Note;;; Um... well. This is an original story of mine that I hope to, some day, get published as an actual book. I only have this first preface/chapter done so far and I thought I may as well post it. So... here you go. The first chapter of my, hopefully one day published story.
Caution;;; This chapter is violent, frightening, and grossly descriptive. Not for the faint of heart. But, personally, worth reading if you decide to read it. Apparently, everyone whom I've allowed to read it, so far, liked it.
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Preface
In the beginning of this whole mess, if it was you, and you knew what I know now, you probably would have avoided what led you here. Heck, I would have myself. But looking back at it now, like I do, remembering what it took to get here, I'm not so sure.
Remembering the confusion and pain. Remembering the discovery and thrill. Remembering the joy, the struggle, the love and the sorrow. I don't think I could give it up.
But of course, if I knew now what I'll know in a hundred years, I may still change my mind to give it up.
Ch.1
The Dream
The house is old and dark. It smells of light perfumes and the cool July night. Smoke is faint in the air, mixed with the scent of cake frosting. They swirl together to make a familiar aroma.
A small family lives in this house. But the teenage girl that roams the upper hallway is a stranger. She moves about the hall, looking into rooms that she can't see, because of the darkness. She looks to help her remember. She doesn't know where she is or how she got there.
She doesn't know why she's so confused. She doesn't know why she feels so frightened. And, worst of all; she doesn't understand why she can't remember who she is, even though she feels the answer should seem obvious. She knows that she should remember- but she doesn't.
It has begun to rain outside of the house. Only a light rain on the roof. The girl feels along the walls. There has to be a light switch somewhere, right? But there are none.
Her eyes don't adjust to the darkness, though she feels she has been there long enough for at least that. Too long, to be honest. Where are the stairs?
She carefully spins in a circle, searching, though she can't see anything. Where are the stairs?!
She was in mid spin when right in front of her a light came on. The light, half blocked, by the walls of its room, reflected off the pale surface of a dress worn by a small child. A little girl with light golden waves of hair. Half of it was tied back by a thin, string bow to show her face; which was reflected in a mirror on the wall opposite of the doorway. Her sparkling blue eyes held all of the carefree innocence of a child.
WHERE IN GOD'S NAME ARE THE STAIRS?!?! Instinctive warnings cried out for her to run; that something was wrong, and she had to get away from there. But she didn't move an inch. Despite the warnings she was receiving, she couldn't find it in her to run from this child. Not that her frozen body would let her go anywhere, anyway. She felt as though she had been bolted to the floor.
The child turned, walking out of the lit room, into the invisible hall way. The light buzzed out. But there was a small flame that was left in the small room, dimly illuminating it. It reflected in the mirror; growing and shrinking like only flames could.
It looked like the flame of a candle. Though, there was no candle. It lightly outlined the child's dark silhouette, even though that wouldn't have been necessary. The teen's sight was still blinded by the darkness, but when she looked at the child, she could see every insignificant detail about her. Like how her blond bangs were lightly swept to the right. How her pale tan complexion was brighter from the past sunny days. And like how her blue eyes shown, despite the shadows that covered them.
Her white dress, also, seemed to glow mysteriously. Like an invisible moon beam was shining on it, causing it to do this. But the light rain clouds outside sealed off any possibility of that.
The child walked slowly. She seemed aware that something was wrong, but was unsure of what it was. Just like the girl, still frozen in the invisible hallway, who was alert to this false note as well. Though, she responded more fiercely to this awareness then the child.
"Mama?"
She sounded just as innocent as she appeared. An unsure child. Unsure and uncomprehending of something so obvious. It wasn't visible; or even physical. But it was in the air. The feeling of disaster. Of potential pain. It pressed down on the teenage girl so dense she felt she would suffocate.
"Mama?"
The child's voice grew louder, anxious, calling for her mother.
She must feel the presence at hand. She must know what it means. She is a child, after all. A young, observant, comprehending child; even if her comprehensions are late.
Even with her small steps, she was drawing closer to the teen. There was an unawareness about her. Though, that had been apparent when she hadn't run for the hills. The child took a quick side step, barely dodging the unmoving teenager. The movement was off. Not supposed to be there.
"Mama?"
