Shilo woke up to find herself in a dark, unfamiliar place that appeared to be outdoors. Outdoors? But she was never outdoors! Her dad wouldn't let her! So where was she? And how had she arrived? She stood slowly, eyes darting around warily. There was nobody nearby. The 16 year old shook her head in silent confusion and, following an instinct she couldn't place, began walking forward.
Awhile later, Shilo finally saw another living soul.
"Hello?" she called out. The person, a girl a few years older than her, turned and grinned manically. As she began running at Shilo, Shilo regretted calling attention to herself. She wanted so badly to run away, but she was frozen in fear, forced to watch this stranger bear down on her like predator after its prey. Before the girl reached her though, she came to an eerily abrupt halt and stood still and silent, scrutinizing Shilo. Shilo did likewise. The pair couldn't have been more than a foot apart, both looking so different as they inspected each other. This girl looked a lot like Shilo, at least in terms of physical traits. Their faces were a similar shape and they had the same nose and cheekbones.
In terms of style, however, they couldn't have been more different. Shilo was in a plain white nightgown and that was all. This girl wore a confusing outfit. It was a purple and black striped leotard with what looked like crinoline. It was big, black, and swayed with every step the girl took. In addition, along with the crazy leotard and metal skirt, she had some weirdo gloves that had no fingers and, atop her chest, was a strange gold thing. Was it a giant necklace or some kind of breastplate? Shilo didn't know. In addition, the girl's hair was wild and curly, going in all directions. Shilo's was straight down. And this girl wore clown makeup. Her face was an unnatural white with two black lines coming from her eyes that looked like messed up mascara and she had a little red dot on her nose. Shilo was entirely fresh-faced. One thing that did incite jealousy more than fear or confusion, though, was the girl's body as a whole. Shilo could see from her posture and complexion that she was entirely healthy. Shilo, herself was sickly. She was thin and pale not by her own choice but because of her blood disease. Clearly, this evil twin of hers did not suffer from the same ailment. Lucky girl. But all in all, meeting this strange girl was quite the experience.
"Who are you?" Shilo asked finally.
"Wick," the girl replied. Shilo shuddered, she even sounded like her. But Shilo tried to put that behind her as she dealt with a more serious matter.
"Do you know where I am?" she asked.
"The Devil's Carnival!" Wick replied, grinning again.
"How am I going to find my way home?" Shilo asked. Wick just gave a taunting grin and shrugged.
"I don't know," she singsonged. "As far as I know, this is our home!"
"Fine, then I'll find my own way out," Shilo muttered, a small flash of irritation filling her heart. She did wait in case Wick had anything else to add but when she got nothing but that annoying smirk, Shilo dared to turn away from the clown girl and walk away.
A few paces later, Shilo turned to see if Wick was still watching her. Nope. She'd vanished. Shilo, despite being afraid of being alone here, felt a bit of relief from losing that freaky clown. Where she had gone was of no concern to Shilo, just as long as she was gone.
"What a creep!" Shilo muttered to herself before she continued exploring her surroundings.
At last, though, Shilo passed a mirror. In her peripheral vision, she saw Wick's reflection pass by. Shilo did a double take. There was no mistaking it. Wick was in that mirror! As Shilo stood in front of the metal sheet, all she could see was Wick. All she could see was that wild hair, frightening makeup and crazy costume. But she stood in the same posture Shilo was in. Shilo moved around a moment to test her theory and Wick, in the mirror, copied every movement. Shilo looked down to make sure her clothing hadn't somehow changed into Wick's and that would explain why Shilo was seeing Wick in the mirror. But no, Shilo was still in her boring nightgown. When Shilo looked back up at the mirror, though, Wick was stepping right out of it. Shilo shrieked in surprise and jumped backwards.
"Why are you following me?" Shilo asked, fearful and angry as Wick was finally fully out of the mirror.
"I'm not," Wick replied. "I'm just here because I am you. I don't mean to be following you."
"What does that even mean?" Shilo snapped. "You're Wick. I'm Shilo!"
"Wick and Shilo, Shilo and Wick," Wick sing-songed. "It's all the same," Shilo felt that these words had deeper meaning than Wick was letting on, but the moment she tried to ponder them, she felt like she was going to faint. Before she blacked out, she saw Wick waving at her.
"I will see you again!" she cried, then Shilo woke up in her bed. Realizing that Wick was just a dream, Shilo fell back asleep quickly and by morning she'd forgotten the dream entirely
Two years later, Shilo was living on the streets with a man named Graverobber. Why? Well, her dad was dead. How? He'd been murdered by his evil boss. Shilo had been there, forced to watch it all unfold like the bad opera it was being presented as. But Shilo hadn't just lost a dad that night. She also lost a home because the new leader of the company Shilo's father's boss had owned had made sure to take Shilo's home. She took Shilo's home out of pure spite and this was what forced Shilo to go underground, literally. Early street life had been rough, but Shilo was adapting well. More time passed the 19 year old was thriving. She had changed so much. Living on the streets had made her dark hair wild and her eyes were always glittering with adventure.
