Author's Note: Right'o, about time I did this: since I am publishing a lot of oneshots in a row, I decided to gather future ones into a collection, so here's my first "full-length" story. I got another one on the works, which will deal with Daniel's return to England and how the Orb business isn't quite finished yet / his childhood and pre-Amnesia period (it all depends), so there will be more of this. For now, I have this little set of snippets. They don't go in chronological order, so we might be on Brennenburg and then just jump back or forward a few years, and so on and so forth. At the same time, these snippets don't go below T-rating, so there will be some around the M; just warning. I will update this as soon as possible: every time a oneshot comes up, I will post it, so keep your eyes open if you're interested in this. Enjoy!^^

Disclaimer: I do not own Amnesia: The Dark Descent; copyright goes to Frictional Games.

The Skeletons In My Closet
-by SnipingWolf

I

Cold Blood

It was one of those nights in which I was tasked to have a look around the cell areas and check if everything was in order. I simply detested it, for almost all the prisoners leaped at their doors and banged on them as they either insulted me or begged for my mercy. Those were times when my patience was tried, brought to its limit, but I merely ignored them to deceive myself. At the time, I was oblivious to what I was doing and used to forget the consequences of my actions, but what I never forgot were the chills that ran down my spine every time I ventured further into the cell areas. The prisoners' screams and insults and laments would be burned into my mind from then on, and so they have.

I am forcing myself to remember and recall every detail, since I am sure that I will read this again a few years in the future and remember the kind of man I was. As I write, I can see the prisoners' faces twisted with despair; I can see my own face, a mask of disgust, fear and regret; I can see Sherringford, the miller, who was imprisoned along with his son; I can see everyone I led into Death's arms. The cell areas were dismal places, with pungent and unpleasant odours heavy in the air and the gloomiest of atmospheres. I still don't know how I could walk through those halls without turning back a single time.

That night, I hadn't seen anyone out of place until I reached the top of a stair and heard hushed and hurried voices from a cell to my left. It was another family I had broken: a mother and her young daughter were there. I will always remember her: sweet and infantile, she was a nine year old porcelain doll, all dressed in blue. I neared their cell and, halfway there, I heard the grating sound of something wooden being dragged around, and I burst inside. It was my duty to keep everybody inside their cells, and so I carried it out. After having a better look around, I found out the girl wasn't there.

I suppose I had a paternal instinct residing inside of me back then, because I couldn't help but feeling an intense pang of concern within my chest. The girl's mother had shrunk back into a corner, staring up at me with tears in her bloodshot eyes. I strode towards her, looming over her like a predator.

"Where is she? Where did she go?" I asked, raising my voice well over her cries. She shielded her head from view, her fingers digging into her scraggly hair.

"I won't tell!" she screamed with the resolve of the mother she was. "I'll never tell you!"

I was infuriated. The only thing I wanted was to get her daughter back to safety! The children were Alexander's additions to the captures; I would never take a child's life away! But she didn't understand, and I understood her fear. For a moment, that was.

"You're just making things worse!" I exclaimed, kneeling in front of her and seizing hold of her wrist. But tears kept spilling from her eyes and staining her tanned features; I couldn't stand the sight of her any longer. I noticed how raw and swollen her wrists were; despite of being no doctor, I could tell they had been inflicted because of the ropes and the chains that had bound her and that they would get infected in such conditions. But I had already submitted to moments of mercy, and I had taken care of some of the prisoners' wounds, and they had all rejected it. I was tempted to bring a pile of water and clean those wounds, but the answer would be the same.

"Look, this is no place for a young girl all by herself," I told her, trying to make my voice sound softer. "She could be hurt, or worse! There's no telling what horrors await down there!"

And it was true. Sherringford the miller had rambled deliriously about certain monsters that prowled and lurked in the shadows of the darkest corners of the castle, most concretely in the cell areas, and that they had been of aid to Alexander. After that time, I witnessed one of those monsters entering a room, dragging its feet and scraping its skin, but it was only a mere glimpse. I inevitably came to believe it- no, they were there, and that they would be merciless with a rogue prisoner.

I reached over and laid a hand on the woman's face. "Please, I'm only trying to protect your daughter. I would never hurt her!"

In that moment, her eyes, ablaze with anger, met mine. "You liar! You are soulless, heartless, and I know you would hurt my child without a moment's hesitation! Damn you, God damn you to the deepest pit of Hell!"

First, disbelief took hold of me; then came anger, the rawest of angers I had ever felt inside me. I didn't think it twice: I backhanded her soundly, with all my strength, and she fell over with a yell in pain. That was what was eating my insides: pain, hand in hand with anger.

