A/N:: I've only watched the English Anime, so I'll be using all of the English terms. Of course, I don't own Soul Eater blah, blah, blah. Written with two of my OCs as main characters, although that will change at a certain point. Expect to see SE characters later on in the story, but I wanted to develop my OCs without them in the beginning.

Summary:: Falling into a different world is hard enough, but as she becomes completely captivated with her new surroundings, she finds an awesome partner to help her out. Things seem to be going swimmingly as the collect Kishin eggs, but all of that changes when they face their Witch. Takes place before the rise of Asura as the Kishin. And yes, my OC comes from our world, I don't know if that ever fully gets explained...

I Can't Hate My Shadows

Chapter One

New Reflections

My chains scraped across each other and the sharp clanging sound echoed off the stonewalls that surrounded me as I changed the position of my arms. Although I had not threatened the academy in any way, I had gotten myself imprisoned out of choice. Due to the Kishin's rising power, I was becoming more and more of a hazard. Bestial instincts were firmly rooted in insanity and made me easily susceptible to the presence of the Kishin's madness.

Laying my head down on my arms, I was forced to gaze upon the only decoration in the room. A mirror. I gave a small huff of disgust and closed my eyes. I hated mirrors. Of course the mirror was only there in case Lord Death felt the need to check in on me. Which, so far, he had not done. Not that I really expected him to. He was probably trying to discover a way to fight Asura. So I didn't really hold anything against him. I only hated mirrors because they're the reason my life had begun to get this crazy and depressing. Although, arguably, had my previous life really been any better than it was now?

Oh well, no dwelling in on the past. I'd sworn myself to that when all of this began. The hand that I had been given were the ones I held and I would deal with that as my life changed. Moaning and groaning over things done and lost was a lame thing to do.

Remembering my past, however, was a different matter. No matter what happened, my memories were still there and they were part of who I am. Besides, what else did I have to think about in this cell of mine? The story is a bit of a long one. I'm sure you don't mind though.

Anyway, as I've said, it all started with a mirror. Or several, I suppose.

An infinite amount of my own reflections surrounded me. The solid black ceiling and floor made me feel like I was standing in empty space or at least some horrible realm of my own imagination. They weren't even good quality mirrors. Vast amounts of imperfections marred my other selves. Scratches, blurs, and slight to major warping mutated my features into unrecognizable mush.

"This house of mirrors really sucks," I muttered under my breath.

Despite my negative comment, however, I was sure I liked it to a certain point. A mirror house is made to disorient and it definitely had done that part of its job rather well. I gave a small frown and looked at the edges of the mirrors, looking for my exit route out of this stupid room. Usually I could find one that didn't look quite right, but for some reason, none of the ones I looked at seemed to have anything wrong.

I turned around to try and go back the way I came from, but I held out my hand and realized that there was a mirror there and my own tormented reflection looked back at me. Surprised, I backed away from the mirror and snapped my head around rapidly trying to make sense of my directions. What was going on? I could feel drips of adrenaline begin to let loose into my system.

Keeping my eyes open, I took in deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. There's no need to freak out, just walk around the perimeter and tap each of the mirrors. Simple. With a plan, I felt more sure of myself and began to make my way around.

However, a certain mirror stopped me in my tracks. There was something different about this one, but… what was it? Peering at my reflection, it quickly became apparent. This one held no blemishes. No scratches, no blurs and no warping. It's weird that the perfect mirror would seem to be the odd one out.

After staring at all of the deformed versions of me, it felt nice to see what I really looked like. In fact, it felt almost reassuring. I felt reassured that I was indeed, not a freak. My wavy dark brown, almost black hair reached a few inches past my shoulders. With my grey jacket on, it hid my fit body because it was a size too big, but I liked it that way because my arms were pretty long and I liked to tuck my hands into my sleeves. My brown-green eyes (Not hazel, thank you. The green and brown parts seemed to have somehow separated themselves, green around the outside and brown crowding my pupils) looked back at me in amusement as if my reflection were laughing at my insecurities. Once again, I couldn't help but think of myself as being monochromatic because my skin was well tanned, going perhaps a shade darker than olive.

