Disclaimer: We don't own PH damn it
Warning: Blood, lots of it
A/N: Okay, so.
Our first story, and we're scared shitless. Please take care of us!
Escarlet is being written by 3 writers- combined, we make siLverDraGin! You can find out more about us on siLverDraGin's profile! When we actually post it on there, I mean :P
We'll be alternating writers for each chapter, but for the first we all collaborated!
That being said, enjoy the story!
It's red.
Everything is red.
The red seeps into his clothes, staining his skin, pouring from his eye-
an eye that is no longer there.
A voice, so hauntingly cheerful and light, breaks into his haze of suffering.
"Look, Cheshire! Blood-red rain! Isn't it beautiful?"
This can't be happening.
This isn't happening.
This is a dream.
This is a dream, right?
He watches, horrified and transfixed, as a girl with snow-white hair and bloody fingers dances through the air, clutching to a chain that looks like a cross between a cat and a human. A red eye (his red eye, the one that she had tore out of his socket with a giddy laugh and a cheerful smile) is in its empty socket, gleaming excitedly.
The crimson rain continues to pour around them, and the metallic stench of rust continues to spread throughout the room. The dolls begin to chatter, laughing maniacally and cooing as the two monsters dance.
No, this isn't a dream. This isn't a dream at all.
This is a nightmare.
He never wanted this. Never wanted the pain coursing through his empty eye socket, the loss of his chain reverberating throughout his head, the sickening wetness as blood soaked into his hair and his clothes and his skin and-
He just wants his master back.
"Hey, are you going to leave me, too?"
He jolts in surprise. The voice seems to have come out from nowhere, echoing throughout the room, yet the monsters are oblivious to the resounding words.
"You're going to leave me, aren't you."
The voice is sad now, almost mournful. The pain in his empty eye has become an inferno of flames, consuming and suffocating him over and over again. It gushes floods of crimson, pouring out from the gaps of his fingers as he clutches at it desperately.
"I-"
"What's this?"
He looks up, his eyes (eye, he only has one eye now) staring at the sight in front of him. A pale foot steps in front of him, and his eye trails up to see the girl with white, white, white hair and a white, white dress that could be compared to snow (except it's stained with the color of rust, dripping and soaked into the fabric and this isn't happening). Her smile is innocent, something that radiates purity, yet her eyes are leering, glinting maniacally, and Kevin feels a sinking feeling in his stomach.
This is the Will of the Abyss.
A nightmare.
"Kevin is suffocating," she laughs in delight, clapping her bloodied fingers together cheerily. "Kevin is hurting! Kevin's suffering! What fun! Kevin is suffering!"
The dolls scream with laughter, eyes rolling and mouths chattering as they roar with hilarity. "He's suffocating, he's suffering, Kevin is hurting-"
The voices begin to blend together, shrieking and sobbing and wailing in a horrible chorus. The blood begins to mix in with the stench of rust in the air, until all he can see is red, red, and more red.
"Suffering-"
"Kevin-"
"Don't-"
"Despair-"
"Leave-"
"Hurting, hurting-"
"Pain pain pain pain pain-"
"SHUT UP," he screams, the pain crushing over him in agonizing waves. "JUST STOP IT!"
Almost immediately, the voices stop, and there is silence; he almost feels as if he can breathe again, until-
"You killed me."
It's as if everything else has disappeared- the purple curtains, the screeching dolls, the dancing chain and the jeering Will of the Abyss. The swirling blackness seems empty, desolate, and then-
A hand grips onto his shoulder.
He can feel warm liquid seeping into his shoulder, blood trickling from the bony fingers and giving off a stench of rotting flesh and rust. He chokes, and twists wildly, trying to shake the hand off. Instead, the fingers dig into his shoulder, sharp nails piercing into his skin and leaving trails of blood.
"Get off-"
"You killed me," repeats the voice, low and mournful. "You left me. You hurt me. You killed me." The fingers tighten on his shoulder, and he chokes as fresh blood makes its way up his throat and past his lips.
"Get away from me," he screams, and finally twists around desperately to see his attacker-
His stomach lurches violently, and he almost wishes he hadn't turned around.
Connected to the bleeding hand is a figure so deformed that it looks like a monster. Drenched in scarlet, with hollow cheeks and rolling eyes, is a girl who must have been beautiful at some point in time. Her face is bruised and torn, fingers broken and flesh torn out in some places of her body. Tears of red slide down her face, and blood dribbles out of her cracked lips. Her hair is stained with the muddy crust of dried blood, dirty and unkempt.
"You left me. You left me. You promised. You lied. You killed me." The voice is mournful, somber. If the situation had been different, he would have taken pity on her.
"I didn't-"
"YOU LIAR."
The voice is harsh now, rough with fury. A hand latches onto his throat, and, suddenly, he couldn't breathe. Everything is red-
This wasn't supposed to happen.