"You don't understand! None of you bastards do!" I bellowed. I was tempted to beat her for her insolence, her motherly courage, but the girl was more important than her. I stormed out of the cell and dashed through the corridors like a madman, asking some of the prisoners if they had seen a girl go past their doors. Some replied with more insults, some others kept silent, and I was growing more uneasy by the minute. "Blast you!" I cursed, and continued my search.

Finally, I turned a corner and found the little girl at least ten paces in front of me. She was there, running away from me in her blue summer dress. She was barefooted, her shoes lost or worn, and her panting echoed throughout the hall.

"Hey you, stop!" I shouted, striding towards her. She jumped around, almost tripping with a loose stone, and raised her hands toward me to keep me away. She was fearful, her eyes wide like saucers.

"Don't come any closer!" she exclaimed, but I didn't. I neared her, measuring the length of my steps so as not to scare her away. And like her mother, she cried. "I just want to leave!"

Her cries and sobs still echo in my dreams at night, and it's been two years since that event. I am heartbroken, for I see her crying in my presence now, but I faked compassion even when I was about to… about to kill her, yes. I was turning into a monster, and I barely realised it. Alexander was right: it had been my curiousness along with my selfishness what had caused everything.

"You can't go outside!" I told her, walking carefully. "It's too dangerous!"

The girl took a fist to her eye whilst she sobbed, and the other hand fumbled with the hem of her dress. I didn't stop walking, approaching her, instilling fear into her. She was beautiful, deucedly beautiful like her mother, and like her mother she had ended up broken, like the porcelain doll she was.

She sniffed and said, "I'm telling Gabriel!"

I scowled, ready to make my run to catch her. "I doubt that very much!"

I was this close to catching her, but she slipped from my grasp and ran away from me. I chased after her all the way upstairs like the madman I felt back then, desperately searching for her and hoping that none of the monsters would get to her before I did. Only God knew what they could do to her. After a long while running, I caught sight of her sneaking inside storage.

"I just want to go home!" I heard her scream as I crossed the door to storage. And she cried her lungs out as she ran, wailing in fear and despair as my heart remained unfeeling like stone itself. For a moment though, I felt like abandoning her there and be none the wiser as to her escape; I felt like letting her go and flee Brennenburg and return to what was left of her family. She would see the outside world again and escape the fate that would soon befall her. But it was my life I was saving and, indirectly, hundreds more.

I finally caught up to her, found her pressed to a wall and still crying. Like her mother, she stared up at me as I approached her, shaking like a leaf, like a mouse in front of a viper.

"Please, let me go!" she begged. "I won't tell anyone, I swear! I just want… I just want to go home!"

As she hid her face from me, I spotted a few shards of glass at my feet. Kneeling, I picked one up and placed myself in front of her. I took a few deep breaths before making up my mind. I raised the shard, placed it in front of her face. In that moment, she lifted her eyes up at me and saw me like who I was: a killer.

"No, no, please!" she pleaded, trying to back away in horror. "I'm begging you-!"

And I stabbed her. I stabbed her over and over again until my hands were drenched in her blood, until even my face was spattered with it. I ripped her dress and abdomen to shreds, left her naked and bleeding on the ground, and even after she was dead I dug the shard into her body… until I realised what I was doing. When the realisation hit me, I backed away, horrified. All colour drained from my cheeks as I stared at the girl's corpse, bloodied and disfigured. I didn't know what to do. My instincts told me to run, and so I did.

I ran and ran, yearning to get out of the castle and its horrors, but my own fear impeded me from doing so. I was afraid, listening to my mind's screams: they were dreadfully similar to my little sister's… Hazel. Killing that girl had almost felt like killing my own flesh and blood, a little girl of sapphire eyes and mahogany hair with a fondness for blue. Thinking about Hazel made my stomach churn and wretch, my guts twist and knot in such a way that I wretched and coughed loudly, with all my strength. I wanted to get out. My instincts told me to run, and so I did.

I am still running.

A/N: First one on the table. If you paid attention to the game (which I'm sure you will have, lol), all the references are all from the audio files. For example, I assumed the girl was the one who was wearing the blue dress that you find bloodied in Storage (just before you get the two rods and the note) because she was the only little girl Daniel (or so I think) found himself dealing with. On the other hand, in some of the audio files that are his mind's ramblings, you can hear one saying "All dressed in blue" in an incredibly melancholic tone, as if wistful. Also, there is a sentence in the last third of the story which is EXACTLY the same as another in Daniel's diary (guess which?), so yes: there is also his diaries. I dare you to guess which entry it is and where it is found, lol.

There should be more of this coming soon. Reviews are appreciated!^^