A Brief Note from Ms. AnoMaly,Thank you for choosing to read my story. I'll be quick with this message. This is my first fan-fiction that I've 'published'. I used to write for myself only, and thought I'd try something... Different. A little information about this story that should be useful, none, or very few chapters will be in chronological order. If you've read Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk(Also wrote Fight Club, Choke, etc.), it jumps around a bit like that. If you've never read Invisible Monsters, I highly recommend you give it a try(if you're over the age of 13. It's hard to appreciate if you're any younger than that). But now, I'm rambling. I'll leave you to read. Thank you, once again, and happy reading.
"Come, now!" he urged, pulling at the rope tied 'round my neck. Monsieur D'Arque trudged along mere inches in front of me. The woods were rather... ominous, or even more so, at night. A rather heavily muscled man with a broad jaw and his accessory, for lack of a better word, had requested the master's presence for a topic that I only heard bits and pieces of. I'd been cast off to sit alone after trying to bite the pudgy fingers of the lackey as he prodded me like a piece of meat. Master had been displeased lately, and rarely let me leave his side. Now, him walking in front of me, maybe a head and a half taller, he seemed like a calmer man. I grabbed at my bandaged wrist to keep from grabbing at his. Surely, he'd brought the whip and wouldn't hesitate to use it.
"Patient 66053, you're dawdling." he growled angrily. I jumped to attention and hurried up behind him, slightly noticing he'd loosened his grip on the rope. I wondered for a moment if he knew my name... Then strained to remember if I knew it. 66053. What a name. I lightly tapped at his back, wondering if he'd notice. He turned his head slightly, and I wrote out my question, shakily, on a piece of paper.""Your name?" he probed. "You're patient 66053. Your name doesn't matter". He tightened the grip on the rope, and I sighed regretfully.
Drawing closer to the carriage, something else peaked my interest. He'd completely dropped the rope. The cord dragged dejectedly behind me, and master seemed lost in a thought. Was he not afraid I would attempt to escape, even if I knew I hadn't the nerve? I picked the rope up, and tapped him again. Turning completely around to face me, I took his left hand in mine, and curtly tucked the rope back into it. Upon closing his hand again, I looked up at him to see if I'd angered him. His eyes bore into mine, full of confusion and control. I looked down sharply and continued walking in front of him. I stopped a few seconds after, to hear a faint falling behind me. He'd dropped the rope, again.. I wrote out "Master, I cannot escape. Nothing is left for a burden like me. If I go to town, I'll end up back in my own room at the asylum. Mother cast me away, I've no home. My friends, as well.. Master D'Arque, your asylum is all I have." I picked the rope back up and put it in his hand once more. I left my hand to linger on his. He seemed shocked. His hand was cold, and chilled through both sides of the skin. In contrast to the fiery temperature of mine, this felt natural. It felt good. But, completely wrong. I looked up at his face. Emptiness. He grabbed the rope, dropped my hand, and pulled with mild tension. "Come now... D.. Dannielle." I looked up. He nodded as he continued to pull. It didn't fit, it wasn't my name. "66053" I hoarsely whispered as we boarded our carriage to my prison... My home.