For seemingly no reason at all, I reached out towards it, but then stopped an inch away from its surface. For exactly the same reason I reached toward it, I held myself back from it. Why was I holding myself back? It was just a mirror, wasn't it?

As if to prove it to myself, I quickly reached out to tap its surface. Seemingly at the same exact moment, ripples crossed its surface. I didn't have time to pull myself away and my finger passed through the mirror. 'Oooh, poodle toss.' Not feeling anything to push against I began to feel unbalanced. I flailed to try and regain equilibrium, but managed to do the opposite and fell head first into the apparently 'not-really-there' mirror.

Arms up to protect my head and not land on my face, I gave a whumpf as I hit the ground. Dazed, I rolled over and took in my surroundings. Which were exactly the same as before. Add in even more confusion to my off-kilter brain. "Uuuh," I simply droned as there was pretty much nothing going through my brain at the moment.

Seriously, what was going on? Had passing through that mirror really happened? Or was that just some crazy trick from this crazy house of mirrors. I sat up and glanced at each of my reflections as if the hideous imitations could give me an answer. A bit freaked out and still dazed, I got up and steadily made my way out of that supposed 'fun house'. The exit had turned out to be quite obvious, and I wondered how I hadn't seen it earlier.

Either way, I was out now and I gave a stretch to rid myself of that whole disturbing experience in that house of mirrors. I blinked slowly and deliberately when I realized that it was dark out. Of course, 'dark' didn't really mean much because I was in Las Vegas and all of the buildings were lit up and people were roaming the streets.

Rubbing my eyes and glaring at my surroundings, I wondered just how long I'd been stuck inside with the mirrors. Why hadn't my parents called me? I was only 13 for godsake's! Who in their right mind would even think to let their kid walk around at night in Las Vegas? Of course, those were my parents for you. They took care of me well enough in the material way, but as for my emotional and social ways, I was on my own. But still, this was very bad parenting.

Reaching into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone and was preparing to call them up and ask them where they were, but bugged out when I saw that I had zero bars. No service? In Las Vegas? Maybe… maybe the cell phone company was having maintenance. Yeah, that could be it.

Obviously not convinced of that terrible explanation, I still allowed it to swaddle me and at least pretend that things were normal. I knew where my parents had booked a hotel, anyway. Getting back there would be no problem. Pulling my grey jacket tighter around myself, I speedily made my way back to our motel.

Trying to keep from making contact with any possibly shady characters around me, I kept my head down and lifted my feet off the ground in an effort not to scuff, as I hated extraneous noise. I gave a small smile when I realized that I was looking pretty sketchy myself. Letting my mind wander, I soon had myself outside our hotel. Peering up at it, I couldn't help but think that something was off. Two of the letters were out on the sign, making it look like the message read "H EL". The whole building simply looked drearier and darker. There weren't any lights on in any of the windows, either. Which was mildly depressing because our room was one of the ones at the front. Were my parents already asleep or were they simply not home yet?

Shaking off my growing fear, I walked inside and noticed that the whole interior was just as bad. Could this seriously be the right hotel? I looked at the front desk, which looked like it had been permanently vacated, but the hotel name matched up and they were the same decorations. Except, upon closer inspection, a painting on a wall depicting a few poker players seemed to have more red and black tones than I remembered. And was it just me, or did one of the poker players had features that displayed anguish as he handed over a circular, bright blue object (a weird type of poker chip, maybe?) to another man who overshadowed him and beheld a terrifying look of triumph as he reached out to receive the blue object.

I gave a small shiver and headed up the stairs since our room was only on the second floor. My steps echoed up the concrete stairwell and I felt as if the darkness from the hallway was following me from the lobby. I snapped my head around to try and catch the cause of my unease, but only managed to see my weakly displayed shadow. Convincing myself that everything was fine, I made it up the stairs and opened the door to the second floor.

Stepping out, I carefully closed the door behind me, not wanting it to make that annoying click in this silent hallway. Making it to my door, I pulled out my card for the door, and mindlessly swiped it. The door merely blinked a red light at me. What? How could it not work? I tried again, and again. There was no change. Fed up with waiting, I raised my hand, about to bang against the door, but then a draft blew past my head and the door slowly swung silently open. Oh. Haha, silly me. I probably should've tried that first.