Graverobber had also insisted that she wear pale makeup like him and since she refused black lipstick, he gave her blood-red lipstick. He also made her wear all black because her old wardrobe always had a bit of white which was easy to stain and while white makeup was ok, Graverobber said white clothes were too showy. White clothes made her too visible in the dark streets. He did allow her to wear a gold chest plate though. Shilo had thought him insane, but she didn't mind. Even though his dress code seemed unnecessary, some of it did make sense and Shilo honestly didn't mind following it. If anything, she enjoyed it because it opened up a lot of new clothing types her dad would've never even allowed her to look at, let alone wear. This new wardrobe, as eccentric as it was, made Shilo feel bold! Sadly, even this new joy didn't last. Shilo had just turned 19 a month ago when she was shot down by the cops during a robbery. She was shot right in the middle of her face, in the nose. Tears, mascara and blood were flowed down her face even after she was dead.
When Shilo woke again, she was in a small, dark room with a red-faced man before her. Even more startling, he had long claws and curved horns. Normally, Shilo would've been scared out of her mind, but she was in too much pain to care.
"My poor child," he said smoothly. His voice sounded familiar…
"Where am I?" Shilo moaned. She received no reply, but looking into his eyes was all it took. "Please Sir, I don't mind being here. I really don't. But please let me speak with my family. Surely you can connect me to them even if they're Up There," she begged. "I need to see them again…"
"My poor child," this time, he sounded sincere and almost sad. He walked over to her and held her close, cooing something that Shilo would only later know to be a chant. Slowly, her vision faded again and her last sensation was of a soft, yet familiar tune as the Devil sung her to sleep.
She woke again, no memory of anything. She couldn't remember name, location, date, family, home, or anything. Where was she?
"You're in the Devil's Carnival," came the reply. She looked up to see a familiar, fierce-looking man. Ah yes! Her boss, the Devil. He nodded.
"Now I have an assignment for you," he said. She leaned in closer, excitement lightening her eyes. He grinned at her enthusiasm. "From now on, you'll punish the abusive parents who come to our carnival and you will be one of my top clowns," he said. She nodded eagerly, head flapping. She hopped up, already ready to start her job. Before she could leave her boss' presence, however, he issued one last thing. A name. "From now on, they will call you Wick!" he said. Hmmm. It was a strange name, but she liked it like that. It had a nice ring to it too. Wick would do nicely.
A year later, only some of Wick's memories had returned to her, but she hardly minded. She neither wanted nor needed them. Her old life was over so what purpose did they serve? Besides, Wick was too proud of her lofty position as a top carnie to care. What little she could make out from her memories was next to unintelligible anyway. All she remembered was guns, blood, screaming and chaos. Admittedly though, Wick liked this memory because she liked to imagine that she had died in a blaze of glory. It would certainly be fitting of her present personality as a psycho clown of Hell. There were other memories Wick had, but they were all very boring, so she cast them out of her mind quickly.
Then one day, which was quite like all of the many others that Wick had experienced here, a new girl showed up. Out of nowhere, a girl who looked an awful lot like her showed up in the middle of the carnival.
"A new young sinner to torment?" she asked herself. "How fun!" then she skipped forward towards the girl, breaking into a sprint once the girl saw her. As she approached, Wick somehow knew she was looking at a younger version of herself. To a normal person, this would either be insane or interesting. To Wick, this was just funny and it was all part of the giant game they called Life.
"Who are you?" the girl asked after Wick had stared her down for a couple minutes. She was small, sickly, and had a boring white nightgown. Her eyes glittered with shock at Wick's getup and Wick grinned inwardly.
"Wick," she drew herself up proudly and sneered at the child whose ignorant and wary eyes flickered.
Not long after this exchange, though, the girl, Shilo, had vanished again. Back to Earth. Wick still wasn't sure what exactly had happened or how or why it happened, but she didn't care. Mentally tormenting the girl, Shilo, was too fun! Even if she was gone now, the memories remained and Wick would get a good chuckle out of them for quite awhile more.
"Wick and Shilo, Shilo and Wick," Wick hummed to herself later that day after Shilo had gone home. "It really is all the same, it doesn't matter." the girl continued to chant this mantra over and over again. A small flame of curiosity did drive Wick to want to know more about why she and Shilo were so bonded, but she let it go in favor of tending to a new sinner who'd arrived to her neck of the woods. It was a father who'd lost his daughter after lying to her for 17 years. How sweet. In just another hour, Wick had forgotten all about Shilo.
AN: This is just a short fic wherein Wick and Shilo are one in the same and each get to meet the other in an endless cycle. The sinner at the end who is pushed into Wick's domain is Nathan.