Disclaimer: I don't own anyone but Void and Mono. All youtubers are property of themselves. This story is inspired by the art of maskman626 on Deviantart. I'm sure you'll know which pieces inspired this story. This is the only Disclaimer I'm gonna post for this story because its obvious this will never change.
Note: I'm looking for someone who will read over my chapters before I post them, to look for spelling and grammar errors and to bounce ideas back and forth. I think that's called a Beta? You've gotta like youtubers and horror themes (hint hint). Just post a review if interested (not sure how having a beta is supposed to work).
"Is she secure?"
"Yes, she'll be hard pressed to escape."
"Good. She won't be able to interfere."
Black eyes stare at a holographic screen as an insane smile stretches across a pale face.
"Let the games begin."
"I was always in the background, watching everything, invisible to all eyes. I saw everything, feeling nothing, unable to walk away. These visions haunt me, the fighting, the betrayal, the vengeance, the murder. These dreams of memories not my own, in a numb third person view, I'm forced to watch it all. Perhaps this world of darkness is the cause? It draws me in, dragging me away from the light, down into this hell with fire and darkness and blood. Claws and thousands of arms hold me in place, clutching me in darkness and forever grasping my soul as a threat of what will come. It was like the Devil himself held me in an embrace, showing me all of what Hell offers. Escape is never an option while I'm held hostage and I'm only freed when I have witnessed everything, felt all the pain with a numbness like ice. All five senses are tortured. His screams hurt my ears, I can feel the blood cover my body in a sick warmth, the smell of burning flesh and betrayal stung my nose, the taste of darkness and of bitter disappointment cause my tongue to burn and the sight. The sight of war, a battle between demons, the sight of torture, of a pain beyond all pains. My eyes reflect all of this, blank and red, unable to feel any regret. I look at my hands and they are covered in blood, taunting me of my sin, and I have the gall to laugh. Except it wasn't me laughing, oh, I felt my mouth stretch baring straight white teeth, perfect in every way, to all who saw, I felt my shoulders shake, I felt my chest rumble with hysterical laughter. Why am I laughing? Why did I enjoy it? Why did I commit the most atrocious act of all? The wings I held, stained with blood, the red contrasting with the bright glowing green as they lay limp in my grasp. The darkness crowded the edges of my vision, tainting everything I saw. Behind me flaps of my own wings echo in my ears, sounding like claps of an enthusiastic person shouting for an encore. I stand above the body below me, shadows choking my body, freezing my limbs in black stone. My once brown eyes are now dark red and staring at the pale body before me. My wings, too, have changed. Their once pure glow is now stained with blood turning their white color into a haunting pink. The stains now a sign of my sin, casting me out, betraying my nature to all who look. I see all of this, as if I were a bystander watching something with a minor curiosity. Who are these creatures? Why do these visions haunt me? What is this world of darkness and blood? How can I stop them? Where can I escape? When did all this happen? Help me. Help me escape."
"Miss Dean, our session is over, time to go back to your room." The doctor sighs tiredly.
Glazed blue eyes just stare into space, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, just experiencing the horrors her mind haunts her with. The doctor pushes a button on his desk, summoning two guards dress in white uniforms. They roughly stand the girl up and drag her to her room. The white jacket restraining her arms does nothing to hinder them. Doctor Johnathan Green couldn't help but feel pity for the girl. She has been in this nut house for no more than a month and he was trying everything he can to heal her but she was trapped. She is a prisoner of her own mind and there is little to nothing he can do to help her. It was the same story over and over every time they meet. This one held more detail though. Maybe it's a sign? A sigh escapes him as he fills in a report on their weekly meeting. There are times where she words it differently, so, Johnathan didn't put much hope into it of being a sign of improvement. Glancing at the clock, Dr. Green rubs his temples before replacing his white lab coat with his brown long coat and he grabs his black briefcase before leaving his office. Placing the report on the nurses desk to file, he bids them a good night before leaving the building. Dr. Green pauses to take in his surroundings.
Behind him stands the St. Tristan's Mental Home, a relatively known mental hospital located in a little town in the state of Oregon. It was a medium-sized, five floor, white concrete building with dozens of small barred windows and with a single entrance of double sliding glass doors. The grounds are medium sized with patches of gardens full of flowers and trees here and there. A long stone path leads up to the hospital from a large iron gate with the hospitals name on them. The grounds were covered in a pure white blanket over disturbed by the path. A cloud of steam comes from his mouth as he breaths in the cold, crisp air. Johnathan takes a moment to look up at the sky, admiring the sea of stars and the brightness of the full moon. It never ceased to amaze him how majestic the sky is in the country side. He had grown up in a city so most stars are just helicopters there. Hearing his stomach growl, Dr. Green decided to hurry home to cook dinner.
Had he turned to take one more look at the hospital, he would've seen Void Dean, the patient he had just seen, staring at him through her window, eyes sharp like ice and a wide Glasgow like smile spread across her face. A sharp contrast to her far away gaze and dreamy smile.