Being the third in a series of Umbrella Academy/WWE fanfics


Featuring-

The Reflection a.k.a Matt Hardy

The Reflection a.k.a Jeff Hardy

A/N: Can you tell which is which?


Rating- serious, contains scenes of death which you may find a bit gross. Unless you're twisted like me and don't think they're gross enough.


The Reflection.

The stagnant water from the pipe continues to drip like it has constantly for the past few days. How much more water can there be? It's driving me mad, but there is no point in stopping the drip; it's all I have. In this dilapidated house a thousand memories are blanketed by years of dust. The floorboards are only in place because they are held together by clumps of it.

The smell of the house is putrid. Corpses of my family are still lying in their bedrooms, in exactly the same positions as they were fifteen years ago when I murdered them with the shard of mirror clasped in my hands right now.

Back then I thought I was the only one in this family who was special- who had powers. But then I found him.

A ten year-old boy taken in by a lovely family in the middle of the countryside. When they had found him as a baby lying next to his dead mother in the meadow, they knew he was one of the 43, so hid him from the media until he was able to cope with their attention. They had loved him and nurtured him, and he was perfectly happy.

One day he was sitting in front of his large mirror, playing with his toy cars. He didn't know why, but he suddenly felt the urge to look at his reflection.

Except it wasn't him in the mirror.

It was a boy the same age, with some of the same physical features, but he was slightly different. He looked like he could be the boy's brother.

"Hello" said the boy in the mirror. "Can we be friends?"

And so it started.

Over the months the little boy spent ages talking to the reflection of his brother in the mirror. He spoke of him often to his family, who went along with the story, even though they really believed the boy had just invented an imaginary friend. After all, they had looked in the mirror many times only to see the reflection of themselves and the boy- there was no-one else in the mirror.

So they ignored the situation.

However, the more the boy spoke to his brother, in the mirror, the stronger his brother became. Little by little the boy found himself losing his bubbly personality as his brother steadily turned him into an insecure ball of hate.

"You're not one of them. You're special. You have powers and you know it. You could have been treated like royalty and been something great. They stopped you. They've shielded you from the limelight and what you really are. They don't even believe I'm real. They think you're crazy. They want to send you to someone who'll tear me away from you" says the boy in the mirror, twisting his brother's mind.

"No, no, NO!" the little boy wails.

"Ssssh little brother. You don't need them. They're the ones who are keeping me in here with their disbelief, stalling my efforts to escape. Get rid of them and I'll be free from the mirror, then we can be together properly, like true brothers, and we can show our powers to the world. Be who we really are."

The boy in the mirror smiles and his pathetic little brother wipes away his tears and nods. Once the family are gone the boy in the mirror can gain complete control of this silly little boy and use him to escape the mirror for the first time since he was confined to it ten years ago.

And so I did it for him.

I punched the bathroom mirror in fury then went into my "siblings'" bedroom. I sliced their throats apart with a shard of the mirror and laughed as blood poured from the wounds and their eyes stared at me, full of fear. As I watched my siblings die slowly and painfully I could hear my true brother cackling from the mirors. His sadistic cries of laughter bounced off every wall, almost bursting my eardrums.

Next were my "parents". I did the same to them, but somehow their deaths were even more plesasurable to watch. Fury consumed me as I stabbed "mother" and "father" repeatedly with the mirror shard. It was so fun watching them die.

I felt so good.

Once my family were dead my brother's laughter became unbearable, and I fell to my knees clutching my ears and wailing.

I had finally snapped out of the trance. I realised my brother had been using me. By following his orders he was gaining control over me and becoming stronger until he could break free of the mirror. He had driven me to murder my family- those who did not want to gain from my identity as one of the 43; those who just wanted to protect me, and cared for me all these years even though I was not biologically one of their own.

I hated my brother.

I grabbed the axe from under my father's bed and ran into my room. Blocking out the crying of laughter I smashed the mirror apart with the axe; my brother in the miror laughing at me the whole time.

Finally the laughter ceased and everything was silent. I looked down at the pile of mirror shards lying around my bare feet.

I thought it was over. I was elated.

"Quite a show you put on tonight."

I whirled round to see my brother smirking and my elation soon transofrmed into total devastation.

"You escaped." I said, stunned.

"Yes dear brother. By the time you realised my plan it was too late for you to stop me. I am now very much alive." he said smugly.

"I hate you."

"And your naivety sickens me. Thankyou for the release." My brother bowed and picked up a shard of mirror. He then walked into it and disappeared.

For years I walked through mirrors trying to find him, my soul becoming less human all the while. I became full of self-loathing and did nothing but walk on.

Until one day I stepped out of a miror and into a large home. I found ten other people there who were each one of the 43. I became known as Number 11, The Reflection, because of my ability to walk through mirrors.

I became accepted and found a way of saving myself from my pitiful life. Soon the team became thirteen rather than eleven, and I distracted myself by working with them to change the world for, in my view, the better.

On this anniversary of my family's deaths, I decided to return to my childhood home and reflect on my life. I've been here for days now hoping my revolting brother will come back to taunt me, and then I can seize the opportunity to avenge the murder of my mother, my father, my siblings, and my soul.

I haven't seen my brother for years now. I regret not killing him before he walked away into that damn shard. The only news I've heard is that he is working for the team on the opposite side to me.

One thing is definite.

Next time we meet; I will kill him.


A/N: So there you have it- the story of The Reflection; but which one?