Allons-y! This is a stupid idea, but Imma gon' go 'head and start another fanfic. This one here is based on the Indie horror game, Ib. Yeah...

Anyways, read on!

Guertena

I've always been afraid of the dark. Ever since I was a boy, just the idea of no light frightened me. I had to sleep with the light on, and didn't want to close my eyes. My father had died when I was small, and my mother… there was something wrong. Every now and again, she would get this strange look in her eyes. She looked hungry, somehow. I tried to avoid her when she looked like that. She frightened me.

I used to have a sister. She was younger than me, but wasn't scared of anything. She's the one that sparked my interest in painting. She told me if I painted what I was afraid of, I would be able to face it easier. She was so kind to me, her scaredy-cat brother.

Then, one day, she went outside. She had left her doll outside, and was going to bring it in. It was dark, so I waited just inside the door for her. A few minutes later, after she didn't come back in, I opened the door a crack. I couldn't see her. I called for her, and when she didn't respond, called mother. No answer from either. I summoned all my courage to go out and look for her, but then I heard an ear-piercing scream. Without thinking, I dashed out the door. I ran around to the side of the house, and found my mother and sister, lying in the rose bushes, dead. My sister was dyed red, a hole in her chest. My mother was clutching at a knife in her stomach.

I don't know how they figured it out, but the police came eventually. I stood there and stared as they carried my family away. A man came over to me and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. I asked him if he knew what had happened. He said no, but I knew.

Mother had killed my sister, then herself.

The man felt sorry for me and took me in as his son. His name was Guertena. I never felt the same way again. I blamed myself for being such a coward. When I reached my teen years, I began to paint again. Someone found one of them and asked to buy it. I sold it to museum under my "father"'s name. The first painting I sold was called Woman in Red, and it depicted my mother.

I still painted things that scared me, but also beautiful things as well. One of the last things I painted was another person. It didn't depict anyone in particular, although I named it after someone close to me. Mary, for my sister. A darling little girl surrounded with her favorite flowers, roses.

I haven't painted in almost 5 years, now. People have spread the rumor that I have died, since I never showed my face in public. I heard there was going to be an exhibition of my works at a museum, and decided to see them one last time. After that, I may just disappear. People think I'm dead. Why prove them wrong? My life has just been going downhill, and no one would notice anyways.

The clerk at the desk smiles at me, and I try to smile back. I walk past everyone, as though they don't exist, and go straight to one of the paintings. Ugh. I hated this one. Why did I sell it?

My eyes flit across each piece of art, not staying on one too long. Why on earth did I paint a creepy face? Multiple creepy faces- in different colors? I shake my head and tread on.

But the eyes seem to follow me…

A few minutes later, I come to room that is empty. Well, the paintings are here, but no one is here looking at them. The plaque stares back at me, almost like it is trying to tell me something. Death of the Individual. I look at the sculptures, strange ladies that look the same but are dressed in different colors, and a shiver runs down my spine. What possessed me to create these- these monstrosities?

I turn around to go, but hear something behind me. The statues have… moved? No, I shake my head. Impossible.

But… I could have sworn they were facing away from me…

Suddenly, the lights flicker. I jump, my heart rate picking up. I glance around me, then head towards the exit. The lights flicker again, and suddenly the space in the wall where the doorway just was…

It's gone…

I turn toward the statues again, and this time I'm sure of it. They are moving. One made a scraping noise at it advanced across the floor towards me. I can't run. I crouch down into a ball and cover my face. Why? Why must it end like this?