Her body seemed to have a mind of its own; regardless of her mental wishes, her body forced her to follow the child. And, as she followed, the hallway began to feel cold, despite it being mid-July.
They both walked down the hall. No changes besides the slight chill that chafed against their skin.
"Maaaammmmaaaa?"
Her mother hadn't responded to her daughter's callings. Not once yet.
Then, a peculiar sound filled the darkness. As if a sculptor had hit his chisel too hard while sculpting his marble median. The child noticed this sound as well and looked around into the darkness trying and find where it had come from. The teen was past simple curiosity. Warnings rang at her, stronger than when she had first seen the child. Yet, she was still unable to move away from the child's side. She felt like a train cart. Unable to jump the tracks and unable to stop, unless the engine did. It was frustrating. And frightening. Only tragedy could come out of this.
Then, like with the child, a light flicked on. It revealed a bed with white sheets. They weren't translucent, the sheets, but they looked light. The flooring underneath the bed was a white carpet. But nether of the girls took much notice of it. Their attention was drawn to the bed.
A woman was lying in it. The sheets covered her head, but they could tell it was a woman. She was lying on her back, her covered face toward the ceiling.
"Mama."
Her whispered relief was strong. But there was no relief for her follower.
The child reached her small hand out and grabbed the corner of the beds white sheets. This caused it to fall away from her mother's face; a face that even the angels would envy. Light gold waves almost exactly like her daughter's fanned out and framed her face. A loose piece of hair curled from her hairline, down to her chin.
With force that didn't fit her size, the child flung the sheets away, to the foot of the bed. It lightly landed, draping over the edge of the bed. The light flickered, but, instead of turning off as it had before it came on brighter, illuminating a changed scene.
Red covered everything around the beautiful mother. Her skin had become a pale blue, compared to her once golden tone. Her lips and eyelids were a deep purple. Deep cuts adorned her arms. Her dress, that appeared to have been once white, was red. One, long cut ran down both of her legs. The deep red blood dripped in thin, spider web-like streams.
The red blood crept down the side of the bed, and spread into a large puddle on the carpet. But, oddly, the blood didn't spread through the rest of the sheet on the bed. It only ran down the side of the bed.
A black knife handle set vertically hovered over her stomach. There was a small hand print indented in the handle like it had been squeezed into it, as an indication, of its possessor.
"Mommy."
The still child's quiet, frightened, voice remained silent. Both teen and child were frozen, horror-struck.
The child silently climbed the blood stained bed, sitting back on her heels when she had climbed it. She couldn't make sense of what she saw. What had happened to her mother? Her white dress soaked up some of the blood from the sheets. It moved more quickly through the fabric of her dress than it had through the carpet.
She brushed the now bloody curl away from her mother's face. Still in shock, she reached out to the knife handle and carefully pulled it from her mother's corpse. Her small hand fit perfectly in the indent on the handle.
She held it outstretched in her hand, studying it blankly; like she didn't understand what it was. There was no blade. Only the handle.
Before long, it disintegrated, leaving microscopic black fragments in the air as a cloud. The cloud began to shrink, disappearing into the child's hand, fully absorbed before she even had time to notice what happened.
Her light gold hair changed a shade darker.
She stared blankly at her now empty hand, and she curled her fingers. There was nothing left. Nothing but air. She then laid down, lightly tucking herself into her mother's side. In a small voice, she began to talk to her.
"Mommy? It's too early to be in bed Mommy. Mommy, Daddy will be home soon. We should go see him. I don't want to go to bed yet Mommy. I promise I won't be loud. Promise. We won't tell Andrew I stayed up late. I want to be with you and Daddy tonight, Mommy. Please. I promise I'll be quiet."
She quietly went on speaking to her mother, trying to get the consent from her to stay up. She looked as though she was trying to will her mother back to life through the conversation. The teen stared; unable to look away, afraid that there would be another change. And so, though it caused her pain, she watched on. This would always haunt her anyway. It wouldn't matter if she looked away now or not. Tears were starting to fall down the child's cheek, when there was a soft 'click' that echoed out of the darkness.
"Daddy's home, Mommy. I'm going to go get him for you... I love you, Mommy."
