I would like to say a big thank you to everyone who reviewed, I'm glad you guys like the story and I'll do my best to keep improving it as I go along.

Now onto chapter three, also known as 'the chapter where stuff actually happens.'

Disclaimer: I don't own Ib or any of the characters


For Ib and Mary the next few days passed in a blur. Both of them had their sights set on one day in particular, but for very different reasons. For one it was the promise of an answer that would help her make sense of her dreams. For the other it was the very manifestation of her worst nightmares.

Before either of them were truly ready to face it, the day had arrived.


"Ready to go girls?" Mary jumped slightly at the sound of their mother's voice calling from downstairs. "Yea mom, we'll be right there." She heard Ib call back. Mary turned her attention back to rifling through her drawers, but didn't get very far when a knock came at her door. "Hey Mary, are you ready?" Ib asked from outside Mary's room. "I'll be down in a second." She said. "I just need to find something."

Mary waited for at least ten seconds after hearing Ib leave before she returned to the task in front of her. Where is it? She knew that it was here somewhere, she had made sure to hide it away in case of an emergency. Reaching into the back of her drawer she felt her hand brush against the object she had been searching for. Mary let out a small gasp she closed her fingers around its wooden handle. Slowly, almost reverently, she drew it forward and into view of the world for the first time in nine years.

Her pallet knife.

The design of the knife was simple enough, but it, like everything else from the gallery, was far more dangerous than it looked. The edge was sharp enough to slice through flesh with ease. The tip was honed to the perfect thickness. It was wide enough to put weight behind a stab, but thin enough to slip between someone's ribs and into the vulnerable organs beneath.

Simply holding it in her hands brought back images that Mary would have preferred to forget. Images of dark hallways, twisted paintings, and above it all; a young girl whose desperation for a chance to escape drove her to kill.

She wanted nothing more than to put it back in the drawer to remain buried indefinitely, but some instinct warned her that she would need it very soon.

Stashing the knife in the sleeve of her green dress, Mary took one last look around her room to ensure she hadn't missed anything important. Once she was satisfied that everything was in order she began the walk to the car where her mother and sister were waiting. It was going to be a very long day.


Ib sat silently in the back seat of the family car. With their father out picking up a cake for her birthday, it was just her, Mary, and their mother. The car ride to the gallery was far quieter than it had been the first time, and Ib began to wonder if she had made the right decision. Sneaking a glance at Mary she saw that the blonde girl was staring out the window into the distance while unconsciously gripping her arm.

She knows something. Ib thought to herself. It had been the only explanation Ib could think of for Mary's breakdown when she had announced her plans. 'What would you think of me…?' Ib shuddered slightly at the implications that question had held. What could Mary possibly have done to make her think that Ib would turn on her? And how was it linked to the gallery?

Ib then realized that her mother had been talking. "Oh, sorry what was that mom?" She asked. "I was just saying that I think this was a great idea Ib. Geurtena's work has such a lifelike feel to it." Her mother said smiling at the memory of their last visit. Ib couldn't help but notice how Mary tensed at the word 'lifelike'.

"And there it is." Her mother commented as they pulled into the parking lot. Ib could only stare at the building in wonder. It certainly wasn't the largest or the most vibrant, but it filled her with a sense of nostalgic awe that she could hardly describe.

"Hmm. It's certainly a lot emptier than it was." Her mother mentioned as they entered. "That's fine." Ib said. "Just means we won't have to crowd in with a bunch of people to see the paintings." As they approached the sign in counter Ib noticed Mary standing far closer to her than was strictly necessary with an expression on her face that reminded Ib of a terrified child.

"You girls go on ahead; I can take care of signing us in. Just make sure to stick together." Ib quickly thanked her mother and dragged the reluctant Mary into the pale white hallways of the gallery.

For a good half hour the two of them stalked up and down the exhibits. Each time Ib would stop to observe the paintings, and each time she would feel nothing more than a faint recollection of their past visit. Abyss of the Deep, Death of the Individual, Lady in Red, none of them seemed to do more than catch her attention for a moment. Her frustration only increased as she realized that they were running out of paintings to look at, and she still hadn't found anything.

Maybe the one I'm looking for is in another section. She didn't want to think of the possibility that she had been wrong, and this whole ordeal was for nothing. While Ib was trying to decide where to look next she felt a tug on her sleeve. "I-Ib…?" Mary ventured "Could we stop for a second? I r-really need to use the bathroom."

