The Poetry of Blood
River has these dreams.
Not all the time. Not like nightmares. But sometimes. At times when she needs them to happen.
She can think clearly in here. In there. Everywhere the white is. And it's everywhere.
She's herself here. A girl…River Tam…not a broken doll the children threw away.
Every time it's the same.
A white room. So large, River can't see the walls, the roof or the floor.
Floating. Like a cork in water. Her feet lightly dangling in the nothingness.
Sometimes she calls out. But no one ever answers.
Mostly she dances.
The room as a momentum of it's own. It spins around her slowly. She gets that impression even though she can't see it move. River always sees what can't be seen. Sometimes she wished she didn't.
It's silent. Like a vacuum. Completely noiseless…she's so alo-
River blinks.
"Who are you?"
Shock pulses through her system. There's never been anyone here before. NEVER.
But who is this? A girl, with auburn hair and bright eyes. A little younger than herself… River thinks.
"I'm as old are you are, you backbirth!" The girl spits.
"What-how did you…" River's confused. She didn't say that aloud did she?
"No…you didn't," the girl's greyish eyes glint with malice. It puts River in mind of a cat about of pounce, "But I heard you loud and clear."
River's eyes narrow with annoyance, "You're a real houzi de pigu you know that?"
"Uh uh…" the girl tuts, waving an imperative finger at River, "Would mummy approve of your language?"
"Answer my question! Who are you?"
The girl frowns, "Why should I tell you?"
River shrugged, "I'm fairly certain this is my dream…"
"So what? Just because it's yours, means I am too?"
"You're obviously a creation of my subconscious…"
"I'm as real as you are!" the girl sneers, "River…"
River is beginning to grow impatient, "Tell me your name!"
The girl spins around and mocks in a light sing-song voice, "Blood in the River, Blood in the River!"
"Hey! Stop that-…"
Abruptly the girl stops, her back facing River.
For a moment the girl is still. Then her shoulder begin to shake and she makes hiccupping noises…like she's crying.
River moves forward, reaching out an arm but then drawing it back. As she does the girl brings her hand up and latches on to River's wrist, gripping in vice-like, bruising it.
River struggles – but then it turns around and she feels the life drain out of her.
It's grotesque. Full of barbs, and entrails.
Festering, pulsing, bloody mess.
It's hateful and angry, and vengeful and smells like carrion.
Anger. Violence. Murder.
Darkness. Madness. Hate.
Want.
"No!" River's fighting desperately now, but it's got some monstrous strength and it won't let go, "No I won't!"
Tears of fear pattern her face. She feels them turn sticky and awful. Her stomach turns itself inside out, and her muscles are aching from the strain.
She feels like she'll never be happy again.
The Thing grins. Or River thinks it's grinning. The fear exploding around her is not letting her think clearly.
It releases her and she falls back. Onto the Floor.
Trembling. River jerks, and doubles over with pain. She pulls her hand away and the palm is stained with blood as well. It's everywhere…soaking through the white…
"What…are…you…?"
The Thing growls deep in it's throat. And her voice is like a hoarse whisper.
"I am the Truth…"
River feels a trickle of something warm on her lips, and then tastes blood. She lifts her hand to wipe it but realises her fingernails are stained red with it as well.
The black is closing in on her. The white is crashing all around her. The Thing is laughing and it's bursting River into pieces.
River opens her mouth to scream…
But it's taken her voice as well.
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