She gently placed her small hand over her mother's unbeating heart and kissed her temple before she hopped out of the bed and ran back into the darkness. Because of their stride differences, the teenager was able to follow her easily. As she ran with the child, she looked back at the crimson bed before it could disappear. A drop fell from over top of it. And, looking up to the light, she saw something peculiar. From the invisible light cord hung little knitted baby booties. They were drenched and dripping with blood.
The light went out.
Fear curled in her stomach as she again followed the small child through the darkened hall. They ran down the black corridor and soon saw a flickering light. An open flame in an open space. It wasn't the white flame that was left in the child's room; it was a large fire. And, even though it was still a distance away, they could tell that it was a fireplace.
"Daddy, Daddy. Mommy needs you, Daddy. Daddy!"
Again, there came that unusual sound. The chisel and marble. The teenage girl shivered. She didn't know why, but she found that she hated that sound. Maybe it was because she had heard it when following the child before. An unseen wind blew the fires flames and they danced higher, even as the temperature dropped lower.
"Daddy."
As the flames danced about, they revealed a large object, off to the side shadows. A chair that was almost fully hidden in the darkness.
"Daddy..."
The child reached around the chair, searching for his hand. But she stopped when, in the chair, she reached the blue skin of a corpse. The man's dark blond hair was untouched by the blood that was smeared across his body. It stained the wooden floor boards beneath the chair as well. His blood flowed more freely than the mother's had. Expanding through his clothes, and gradually dripping down his pant legs pooling on the floor.
There was an identical black handle in his left shoulder. The blade would have pierced him -pinched between his shoulder muscles and collar bone- straight into his heart. But, as it was, there was no blade, just as before.
Instinctively the child again reached for the handle. And, like before, it disintegrated into a black cloud and was absorbed through her finger tips.
Her dark gold hair changed a shade darker.
She observed her fingers again, and silently, she knelt to the floor. She pressed the left half of her body -that wasn't touched by blood- up against her father's leg. She rested her head against his knee and began to silently weep.
Her breath was gasping and ragged. She was trembling out of control. And, tears began to slide swiftly down her cheeks, as both her parents deaths weigh on her mentality. She didn't make a sound.
She shut her eyes and bowed her head slightly. Her, now brunette, hair fell, slightly, over her face. The only white left on her dress is a thin strand starting at the collar and going down the middle of the back and front. The rest was covered in blood.
The teenager had snapped out of her shock too but it was soon replaced with her overwhelming sorrow. Not only had this child first lost her mother, but then father too. How would this affect her in the future, seeing this at such a young age? Who would take care of her now? How would she heal from this? How could she? She dropped her head, and even more silently than the child, cried herself: Crying for the girl.
As both wept, the fire began to sink down. Neither one noticed. Neither one cared. Down it went, until it too had gone out. Darkness enveloped them, but only for a brief time.
A new light came on, and neither girl moved. They didn't have to because the light was right ahead of them. Shining brightly.
The fire place and the chair, with the child's father, had vanished. They both were somehow, standing even though neither one of them had moved to stand, on there own, to stand. The child looked around herself confused. All signs that she had been crying had also seemed to vanish.
The darkness, a few feet opposite of where the girls stud, seemed to block half of the white light's natural range. The darkness was its own entity, trying to hide its unpleasant surprises within itself. On the other hand maybe it was the light that was the entity, wishing to suspend revealing the secrets, so that they would fear the revolution even more than necessary. Whichever one it was, it didn't last long.
In a blink of an eye, the darkness had pulled back revealing a black devil that it had hidden from the girls with his hands suspending a small boy in the air. An angel child with dark blond curls, the same color as his fathers. The suddenness of the revelation left the girls back a step.
In one of the devil's hands was a familiar black blade handle. It had an actual blade this time, as well. It appeared to be made of a cold, ice blue colored metal. It didn't seem completely solid, though, as it moved about slightly shifting in the air. Like a toxic gas.
The devil raised his arm to plunge the death blade into the angel boy.
"No."
But even her silent, whispered plea couldn't stop the black devil as he thrust his bladed knife down.
Just as the knife penetrated the boy's tiny body, he turned his head and gazed at the two girls. He let out a hushed gasp as the blade dug deeply into him rib cage.
His beautiful baby blue eyes cooled, and his skin began to turn blue. Blood began to drip from his lips.