I let out a small breath of relief and allowed a small smile to creep upon my lips. Thank god. I was home. Or at least a temporary place of residence. Either way, I could now go to bed and hide underneath the covers while pretending all of this night had never happened. My relief was short lived.

It was like a strange dream. The door smoothly displayed the scene that it had previously hidden. Slowly two shadowy figures came into sight. One heavily deformed figure towered over a slim, feminine one. As the deformed one raised a knife, his intent clear, I couldn't help but remember the painting from the lobby. Eyes steadily widening, my focus shifted to the giant moon outside the window. The thing was laughing and grinning with giant square teeth. That moon couldn't possibly be hanging out in space, could it? That question was shot out of my head, however, as the deformed shadow stabbed the lady right through the face. I could even see the point sticking out the back of her head.

This was way too surreal for me to handle. With that creepy moon laughing and gnashing its teeth, blood shot towards the deformed figure before the shadow of the lady appeared to rip apart before dissipating and only leaving behind the splattering of blood and a strange, glowing blue orb. Grabbing the orb, the figure proceeded to devour the object whole. That was about the time that I finally woke out of my reverie.

I would've given a scream or yelled or any other type of shout, but I've never been a particularly loud person and I wasn't just about to start now. Even if my life seemed to depend on it, as it did now. All my vocal chords could emit was a strangled croak, my own scream swallowed by my throat. However, it appeared to be enough for the demented figure to turn its glinting red eyes at me. 'Well, I'm fucked.'

Despite my inaction of my voice, my body was not one to betray me and I managed to rip myself from the creature's gaze and make a hasty retreat. Of course, by hasty retreat I meant running for my stupid, unfortunate life. No longer captivated by the surreal scene, I gave a very lousy yell of, "AAAAAH- HElp?"

If I wasn't running for my life, I would've banged my head against a wall. Seriously, I had managed to turn my cry of help into a question. In these sorts of situations, I think it would be better to demand help. Not that it's particularly my fault, I'm simply not used to asking for help, and it's not because I'm too prideful, it's just that nobody is usually there to help me. I've had to get by on my own. Unfortunately, I really wished someone was there with me then.

I managed to reach the stairwell door with a speed I didn't know I had, but as I touched the handle I heard the most unworldly voice snake its way down the hallway. "Don't think you can escape my reach, girly," the creature somehow managed to screech and speak breathily at the same time. "Your fate has already been decided!"

Unable to come up with any response to that, not that I think I had any possible way of speaking in this situation, I could feel my hair prickle and my stomach dropped. All the more reason to sprint down the stairs and fetch it, right? Haha, lame joke. What can I say, though? Tough situations make me seek humor, it's comforting. Besides, making it out of that building alive was going to take quite an effort.

Wrenching the door open, I didn't bother even using the steps and just jumped down each set which made my feet ache. Pain was second priority, anyway. Exiting the stairwell, I ran through the lobby, but couldn't resist a last glance at that awful painting. This time, I understood what that eerie blue orb truly was. What a horrid painting.

Finally outside of the building, I slowed myself down and stopped. Not having run that far, I wasn't particularly winded, but I hadn't actually heard that creature clambering after me, so I decided to at least slightly catch up on my breathing. Obviously, that was a bad idea. Couldn't I possibly have remembered all those lessons I learned from the scary movies I watched? Run, don't stop, and NEVER look back. As it was, I just stood there and stared up at the sky trying to see if it looked even remotely familiar. At least I had been looking up, though, because I managed to notice a sudden flash before my fear returned.

A resounding crash of shattered class broke the unusual damp silence of Las Vegas. The damned creature had merely waited for me to exit the building so that it could simply jump out a window after me. Screaming some profanity (I was too freaked out of my mind to remember what choice words I had uttered) I didn't wait for the creature to come into sight before returning to running for my life.

