A/N: Hey guys! I'm back~
Thank you for the lovely reviews, follows, favorites and reading my story! ^^ Reviews make my heart sing, and my confidence soar~
So I think I finally chose what I'm going to do with this story. Not too sure about adding Francis anymore, because I don't know where he would fit in with the route I chose. –shrugs- Bleh. Enjoy~
Chapter Two:
'This is just simply the beginning.'
Steam floated through the room, successfully blurring Arthur's vision. The scalding water rained down against his sensitive skin, leaving behind red patches to roam the flesh of his exposed body. Arthur let a soft sigh escape his pink lips, the pleasant water soothing the soreness from his shoulders.
The relaxing shower almost made him forget about the bone chilling message that whirled around, deep within his conscience. Repeating itself over and over, until it began to make Arthur's stomach churn in distaste.
'This is just simply the beginning.'
The pale man blinked, water droplets falling gracefully from his dark lashes and onto his cheeks. Ever so slowly his head rolled back, his emerald orbs staring indifferently at the ceiling; his focus elsewhere.
"This is just simply the beginning." Arthur repeated aloud, the words rolling off of his tongue before he could prevent his lips from moving.
"…" He fell silent, uncapping a bottle of his favorite shampoo. The scent of fresh strawberries wafted through the bathroom, filling the man's nostrils with the enticing odor almost immediately.
'I'm just tired is all, that's why I'm hearing things." He thought calmly, trying to convince himself.
Though the thought itself seemed reassuring and credible, Arthur couldn't help himself from feeling uncertain and uneasy about the situation. It wasn't everyday he was hearing things. Maybe a few times when he was intoxicated, Francis had told him once that he had been talking to something he referred to as a 'Flying Mint Bunny' on one occasion.
With a slight blush, he pushed away the absurd thoughts, pouring a small amount of shampoo into his palm. He set the bottle to the side as he began to massage the substance into his scalp, clenching his eyelids shut as he did so, not wanting the soapy residue to irritate his eyes.
Keeping his eyelids shut tightly, Arthur leaned his head back into the warm water, rinsing the suds from his blonde mane. He waited a few minutes before he pulled back from the raining water, not feeling any more suds sloshing through his fingers.
He hummed contently, combing his soaked hair to the side and away from his forehead, gradually opening his eyelids. He came face to face with the blue tiles on the walls, his thoughts running wild about the voice. He shook his head stubbornly, picking up a washcloth and a bar of soap, trying to rid himself of his thoughts.
Arthur finished his shower shortly after, wrapping a towel loosely around his waist. He exited the bathroom, the cool air hitting his skin like tiny needles. The pale male shivered, small ringlets of water dropping from his golden mane like dewdrops on morning grass.
Goose bumps glazed over his skin as he began to walk, a familiar feeling of dread pooling in Arthur's stomach.
"…"
The air surrounding him became thin, an eerie silence lingering through the halls. Shadows dashed behind him, laughing sinisterly and lurking evilly behind the walls. Arthur became aware of the presence, his stomach twisting and turning with fear. He had felt this way before, but he couldn't place a finger as to when or where.
'Nothing's there, Arthur. Snap out of it. Nothing's there. For God's sake, you're twenty-three! '
A painting smiled maliciously, its eyes following Arthur's quickening feet.
'Remember what Mama used to say. It's all in your head. You need your medicine.'
Breathing in, Arthur snapped his eyes shut. His hands clenched as he fell to his knees, a deafening scream tearing itself from his throat. Tears pooled down his eyelids, all strength leaving him as he fell to the ground in defeat. Memories blocked out by therapy pooled to the surface, engulfing him with the past he yearned to forget.
"Mama?" Arthur murmured one night, emerald orbs glancing up at his mother, who was reading him a bed time story full of exciting journeys about pirates who were on a mystical search for mermaids.
The young woman looked up from the page to Arthur, a fine eyebrow rising in question. She closed the book she had been reading to Arthur, setting it down to lay comfortably in her lap.
She looked back to Arthur, her brown eyes shining brightly through long eyelashes. Her hair was blonde and fair, flowing just under her smooth shoulders, glowing in the light. She smiled sweetly through pink lips, faint freckles peppering her rosy cheeks.
