(This chapter turned more depressing then I thought it would, and most of these thoughts are mine potrade through the character, sorry if you're not sad like me and can't relate. Just forewarned.)

"What happened?" he asked quietly, "and where are those scars from?"

I coughed and shook my head.

"I-it's nothing really, I uh, I cut myself, yeah. It was awhile ago so that's why I have scars heheh..." I tried to lie, not convincing anyone.

Mark looked confused, jack looked concerned, and anti looked suspicious. Dark was the only demon in this house who actually knew what the scars were. Mark, jack, anti, and Wilford all climbed off the bed. It was about time for breakfast judging by the alarm clock on my bed side table. Wilford checked his watch and gasped, then dashed out of the room. I'm assuming he had something to do. The two robots left the room, then went anti and dark with a few of the others. Last to leave was mark and jack. I sat on my bed, my face a total mess, the warmth quickly leaving. And again my mood dropped. I looked down at my hands, and noticed something strange.

They were slightly more grayish then usual. Interesting. I got up from my bed, using my shadow hands powers to make it quickly. I walked into my bathroom. I looked in the miror, and saw my hair was a darker tone than I remember, and my previous (e/c) eyes where now all black, not even the red was in them. I admit I was slightly startled, but I honestly couldn't care right now. The scars burned, and my face was sensitive from the crying, my voice strained from the screaming, my body tired of all the strength it took to exist. I felt worthless. Like my body and mind had no significant meaning in the vast universe. I was a speck of life on the speck that is earth. In the whole cosmos my death would mean nothing, and it would only effect a hand full of people, the only physical remembrance of me after I'm  dead and gone would be a rock with my name on it among the many rocks before me. Even my body will eventually disintegrate, along with the wood of my coffin, and eventually the stone would crumple. The few who knew me would eventually move on and be happy again, claiming its what I would've wanted. Are they selfish for finding ways to forget me? Or am I selfish for me not wanting them to forget? To move on? I heaved a heavy sigh and changed into less revealing clothes. Baggy sweats and long sleeved t-shirt should do the trick. I fixed my darker hair and brushed my sharper teeth. Put on some basic makeup, nothing fancy, then trudged down the stairs to the dining room.

I got down there and everyone turned to look at me, I reminded me of the dream, but I shrugged it off, grabbing breakfast then leaving the dining area to find a secluded and silent place to eat. I felt melancholic, not wanting to speak or listen, not wanting to smile or to cry. Just to be alone. I traveled past the book case, and further than the laundry, going deeper into the house than I have ever been.

Several minuets of blindly wondering around later, I saw a mark on the wall, not anything more then a stain, but I felt compelled to touch it. After my hand made contact, the wall flipped and engulfed me into another room. I held onto my breakfast plate, and stumbled into the dimly lit room. The walls, floor, and ceiling where plain, except for the sky light supplying the small amount of light. The walls were and floor were hardened dirt, as if the structure were dug out. This was a peaceful and silent place, where no one would bother me. This house was amazing with all its secrets. In the corner was a simple wooden table, and two matching wood chairs. They looked a little old but sturdy. I doubt the boys even know this exists. I sat down at the table, and set down my plate. I took my fork and silently began eating. As time went on I sat contemplating on things, then I saw movement in the corner of my eye. The wall flipped, and a person stepped through. I was curious and disappointed at the same time. Someone did know this place existed I guess...

"The host steps through the hidden passage and apologizes for ruining the quiet isolation miss (y/n) has surrounded herself in." the mark clone said, stepping into the room.

"And you are?" I asked, not going to mention his odd speech.

"The host introduces himself to the ill looking girl infront of him" he replies, referring to himself in the third person.

"Nice to meet you host. Is this your hiding spot? Am I intruding?" I inquired.

"The host explains that poor (y/n) was the first to find this place that he knew of, and that the host had witnessed her enter the room. The host proceeds to ask if (y/n) is feeling well, for he noticed she looks quite sickly. The host realised that that had sounded very rude and apologizes." he replied in his monotone and emotion void voice.

"Do you know what's wrong with my skin and hair? I was wondering myself." I pried.

"The host has a theory, but offers to take you to the doctors'. Host requests that he go and inform his brothers and jack and his kinsfolk. The host inquiries that you remain here for the time being." he planned.

