My apologies go out to Chikyu and how it took me so long to rein my muse in. She got a laugh about it though, about how I started at 7:40 and finished at 9:15. There are things probably in this that need minor fixing but overall, I think I got the 'fear' part pretty much down. Go. Shoo. Read and respond please. I do not own the labyrinth.

Fear Me

This was the perfect setting Sarah had thought that she would be murdered in, raped in, or otherwise violated in her lifetime. She was standing next to her old, broken down car, that she knew that it just needed a jump-start on a deserted country road. Fog had been rolling when she left her small town house for the final performance of 'Cinderella' but her thoughts had only been on how late she was, and how much her panty hose was running. Now, those were the last things on her mind as she waited under an eerily bright full moon at 1:37 am for some would be rapist to jump-start her car and promptly jump her afterwards.

In actuality, she could have walked back to the destruction formally known as a Cast party and asked the hostess kindly to help her, but several things stopped her. One, it was 15 minutes of driving, so at least triple that to get there, and Two, the hostess was special. She was a brilliant actress and had several invitations to continue her talent at University of City X but she wasn't the brightest specimen of female ingenuity. There would be a higher chance of getting a tip of how to look sexy when stranded rather than knowing what even jumper cables were.

The only thing that could make this moonlit foggy evening surrounded by desolate cornfield ridden night worse would be the running of the near by factory. The only non-cornfield area of the county, which was led to be a gentle slope of fields until a total drop off into a small valley, was located behind railroad tracks and a small forest. Rumor had it so that whenever the various altitudes of pipes lit up, and the train that came by at the same time entered sensory range, hell would descend.

It was not a Christian sense of hell, however. It was the strangeness of it all. During the day, it was quiet. Platforms of concrete lead up to non-descript buildings that supported the bases of the pipes. No animals would go near it, and no humans would choose to unless it was their job, where no one had ever admitted to claiming employment, or they were about to be mauled by a bear. As bears did not value corn, no had been mauled by a bear yet.

No one noticed the flames until every stoke was going. No cars drove up, no preparation noise was made. The only sound that was emitted was the low rumble of the train entering the vicinity. At dawn, it all stopped.

Speak of the underworld, the very sound Sarah did not want entered her awareness. She shivered in her jeans and sweatshirt, and got back into her car. Her goal was to block that part of the scenery out and to think of other, better things. For instance, her stage make up had been absorbed into her skin, and she would look good if she were murdered now. A hairdresser had increased the hole in the ozone layer nearly one inch in diameter just to use a single large aerosol can of aqua net on her stubborn straight brown hair, therefore her hair looked pretty in several curled strands falling out of a babushka. Now out of the wind, it would not be messed up. Again, her theory of dying young and pretty would be proven.

Her necklace glinted in the low light of a street lamp. Sarah smiled in how even though her boyfriend Ben denied his letting her find it or the claim that he had not bought it, she still appreciated the stubborn gesture of caring. It was pretty, with separate segments of grey, pink and black magnetic beads. Things would catch on it, but it would never break. When she wore it as part of a set she had made, it seemed to glow in its silver settings of roses and owls.

She was running out of things to distract her hearing the full force rumble of the unknown hell on earth behind her. Her watch beeped two, and her cell phone vibrated. It was still on silent from the movie in the basement-mass lack of personal sitting space. Caller ID reported it to be her friend, Veronica.

"Ronny, I need a ride. I'm in the middle of nowhere and Hell is right behind me. Don't make me say I'm scared please, and just come jump my car." Ronny was desired nickname of her longest running friend, who just said that John, her brother, would be out there shortly.

"Thank you Ronny, I owe you, stay on please. Talk to me, how did you like your fifth showing of the craptacular rendition of Cinderella?" Ronny laughed, and again reported that it worked. It was wryly noted that the King did not crack his voice this time and that the prince was still a robot. "Did you actually expect Regrub to both wake up in time and use voice inflection? At least he can still sing. With out that, we'd have you as the prince." Ronny pointed out that she was the understudy of the third understudy in the jokes of the backstage dressing room areas.

Lights temporarily blinded Sarah, who joyfully thought she recognized John. "Hey, he's here, thanks for the company, see you tomorrow." Sarah hung up to quickly for her to make out Ronny's good-bye. Some how, the words 'girlfriend' came through before her line went fuzzy and dead. Sarah must have hung up faster than she thought.

Her hand started unrolling her window before her phone was even back in its pocket. "Hey, you mind popping your hood?" Sarah nodded and bent down to the lever. In the dim light, it appeared that John had two different colored eyes and lighter hair. She stepped out to watch him. "John, did you dye your hair?" John had had a hood partially up that obstructed her vision of him slightly. "I'm not John, miss. I'm just a worker from the near by plant."

