain, the darkness, with only him and his simple imperfections.
"You're wrong," Kid interrupted other Kid's laughter "you're the sick one, the twisted one."
"Is that so," Other Kid warned his face becoming dark.
"Yes, I might be perfect, but I will be. I will be and you are nothing. Not me, not a part of me," Kid said testily.
The cry pierced the air and Kid was sent backwards, his vision filled with blood, blackness, evil souls. A world that descended into chaos. Filled with the impurity that caused hatred, betrayal and the ever lying evil madness. Kid fought these images with every inch of his mind, he felt as though his body was being wrapped in thousands and thousands of tight black bandages, his chest became tight. He could hear them, the voices. People. Laughing at his imperfections, his fate.
"You're wrong Kiddo-kun, all you'll ever be is wrong. Time to write your epitaph kiddo, you're going to need it," other Kid's voice sailed through.
Kid was trying to free himself of the binds that were tying him to the madness that was holding him hostage, he imperfect, unbalanced. Asymmetrical rubbish. Not good enough for the world. Then he was engulfed in the darkness.