Ib: A Trail of Petals
Prologue
"Well… hmm… Wanna trade Garry's rose?"
It was as if the chaotic world around them had stopped to gape in shock. A thick silence enveloped the room at bottom of the toy box, broken only when the sound of her footsteps walking a few paces forward echoed. She knew what had to be done, even her elementary-school mind could comprehend the situation. It was her fault for not taking care of her rose. 'If the rose withers, you too will wither away… know the weight of your own life.' She had been given enough warnings by the gallery and the shaggy-haired man now standing behind her. There was no way she was going to drag Garry, her dear friend, into this.
As the crimson-eyed girl began to shake her head in refusal of the offer, a long arm wound around her, pulling her back into a warm chest while the other held out a healthy blue rose. "Deal," He spoke lowly, and before Ib could protest, the young golden-haired girl who was actually just a hate-filled work of art brought to life snatched the rose out of Garry's hand and sprinted off laughing about the color blue. Ib spun out of the man's embrace and stared at him, feeling the pricks of approaching tears. Her eyes screamed for answers but her tongue was too shocked to form words.
He stepped forward and picked up her red rose left on the floor that served as payment and handed it to her. "Take care of it, ok?" At the young girl's wounded look he added, "Hey, don't feel bad. We'll go get my rose back from that deranged girl!" Seeing the lighthearted hope in his strikingly violet eyes steeled her crumbling emotions. They will get Garry's rose back from that awful painting-child Mary and They will leave this twisted gallery, together.
Ib grabbed her close friend's hand and ran in the direction Mary had gone, breaking into a full sprint when the once-stationary dolls and statues littered around the room began to give chase. Garry spotted a stairway and dragged her sideways to it where they pushed through two large, red-eyed blue dolls and ascended from that pit of demons. Their running slowed to a walk in the long hallway when it was obvious there was nothing chasing them anymore.
Ib and her companion stopped to catch their breath. As she turned, a smile spreading across her features, ready to tell Garry how 'we sure showed them', the sentence died on her lips along with the smile. They both stared down at two bruised blue petals lying on the ground. "… Is that-Urg!" His question was cut off when he knelt and clutched his stomach, pain twisting his features. Worry clutched at the young girls heart. She crouched next to him, allowing him to fall into her small arms rather than the hard floor and gently assisted him in laying his back against the wall, wary of his intense discomfort. Before she could ask what was going on a voice rang out through the hallway.
"He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not!" Mary's voice echoed in a sing-song tune.
Ib froze. She knew this game, the girls in the school yard used to tease the boys with it. You would determine if the one you had in mind loved you by… plucking off the petals of a flower one by one. Dread dropped like a ball of ice in the young girl's stomach as she listened to the blonde sing her song. Holding Garry's hand, she closed her eyes and flinched with him every time a statement of love was made, unable to do a thing.
"Oh! He loves me! Hehehe!"
Once she knew Mary had finished her game, She quickly opened her eyes to check on her beloved friend. His face was sweaty and pale. In desperation, she placed both of her hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at her with the strength he had left. "Don't… Don't leave me." Ib whispered, tears beginning to flow from her eyes for the first time since being caught in this strange gallery. A warm hand caressed her cheek and smeared her tears. "Hey," He smiled weakly "Don't you dare give up on me Ib. You're strong and brave." The violet-eyed man let out a small wheeze in effort. "Go on ahead. Defeat Mary and I promise I'll catch up to you, ok? I just need to rest…" His eyes fell closed and his hand dropped limply from the promise he had just sealed by linking his pinky with hers.
Her heart shattered, everything seemed to be going haywire in her mind in one moment, as if all the emotions were cramming together in a small, tight box then rushing out again. Her eyesight couldn't focus as tears blurred her vision, making the dim hallway twist and turn, coiling like a snake.
Smack.
Ib lowered her hand from the now sore spot on her cheek. Thoughts once jumbled began to straighten out, form solutions, and shut down unnecessary emotions. Standing, she took one last glance at Garry's unmoving form. 'He promised. He's just resting. He promised.' The sentences just repeated over and over in her head as she walked the remainder of that hallway and up the staircase waiting at the end.
Her body and mind felt numb as she stared at the barren stalk of what used to be a beautiful, shining blue rose. It was just left in a puddle of bruised petals waiting to meet the young girl at the top of the stairs. Looking around the room she noticed the toy chest that once sat in the center had been replaced by another set of stairs leading up into an attic of sorts. Only one problem, they were blocked by vines laced with thorns. With her head still fuzzy, she searched the small room for anything useful to pry the vines out of the way. Leaning down to check under a small end-table holding an open book and feather pen, something fell out of the pocket in her skirt. Lifting up the small metallic box, Ib recognized it as Garry's lighter, he must have slipped it in her pocket earlier.
Holding his possession in hand caused tears to spring to her eyes again, withering away the capacity to think properly. She numbly walked back over to the wall of thorns and began to flick the small switch on the dear item held within her grasp.
Ib had shut down, blocking out the twisted world, hardly noticing the climb up the now open stairway, or the way Mary shouted at her to leave as she entered what seemed to be the fake girl's room here in the attic, or said girl's screams of agony when Ib burned down the picture she was born from using the very lighter of the precious person Mary took from her. 'No,' She stopped herself as She stared at the ashes of a fake girl who used to be called a friend. 'He promised he'd catch up with me.'
Only did The crimson-eyed girl come to her senses when she entered what seemed to be a dark and corrupt version of the gallery back home. Quickly, she ran to the back of the top floor in the gallery, hoping that it was there. Her prayers were answered when she skidded to a halt in front of "The ? World" painting. She still didn't understand the meaning of that one word but when the frame around the work of art disappeared, signaling a passage, she couldn't care less. Once prepared to jump through the gateway, a familiar voice froze her dead in her tracks.
"… Ib!"
The man she had longed to see most arrived right on time. Garry was panting and out of breath but quickly composed himself and stood straight, although he made no move to embrace her as she so wanted him to. "I was looking for you! You went off on your own! Sheesh… I was worried." Something wasn't right. Garry hadn't spoken with the same warmness as usual, and he didn't radiate that hope and security. "Anyway Ib, I think I found an exit!" Her red eyes slid toward the mural next to them, still glowing with light. Garry's gaze followed her own and seemed to understand, "It's not here, It's over there. Wanna go check it out?" His face erupted into a smile as he reached for her hand to lead her away from "The ? World".
Ib snatched her hand away. Something was very wrong. This wasn't the same man she had met in the corrupted gallery. It wasn't the same man she had gone through so many life threatening situations with. Nor was it the same man who gave her candy after her nightmare and cared for her. He wasn't the man who was clumsy and cowardly yet gentle and compassionate. And he most certainly was not the man that Garry is.
Before the illusion cast by the dark gallery could reach for her hand again, she was already jumping through the massive colorful painting, heavy tears staining her cheeks.
Disclaimer: I do not, and will not ever own Ib. Sadly.
A.N.
Ok guys! It's my first fanfic so don't hit me too hard. Constructive criticism is welcome though!
I'll hopefully get the next chapter out soon, but while I'm at it, why don't you hit the little button at the bottom that says 'Review'?
Please, please, please give IbxGarry a try, I know it's weird to wrap your mind around because of the age but I promise I'll make it work.
~Scarlet
