Darkside

DK 3

Entering the room, Ava was very taken aback because the room was… hers. Exactly hers. Down to the faded blue blanket from her bed, the dent in her old pillow, the sketch taped above her desk, even the framed pictures on her side table were there. The only difference was that everything glowed faintly, as though copied from memory and painted with light.

Ava’s breath hitched. This wasn’t a room. It was a reconstruction.

She stepped inside slowly, her shoes clicking against the too-perfect floorboards. The desk lamp flickered to life on its own, casting a glow that was just a shade too white, like hospital lighting pretending to be warm.

She ran her fingers across the desk. It felt solid, cool—real. But when she tapped her nail against the wood, the sound echoed flat, like tapping glass.

“Do you like it?” Talia asked from the doorway, her smile bright as ever.

Ava turned sharply. “This is my room. My real room. How could you—” She swallowed, her voice breaking. “How could you know these details?”

“The system,” Talia said simply, as if it explained everything. “It rebuilds what makes you feel… safe. Comfort zones ease the transition.”

“Safe?” Ava muttered, staring at the glowing walls. “It feels like someone crawled into my memories and set up camp.”

Talia only shrugged, stepping further in. “Close enough. But hey, at least you’ve got something familiar to see.”

“Well, I guess so,” Ava muttered, her tone flat, far from enthusiastic.

She sat gingerly on the edge of her glowing bed, the mattress dipping exactly like her real one back home. Too exactly. The familiarity, instead of comforting her, scraped against her nerves. It felt wrong—like a memory wearing a mask.

“You’ll adjust,” Talia said breezily, drifting around the room as though inspecting it for approval.

" I know this isn't the real thing, but it's something," Talia said again trying to assure Ava.

"Yeah, "Ava said half-heartedly, not really focusing on what Talia was saying.

Talia, noticing Ava's distraction, said, "Though your room is the same, you still need to get new clothes."

"What about my old clothes?" Ava asked, confused.

"Well, the dressing style in the darkside isn't exactly the same as that of the living," Talia said.

"Elaborate," Ava said, asking for clarification.

“We wear only white—be it gowns, shorts, jeans—anything, it has to be white,” Talia explained, gesturing at her own glowing dress.

Ava blinked. “That’s… creepy. Like a cult uniform.”

Talia laughed lightly, as if Ava had just said something adorably naïve. “Not a cult, just… regulations. White reflects light, keeps the darkness from sticking to you. Trust me, you don’t want the alternative.”

“The alternative?” Ava pressed, narrowing her eyes.

For the first time, Talia’s smile wavered. “Colors absorb too much here. And sometimes… they don’t give it back.”

A chill crawled down Ava’s spine. She wanted to push for more, but the way Talia’s glow dimmed slightly told her she wouldn’t get a straight answer now.

“So, what—you’re taking me shopping?” Ava asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Exactly!” Talia beamed, already tugging her toward the door again. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fun. Think of it as your welcome-to-the-Darkside makeover.”

####

“Welcome to the Eterna Mall,” Talia announced with a sweep of her arm.

Ava’s mouth fell open. The place stretched endlessly in both directions, its white-tiled floors gleaming under a sky that wasn’t a ceiling at all but an endless expanse of pale light. Escalators glided upward into nothingness, vanishing into the glow, while shop windows lined the halls—displays filled with mannequins dressed in all-white outfits, each one standing a little too still, their heads tilted as if they were watching.

“It’s… massive,” Ava breathed.” Welcome to the Eterna Mall,” Talia announced with a sweep of her arm.

Ava’s mouth fell open. The place stretched endlessly in both directions, its white-tiled floors gleaming under a sky that wasn’t a ceiling at all but an endless expanse of pale light. Escalators glided upward into nothingness, vanishing into the glow, while shop windows lined the halls—displays filled with mannequins dressed in all-white outfits, each one standing a little too still, their heads tilted as if they were watching.

“It’s… massive,” Ava breathed.