"YOU LIAR. YOU PROMISED ME. YOU SAID WE'D BE TOGETHER!"
"Stop-"
"YOU KILLED ME. YOU HURT ME. YOU LEFT ME. YOU ABANDONED ME. HOW COULD YOU? YOU KILLED ME-
"I'll kill you."
He can't speak. He can only watch with horrified eyes as the girl shrieks with laughter, clutching his knife in her hand. A red scarf wound around her throat brushes almost mockingly against his face, leaving glistening trails of blood and he can't breathe and everything is red what is happening this wasn't supposed to happen THIS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN-
And as the knife comes whistling down, screams of laughter ringing in his ears, the room explodes into tiny scarlet fragments and everything is gone.
Break's eye snapped wide open.
He could hear his breath coming in rapid pants- his throat felt uncomfortably hoarse. Running his tongue over his cracked lips, he struggled to pull himself into a sitting position, his arms protesting in screams of aching pain that shot up through his shoulders.
When the pain finally eased away, he clenched his jaw in frustration as he slipped his rough hand through his ghostly-white hair.
The nightmare hadn't been anything new at all. Over the years, he'd avoided falling asleep altogether as he'd found the consistent nightmares unpleasant, and he still did. He was surprised to find that he had fallen asleep at all, and at Pandora HQ, of all places.
He gritted his teeth as he pulled his fingers out of his knotted hair, a fresh wave of overwhelming confusion crashing down on him.
A rhythmic tapping drew Break's attention from the blank tile flooring to the tanned wooden door that stood at the front of the spacious room.
"Break? Are you awake?" a voice called out, but before he could respond, the door opened and Sharon stepped inside the room.
"Well, good morning," she greeted him with a smile before shutting the door gently behind her. "Did you sleep well?"
Forcing down his uneasiness, Break ran a hand through his hair and grinned at her. "Well enough for an old man like me," he said, yawning. "I could feel my bones creaking in the night."
"You're not that old, Break. Only what, in your fifties?"
"...Do I really look that old?"
Sharon laughed, a tinkling bell-like sound, and Break relaxed a little. The sound of it was warm, familiar, and it comforted Break. It almost sounded like-
-a red scarf, crimson eyes, fake smile, dripping blood blood blood, screams ringing out everywhere-
"Break? Are you all right? You seem ill."
Break snapped out of his thoughts, realizing that he had turned pale. He laughed shakily, running a hand through his hair for the second time. "Sorry, an old man's habit."
"Like I said, you're not that old, Break," Sharon sighed, a small smile playing on her lips. Setting the subject aside, she leaned over and passed him a creamy-white envelope with a waxed seal imprinted on the back. "By the way, Mister Liam asked me to hand this to you when I had a chance. He mentioned something about Duke Barma- perhaps a response from the request of a meeting you had him send some time ago."
"From Duke Barma? So the old geezer finally decided to reply, huh," Break muttered darkly, taking the envelope. "Took him long enough."
"Well, you might as well check it. Anyway, you should hurry and get dressed. We will be heading back to the manor once we finish our business here. With Oz-sama and the others gone, everything is much quieter."
"Those three do cause quite the ruckus, don't they?" Break cracked another grin before sending Sharon a quick glance, silently asking her to leave so that he could change into his normal outfit. Being the clever girl that she was, the brunette understood immediately, and left his room without a word, only sending another smile over her shoulder, and shutting the door behind her.
Break sighed, forcing himself to leap out of bed, and head for the dresser, where he stored all of his clothing. Pulling out his choice of wear- which was consistently the same attire from day to day- he hastily slipped out of and into his clothing. In less than 10 minutes, the white haired man was out of the door, with his black cane swinging in his right hand.
The sky was an ugly gray.
Rain poured from the sky, soaking through the bricked pavement, and spreading throughout the ground. Puddles of red splashed as droplets of water dripped into it, the murky water reflecting the crimson hue of her scarf. The faint stench of rust spread throughout the whole street, making her stomach churn. The squish of bodies as the glistening blade passed through was audible even over the echoing rain.
How disgusting.
'….More…I need more…'
Disgusting.
The blade swung, slicing through person after person, silencing their cries. Its owner bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut as the sickening squelch of blood resounded in her ears.
Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting.
'...Not enough….I..need..more…'
There was a scuffle behind her as someone fell to the ground, and she whirled around, stabbing her bloodied blade into their body. A stinging pang of remorse shot through her.
Tears ran down her face, disguised by the freezing rain.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
Her victims' screams rang inside her ears. It was agonizing, and she gritted her teeth. She shouldn't be doing this. These poor, innocent people, they didn't do anything. They didn't deserve this.
'...This isn't enough..I need more….Master...'
But she couldn't give up yet. Not when her goal hadn't been met, not until she saw him again.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, Kevin…"
The rain continued to fall.