It was like looking in a mirror, but whatever we were looking at.. it wasn't me. It looked like me, spoke like me, but it wasn't me. I mean, I'd know. I'm me.

     "Ooh," it said with a grin. The same grin I have, except.. twisted, I suppose. "Looky looky," my voice said. My voice, from a thing that wasn't me. God damn, my head hurts. "who's late to the party."

     I felt my mouth twitched, and Ryan wriggled his way out of my arms, eyes narrow. He looked almost confused. "A shapeshifter," he said in a soft tone. "Powerless." He stated flatly. The other me narrowed it's eyes, as if offended.

     "Silly little fox, that's just not the case."

     Mags's fingertips were sparking. "Chris, don't look at it. It can mess with your mind.." He told me. Ryan blinked. "It shouldn't be able to," he said. I took a step back. And then another, and another. It's a lot more uncomfortable than you'd think to see the evilass version of yourself.

     How do I know it's evil? I just.. do.

     There was no wind, no noise; the forest was on stand still, and believe me, it was eerie. Mags spoke up, talking to the other me. "Why'd they send you, hm?" He said. I turned my head. I knew something bad was going to happen, I just don't want to see it when it does. Call me a coward, whatever.

     My voice didn't come out of that thing when it spoke up again. This time, it was Ryan's voice. "Wouldn't you like to know?" it mused.

     I heard Ryan- my Ryan,- whimper. I  reached a hand out, but my depth perception was, for some reason, way off. Oddly enough, though, my little fox came sliding backward into my arms with a squeak. Did I do that..?

     "I would, actually," Mags snit. I held Ryan against my chest, covering his eyes with my hands. "Don't look," I said, and for a moment, I closed my eyes too. Ryan's fox ears were perked up, and he was tipping his head back and fourth at the sound of his own voice coming from another creatures mouth. A shapeshifter, I remembered that much from my grandma's journal.

     I tried to think of what it was trying to do. It started off as me, and then it turned into Ryan. But why? What was the purpose? Who was it trying to play with? I think the original intention was to get to me. I say 'the original intention,' because the next voice was one I couldn't put my finger on to start off.

     It was a familiar voice, but I had to open my eyes to confirm who it belonged to. Mags's husband. I pursed my lips. It couldn't mess with me right off the bat,- it must be impatient, because if it had stayed Ryan a little while longer, I might have lost it,- so it changed it's focus to Mags.

     Why, though, was it here? I looked around. The silence felt deafening, and it took a minute for me to see something reflective- like a mirror, just a glint of it, off a little ways away. "Ryan," I said very quietly.

     "The portal base- it's what they're looking for." He said. "I think it's over there, by the river.. do you think you can get it..?" I mumbled. He stepped silently behind me and shifted into the form of a fox, trotting off without making a sound in the leaves.

     Mags stood frozen, face to face with a carbon copy of his husband. It was strange- even if the Barnabas I was seeing wasn't the real one, he looked exactly like the real one. Mags looked horrified.

     "He's not real," I said, taking a step forward. "Mags," I began again upon getting no response. I glanced to make sure Ryan was alright. "It's not him."

     Looking pale as a ghost, Mags had closed all of his eyes. He didn't say anything. The shapeshifter strode forward, resting a hand on Mags's cheek. "I miss you," he said, "Magsy."

     No, no, no. Don't do that..

     Mags's hands had stopped their sparking. "I miss you too," he said, voice cracking. This was so depressing. I guess I wouldn't know entirely how he feels, but I can imagine. Not that I want to; it's heartbreaking.

     "Come with me, then," the shifter said in a voice that reminded me of cobwebs, strangely enough.

     Angel's Trumpet, that was what this entire ordeal made me think of. They're pretty flowers, don't get me wrong, but when it comes down to it, they're poisonous. They contain a little something called scopolamine, a highly dangerous chemical which when ingested- even in tiny doses, mind you,- render the victim of it completely and entirely docile.

     Oh, and, get this- unable to fucking retain memories. I only know because once upon a time, I wanted to be a florist.

     Anyway, in quantities that are a bit larger, Angel's Trumpet is damn well apt to induce intense hallucinations and even prove to be fucking fatal.

     If that doesn't put the situation into perspective, I don't know what will.