“Of course it is,” Talia said cheerfully, as though they were at a perfectly normal suburban mall. “Half the Darkside passes through here eventually. Clothes, food, coffee, a little bit of existential dread—it’s got everything.”“Of course it is,” Talia said cheerfully, as though they were at a perfectly normal suburban mall. “Half the Darkside passes through here eventually. Clothes, food, coffee, a little bit of existential dread—it’s got everything.”

Ava shivered as a whisper skittered across her ear. She spun, but there was no one behind her. Just another row of mannequins, their glowing glass eyes locked on her.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to turn back. You’re just being paranoid, she told herself. They’re mannequins. That’s all.

Deciding not to make a scene, she tucked her arms across her chest and focused on Talia, who was already tugging her toward a shop with bold silver letters reading White Wardrobe.

“Rule number one of surviving the Darkside,” Talia declared, holding the glass door open with an exaggerated bow. “Never trust the shadows. Rule number two: always look fabulous.”

Ava sighed, stepping inside. The store was filled with racks of glowing-white clothing, neatly organized like a heavenly version of H&M. Everything shimmered faintly as though woven from light instead of fabric.

“You’ve got options,” Talia said, rifling through a rack. “Do you want to be mysterious white-robe Ava? Casual jeans-and-tee white Ava? Or…” she pulled out a dazzling sequin gown that glowed almost blindingly, “…disco-ball-of-the-dead Ava?”

Ava raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure I’m not haunting a nightclub.”

Talia pouted dramatically. “Pity. You’d pull it off.”

Despite herself, Ava gave a small laugh. It felt strange—laughing while being dead-ish—but it loosened something heavy in her chest.

As they went on with their shopping, they stopped at different stores—clothes, shoes, accessories, even a shop that seemed to sell nothing but glowing umbrellas. By the time they were done, Ava’s arms were weighed down with bags that hummed faintly, like they were alive.

When it came time to check out, Talia nudged her forward. “Go on, newbie. Flash the mark.”

Ava frowned. “You mean my registration tattoo?”

“Not a tattoo,” Talia corrected. “More like… a personal barcode.”

Ava rolled her eyes but held up her wrist. The faint mark shimmered against the panel, and instantly the screen lit up with her name. A soft chime echoed, followed by a cheerful voice:

“Payment complete. Thank you for your soul contribution.”

Ava froze. “My what?”

Talia laughed, waving it off. “Don’t worry, it’s just a phrase. Like how credit cards say ‘approved.’ Nobody’s actually taking your soul. Yet.”

Ava narrowed her eyes. “Yet?”

But Talia was already pushing her toward the exit, balancing her own armful of glowing bags. “Come on. Time to test out your new wardrobe. You’ll fit right in before you know it.”

Just as they were about to leave, Ava and Talia heard a commotion near the food court. The cheerful hum of chatter gave way to gasps and hurried whispers.

They turned—and saw the crowd parting.

Two men in stark white combat uniforms were dragging someone through the center of the plaza. The captive was dressed head-to-toe in black, his clothes a jarring contrast against the glowing world around him. His wrists shimmered with glowing restraints, and yet he didn’t struggle. He walked with a slow, deliberate calm, like he wanted every eye in the mall to see him.

As they passed, Ava froze. The man’s head lifted, and his gaze locked onto hers.

It wasn’t a casual glance. It was sharp, searing—like a hand reaching straight through her chest. His eyes were dark, bottomless, and in that instant Ava felt as if he knew her, as if he’d been waiting for her all along.

She staggered back, her bags slipping from her hands.

Talia quickly stepped in front of her, blocking the man’s stare. Her cheerful glow dimmed, her voice clipped. “Don’t look at him. Keep walking.”

Ava’s heart thudded in her ears. “Who—who is he?”

Talia’s jaw tightened, her brightness now replaced by a sharp edge Ava had never seen before.

“Trouble,” she said flatly. “The kind you don’t want noticing you.”