The devil released his grip on the handle and thrust the boy's small body to the ground. In the muting silence of the night all that could be heard was the faint dripping of blood. Down an invisible hallway, every sound was magnified. Therefore, it all could be heard as the boy hit the floor. The air rushing out of the boy's lungs, the solid crash broke his skull. Every individual bone, as it broke. Even his skin, as it flattened against the ground, trying to soften the blow.
What had just happened was unbelivable. Completely and entirely unbelievable. And who could make sense of it? The murder of a grown being was one matter, but how could the death of a child be true?
The darkness reached out and took the devil, leaving, in its mist, only two paralyzed girls, an angel child's corps, and a buzzing light.
"ANDREW!!!"
For the first time, the child screamed. A high-pitched, world-stopping scream of pure anguish
"ANDREW!!!!"
Like a bullet, the shadows reached out for the gasping, shrieking child. It swallowed her and pulled back just as quickly as it had come. The child was gone.
"Andrew!..."
Nothing more was heard from the screaming child, as her last scream lingered. The darkness had stolen her and the last of her voice. The teen, however, was still in place, paralyzed, and staring at the lifeless body of the boy. The light drew in, and she was alone. Utterly alone.
When she snaps out of her stilled shock, fear rushed to replace it. She didn't want to be here anymore. She didn't want to be here at all. Why hadn't she left already?
A floor board creaked.
As she looked to the noise, she saw movement in her peripheral vision. She looked back to the boy, where she suspects the movement had come from. She was frightened by what she saw.
He had turned his head away from her, yet no one had been nearby to do that. Cold fear ran down her spine and she was again still despite her panic. It was not possible.
The boy turned his head back towards her. Only it was not the face of the angel child. The skin on his face was an alarming, dark red. It was bubbled and blistered like it had been burned. His hair was knotted, and matted to his head at the roots. Any loose strands stuck out in dirty, messy bunches all around his scalp. His nose began to bleed freely, along with his already bleeding mouth.
He opened his eyes. And his eyes were missing. In their place was black: Black that sucked in any light that tried to escape it.
The empty sockets begin to bleed around the edges, covering the rest of his red, blister face with blood. His lips pull back to reveal his bloody mouth. His teeth look like jagged, broken glass. They didn't fit together, and, in the spaces, she could see the back of his bloody, black throat.
He lifted his wrecked body, mounting his broken legs as best as he could. He turned to face the teen. She was petrified. Completely petrified. This was not the angel child. This was not achild. This was a creature.
It laughed cruelly in its baby voice as it stepped back to the darkness. The darkness leaned forwarded and surrounded him hiding him from sight. She needed to get out of this place. Now! Why couldn't her body grasp that?
Then, all of a sudden, she was shoved from behind. She was able to turn around as she stumbled a few steps before she hit the floor; she was on her back when she landed. The creature stood at her feet, looking down at her as she lay there. With a last, hideous smile he stomped his broken leg -which cracked sickeningly- onto one of the floorboards. And, like a spring had been underneath it, it popped back with amazing power; Power that threatened to crush her with its speed and force.
She used her automatic last defense, and shut her eyes.
'Thump'
Oww.
The force wasn't as harmful as she had thought it would be, though it still hurt. And, as she opened her eyes, she realized that she was not where she had been before...
"Good morning sunshine." A sarcastic voice greeted.
...But apparently, still in hell.
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Note;;; So, that's the first chapter of my story. Not vary pleasant, but it gets better. I'll probably post the 2nd chapter as soon as I'm done with it (hopefully by the end of this or next month) and probably the chapter after that. I have a sort of playlist for this chapter. If you're interested, these are the songs I used to help me get in the 'mood' when I was writing it. Oh, If you decide to comment, make sure to put in your criticism or point out any spelling or grammer errors if you see them. Thanx
Play list:
Decode (2)Paramoretwilight
Leave Out All the RestLinkin Parktwilight
Eyes on FireBlue Foundationtwilight
Worlds Collide (4)ApocalypticaWorlds Collide
Peace (2)ApocalypticaWorlds Collide
BurnApocalypticaWorlds Collide
OvertureDeVotchKaNightmare Revisited
Oogie Boogies SongRodrigo y GabrielaNightmare Revisited
NabbedYoshida BrothersNightmare Revisited
To The RescueDatarockNightmare Revisited
End TitleDanny ElfmanThe Nightmare Before Christmas