For the first time, Sarah had a glimpse of her aid when he pulled down the hood. She saw a strong jaw, and a set of a blue and a hazel eyes. There were remnants of eye makeup, and beneath his coat, jeans extended. His hair was blond and hit his shoulders and must have been held back for a time while wet with a hair thing. Despite his helpful gesture, his eyes were cold. His smile did not reach them, and there was an air of uneasiness on her part, when trying to read them. He would not let her.

It seemed like there was a stare down when Sarah's heart felt like it stopped pumping. The wind ceased its movement, and the factory, sorry, plant was oddly silent to her perception. The moon flashed brightly for a millisecond and her hand being shaken by the worker brought her out of her trance. She must have been spacing out and imagining his glinting eyes. Sarah sat shivering in her car as she watched the worker drive away, and kept shivering until she reached her home. Inside her bed, she could not sleep, and when she closed her eyes, she only saw hazel and blue. The feelings that accompanied it ran along the same path as fear.

It turned out that John had gotten out there moments after Sarah had left and reported to Ronny that her engine must have restarted. There were no other tire tracks around there, and the news contradicted Sarah's mentioning of Hell starting up. That night, it had been closed for chemical reasons. He joked in his brotherly sort of fashion that she must have been doing more than 'watching a movie' that night. Playfully, she punched him in the solar plexus. Ronny had told her that John had to pick up his girlfriend before she was picked up, for whatever reasons, and while those two had searched for signs of Sarah, the girlfriend, whom was immensely disliked by Sarah and Ronny, had found her necklace.

That night, before going to bed, Sarah had sworn she had taken it off and set it next to her clock. It was concluded that it hadn't fallen off the table rather than it fell off her neck. Inspection proved that the chain had been cut somehow. Maybe the exact knife that Sarah had been using for a project had slipped and cut just enough of the soft metal to cause a delayed fall. There was a scratch on her neck as proof from earlier that day.

All throughout the next week, bad and strange things happened to Sarah. The strange part was her senses. She smelled a mixture of sickly sweet flowers, sulfur, and sweat nearly everywhere she went. Several paranoia-induced showers established that Sarah was not the cause. Maybe she had spilled something on her clothing that day. Everywhere she saw, people had two different colored eyes. Constantly flame danced around her vision. She was itchy, to, around her neck. It only felt better when the necklace was off, and she had to trade it with an older necklace she had found and disinfected earlier that year, when her car had broken down again.

The campus nurse sent Sarah back home 'to get some rest'. That was a nice thought, Sarah had established, but in reality, nightmares of fire, train tracks, and Ben lying in the middle of road in a pool of silver blood kept her awake at night. No one decided to notice her state of being, Sarah established, and she fell into a silent depression.

Several weeks before graduation years later, Ben had been found in a crash, surrounded by a mess of chemicals he was bringing home for a at-home project. Sarah had been told that his car was rear-ended, totaled, and the result was the spill infecting Ben's accident related scratches. He died in a nightmare at the hospital, saying over and over again, 'Sarah, no. No, don't go. No, don't go.'. They had been broken up and had not contact for over 2 years.

During Ronny's graduation party, a fire started. It was a harmless, incense induced garbage fire that lit up the crowded house like a match. People barely got out with nothing less that 2nd degree burns, but Ronny had been the last one out, and consequently, the one to sustain the worst damage. Several surgeries later with insurance denied, her family had taken Ronny back to where she grew up so that she could die where she was happiest.

Sarah couldn't help but notice they shunned her now and gave her no chance, again, to say good-bye to Ronny. They moved her in the middle of the night and disappeared all together. Several days later, Sarah received a package. Inside were Ronny's bloody bandages, and the incense ashes. An attached note said that Ronny wanted Sarah to have peace in knowing that she caused her friend's death. Sarah had gotten to the party late, and consequently was nowhere near the fire.

She moved shortly after that, to once again the country. There had been an invitation to her beginnings sent in the mail, as an accompaniment to several letters from a would be stalker. The only difference between the ones she received in the past and the current ones was that fantasies encased the later ones, with the dead bodies of her friends and family involved. The most common factor in each one was train tracks, and near her parent's house, to where she now traveled to frequently to visit her old parents and grown up Toby involved crossing over them.

Everyone she crossed them, she got more depressed and nearly suicidal. The more she did, the more she got phone calls, letters, and emails of how she was doing right, and if she kept going, he would meet her. Sarah only understood what he meant when on one day ,when once again she attempted suicide, she woke up healed, with a figure above her. He had long blond hair, and mismatched eyes. He extended an invitation to hell, and hand.

So…is there fear in your heart? Or disgust at the attempt? Tell me so pls. warning, the next installment of this fic will be by Chikyu. There are four parts total, I'm doing the first and last. Chao.

Saturns darkness pulled another out of her rear for your enjoyment.