I agreed and he left. Then it hit me, how did the host see me go into the room? he had his eyes bandaged. Whatever, he probably had super hearing or echolocation or something of the like. I picked myself up from my chair and stretched. I looked down at my hands, but saw they were still gray, my finger nails were now black like I painted them that way. I tried to summon some form of light, like a beacon. It should be simple, I've done it before, but now I was having trouble. I snapped my fingers, waved my hand, rubbed both together to create friction, anything to try and spark the magic. It just didn't work. I summoned my shadows with ease, making hands, tendrils, clouds, everything. That was strange, but kind of made sense with my current appearance. I looked like dark, except even less color. My tongue flicked over my teeth in my mouth, and I found the canines and first pre molers were sharp to a point. Interesting.

The host returned, taking a double take when "looking" at me.

"The host proposes that himself and (y/n) make haste to the medical assistance, for her condition has worsened a good deal while the host was away." he said, walking up to me.

He grabbed my hand, then I followed him as he guided me through the hall. I got some stares as we walked past, and at one point dark was walking beside us.

"Are you okay? You look like... Me. But more dark... How is that possible." he asked, not paying attention.

"Duck." I said in an emotionless voice.

"Wh-" he tried to ask, right before getting hit in the face by a book.

"My powers are only helpful if you listen." my flat voice called back as dark fell. I heard laughter then yelling. There was going to be a fight. Host lead me to the door. He opened it and stepped out, pulling me along. As soon as my skin was exposed to the sun it seared in pain. I screeched and jumped back into the house, holding my hand under my arm. I stepped away from the doorway cautiously. All heads turned towards me, and I took out my hand to examine it. The skin was black, as if it was charred. I rubbed at it to sooth it. It was too hot in here suddenly. I ran up to my room and put on lighter clothes, short shorts and a tank top. My skin was now a Dior gray as apposed to the silver lake gray it was before. I walked down to the kitchen with peoples looks following me again. I picked up the icecube tray, popped two icecubes in my mouth, and held two each in my hands. I desperately tried to cool down. Dark and anti walked in, followed by the host, mark, and jack.

"What are you doing?" jack asked, confused.

"Its way too hot in here, like I'm on the sun." I said, the icecubes melting absurdly fast. The cubes in my hands melted in seconds. I grabbed two more and set them on my burnt hand.

"The host informs the rest of the group that she was just burned severely by contact with the sun. The host expresses his concern of the matter and suggests she go to the doctors, or the doctors to be brought here." the host spoke up.

"Why does she look like a darker dark?" mark asked, approaching me.

He want to feel my forehead, which I felt a blush creep up my face. It was most likely unseen due to my gray skin at the moment. Mark made contact with my forehead, then had to quickly pull away, wincing in pain.

"Her forehead is literally as hot as a stove." he reported, showing his small burn to the group of oddities. Jack gasped, and anti looked fascinated. Dark looked very concerned.

"Wilford is the only one who can contact them, where's he?" jack asked, studying my burnt hand.

"The host supplies the information to the rest of the group,  telling them that Wilford is at work, and sheds light upon the situation, explaining that mister Warfstache will return later this evening after his interview." the host replied.

"We can't just wait till then!" said dark, sounding worried. That was an interesting tone for dark, worried. Hm.

My body felt hot, even with my clothing and ice cubes. I summoned a smoke hand, and from the hand floated out still burning ashes, and it looked like there was fire in the hand. I gasped and vanished it again so it wouldn't set anything on fire. I felt like I was being baked.

"I feel like I'm being baked alive, please help," I said in a softer pleading voice.

"The host speaks up and suggests we persuad younger kin ice to aid (y/n) in her current state."

"Good idea, but don't let fire know why we got ice." mark responded.

"I'll get em" dark volunteered, dashing out of the kitchen. 

What is happening?

(Look who updated! I hope you 7 people reading this are actually enjoying it, and not just reading out of pity...... Anyway! Next chapter should come soon, and again, I have a oneshots book that I just made a bit ago, so if you want some random oneshots or scenes in the ipliers and septiceyes realm, head over there and suggest, or just read it Idk.

tschüss!)