Not really thinking properly, I tried to escape my pursuer by running into the back alley behind the hotel. Word of advice, don't ever do that either. Why? Because the hotel designer obviously thought it was a good idea to cut off and make a perfect place for someone to be trapped while they got mugged. Or, in my case, murdered. My hope of escaping quickly withered, disappeared from my body and sank into the ground. I slapped my two hands on the concrete wall, testing if there were any possible ways to climb it. It appeared there was no escape. Zip. None. Nada.

Strength gone, I sank to my knees and pressed my forehead to the wall in despair. Could this really be it? I was only 13 years old! Of course, there were plenty of other people younger than I who had died before me, I reasoned. Still, that type of thing doesn't ever seem plausible until it was staring you in the face.

"HurHurHur..." an all too familiar noise of the creature's voice reached me. It appeared to be laughing at me. "You finally see your fate now, do you? Come now, don't be shy. Turn around and look me in the face. I want to watch you die."

Its screechy breathiness slithered its way into my brain and I couldn't help myself. I had to see this creature for myself, and as expected, it was one of the most disturbing scenes I ever laid eyes on. It still had the essence of being human in shape and features, but he (I'm guessing) seemed covered in boils, was so incredibly pale that you could see dark purple veins crisscrossing underneath his skin, and long, limp black hair that was really straight and seemed to stick to his body. At least he was wearing some clothing, a greasy and torn 'used-to-be' white wifebeater with similarly ruined dark pants. He wasn't wearing any socks or shoes, though, and I could see his grotesquely long toenails that were yellowish and cracked. Blood and (ugh) pus, used from all over his body as his limbs were all held at weird angles as if were some sort of puppet on strings. Head hung to the side, I could see his eyes through his hair and they were completely black and seemed to be all watery as a dark, oozing liquid was excreted from them.

Anyway, I could go into more detail, but I'm pretty sure that you get the idea and are already wanting me to stop. Besides, I was more focused on the gigantic knife he was holding. It was covered in rust, or more likely dried blood, with an impossibly black handle. I grimaced, I didn't want to imagine that knife ripping into me, but the images came anyway. Tears began to form in my eyes as the creature took its time walking over to me.

'What are you DOING?' A voice inside of me was yelling at me. 'Get up! Fight! The day's not over yet.' I felt my muscles tense, but I didn't leave the ground. Was fighting all that better? I'd probably just die anyway, why don't I just sit here and learn to accept my death before it happens? 'So? You can die peacefully knowing that you actually tried! C'mon! MOVE!' So, on orders from my voice of survival, I shakily stood up and leaned against the wall, much to the surprise of the creature. I looked around hoping for something that I could use against his knife, but nothing looked useful. Unless, of course, you suggested I slap him with a rotten piece of pizza that was just lying there. So I just stood there, trying to muster up all of my fighting spirit with absolutely no plan whatsoever.

Luckily, however, an intervention came to me from the sky. Or, more specifically, another shattered window. The sound broke through the night even louder because of the concrete walls around us. I was awake enough to cover my face with an arm as glass came raining down, but I could feel bits patter against my arms and hair like rain. When the glass rain had ended, I lowered my arm and saw that some guy my age (maybe 1 or 2 years older than myself) had somehow landed on his feet in front of me and was staring down the creature. As far as I could tell, the guy had light brown hair, was wearing a simple, white t-shirt and faded jeans. 'Did this guy really just jump out of that window?' I thought incredulously. Not that it mattered, I just hoped that he knew what he was doing so that he didn't die with me.

"Get out of the way!" screeched the deformity.

"You'll have to fight me first!" Brown-Haired Guy shouted back (even though announcing such a fact seemed obvious), and then his hands began to glow.

'EH?' I thought in shock as his hands turned into medium-sized knives. My eyes widened and my jaw went a bit slack in amazement. 'Maybe I won't die!'

A/N:: Well, I hope that wasn't a total failure ." And yes, flashback things are horridly lame, but I felt like it. Anyway, if someone is actually reading this, review? It's my first time writing something on here, so it'd be nice to know what ya'll think :) For now, I'll keep it T, but let me know if I should raise it due to violence, because sometimes I get WAY too into it...