"Yes, Arthur?" She asked, setting the book on his night stand.
"…" the child opened his mouth to speak, but quickly shut it. His lips trembled as he shook his head back and forth, drawing his knees to his chest. "Never mind…" he choked out, hiding his face in his knees.
Arthur's mother knit her eyebrows in confusion, laying her hand on the child's shoulder.
"Artie?" She tried, shaking him gently.
"…" No response.
"Artie, love?" She tried again, the mattress shifting under her weight as she scooted closer to the boy, plucking him from his spot. She sat the trembling child in her lap, a slender finger forcing Arthur's chin up. She gasped suddenly, bringing a hand to her mouth as she looked at her son's bleak expression.
Hot tears rolled down his reddened cheeks, his eyes stinging and bloodshot as he refused to let any more tears fall. He began to shake violently, refusing to cry out. His mother began to panic, pushing back strands of hair from Arthur's face, shaking him gently.
"Arthur? Darling!" She repeated frantically, on the verge of tears. "Sweetheart, what is it?" She asked, her voice cracking as she helplessly held Arthur closer to her slender form, her heart racing wildly in her chest.
"..O-Oli.." Arthur suddenly gasped out hesitantly, gripping his mother's shoulder to draw her closer as a whimper escaped him.
His mother's eyes widened, the color in her cheeks fading away. She shut her eyes tightly, willing herself not to panic. She had heard of him before, he was Arthur's imaginary friend. "You mean your friend, Oliver?"
Arthur nodded slowly, playing with the fabric of his mother's gown.
"… Go on, my angel... Mommy's here." She encouraged, attempting to calm the young boy down by rubbing circles into his back.
"H-he... told me…" Arthur choked, trying to control his breathing so that he could speak clearly. He regained his composure, breathing in shakily. "He said… t-that you were going to die... a-and-" the child gulped, his mother's arms growing tighter around his body. "T-that… it'd be all my fault... " He began to sob again, his tears staining his mother's night gown.
"Shh, love…" his mother whispered gently, rocking Arthur in her arms. She smiled as Arthur nuzzled closer to her chest, exhausted from his little outburst.
"Shh.. everything's all right." She repeated, carrying Arthur out of his room, switching the light off. "Mommy isn't going to die, angel." She said slowly, watching Arthur doze off in her arms. "Because Oliver isn't real."
"B-but..-" he began to protest, a finger silencing him.
She walked into her bedroom, laying Arthur on her bed. "Now, now..." she murmured, tucking the covers under Arthur. She lay next to him, embracing the tired child in her arms. "Mommy's here and she'll protect you, all right? It's all in your head. There isn't anyone named Oliver."
The child nodded slowly, his eyelids becoming heavier and heavier with each passing second.
His mother laughed gently and kissed Arthur's forehead.
"I love you, Mama." Arthur whispered.
"I love you too, my ang-" Her words broke off as a loud snap filled the room.
"Mama? What was that?" Arthur murmured, opening his eyes slowly.
"…" No answer.
"Mama-" Arthur froze in place, his eyes focusing not on his mother, but on the child snapping her neck.
A child that looked about the same age as Arthur smirked, letting Arthur's mother's head fall from his hands. He straightened out his vest, his bright blue eyes flickering toward Arthur.
"Oh, Poppet!" He chirped, clapping his freckled hands together. His smirk grew as he looked down at the corpse. "This wouldn't have happened if you would've stayed quiet about me. So I guess you could say it was your fault~"
Arthur began to feel dizzy, his stomach churning in fear and disbelief. "N-no.. It's not my fault!" He started to shake his mother's body, becoming desperate.
Oliver rolled his eyes, slowly sauntering toward the distracted child.
"Mama!" He cried, the room swirling around him, slowly turning black. His arms became heavy to the point he couldn't pick them up, his body falling down onto the mattress as he began to lose consciousness. Oliver leaned forward to whisper in his ear, his breath tickling the hairs on Arthur's neck.
"Oh, hon." A small cackle filled the air. "This is just simply the beginning~"
And then the world turned black.