Ib really didn't want to stop now. Not when she still had so many questions unanswered. But she was not cruel enough to force Mary to go on like this. Sighing, she conceded. "All right I think there's a bathroom back this way."

Mary let out a groan of relief as they neared the restroom. "I'll just be a second ok? Wait for me here. Don't wander off!" Ib just nodded as Mary entered. Once she had gone inside Ib turned her attention back to the problem at hand. Is there a section that we haven't checked yet? Maybe Mary will have an idea. I'll have to ask her when she fin- wait MARY!

Ib had to resist the temptation to smack herself in the face. How had she been so stupid? It was painfully obvious that Mary knew something, and yet Ib had been so set on finding the answers that asking her hadn't even crossed her mind. As soon as she comes out of that bathroom… Ib thought to herself. I'm getting something out of her.

With her goal in mind Ib leaned against the wall in a more comfortable position and waited.

"Ib…"

Letting out a yelp, Ib jumped and spun around to see who had snuck up behind her. Disturbingly enough the hallway behind her was totally empty. "Hello?" She called.

"Ib…"

There it was again. Try as she might Ib couldn't find the source of the mysterious voice.

"Come back to us Ib…"

"Whose there?" she called out, feeling a tingle of fear run up her spine.

"Come back to the gallery..."

Ib's breath caught in her throat as she heard those words. The same words that she had heard in the dream that led her here. Her first instinct was to dash towards the voice and find out what this was all about, but her promise to Mary kept her rooted to the spot.

On one hand, the voice was the very thing she had been chasing this entire time. It was so close that Ib could hardly stand it. On the other however, she had told Mary that she would wait for her, and she knew how much Mary hated being alone. When they were young she had refused to be parted from Ib for even a moment. They had done everything together; eating, sleeping, bathing, attending school… Even now Ib knew that being stuck alone was one of Mary's worst fears.

Ib could only stand there as her inner turmoil raged throughout her body. In the end, Ib's need for answers won out. I'll just be gone for a second. Ib thought. Mary probably won't even notice. Trembling with anticipation, she set off after the voice.

It wasn't long before her mysterious guide led her to a section of the gallery that she hadn't explored yet.

"Come back to us…"

Ib could hardly believe her eyes. In front of her was the same painting from her dreams. The Fabricated World. In an almost trance-like state she began to approach the massive image that dominated the wall it had been hung on.

"Come back to us…"

Her heart raced a mile a minute as she reached out to touch the surface of the canvas.

"Come back…"

Her blood thundered through her veins as a cold sweat broke out on her arms.

"Come back…"

"IB!" She jerked back from the painting at the sound of her sister's scream. Turning, she saw Mary standing at the end of the hall with a look of pure horror plastered on her face. Ib opened her mouth to apologize for leaving her at the bathroom. To give some kind of excuse for her sudden departure, but before she could…

The lights began to flicker…

And all hell broke loose.

If only two of us could leave, who would you choose?

Ib collapsed as the wave of memories hit her like a freight train.

You must be another person from the gallery who got trapped here right? You even have a rose just like mine.

Screaming filled the hallway and it took Ib a moment to realize that it was coming from her own mouth.

I like red, but I like blue even better...

She desperately clawed at her scalp in an attempt to slow the unrelenting rush of images that had been buried for so long.

Garry! Please Garry don't go! Don't leave me here alone!

Garry!

GARRY!

Ib's whole world seemed to collapse. Garry! She had forgotten about Garry. How could she possibly have forgotten about him? He had helped her… fought for her…

Died for her…

"Ib come on we have to leave NOW!" Mary shouted as she grabbed Ib's hand. Mary! The memories of her adopted sister came back to her in a rush. Ib could see the young Mary plucking the blue petals off of Garry's rose. Each one stealing his life away, dragging him down into the cold embrace of death.

Violently, Ib ripped her hand from Mary's grasp. "Ib…?" She gasped. Staggering to her feet Ib took off running. "Ib! Wait!" Terror latched its icy claws into Ib's heart as she ran. She had no idea where she was going, only that it was away from the painted child behind her.

Sprinting through the gallery, Ib rushed past the paintings she had passed on her way in. Risking a look over her shoulder she saw Mary far behind her trying to keep up with her headlong charge. As Ib ran past the Abyss of the Deep something caught her foot and caused her to crash to the ground with a shout of dismay.

Twisting around on the ground Ib caught site of the offending object, and nearly blacked out from the sheer horror of it. Firmly clamped on her ankle was a twisted mass of felt and leather formed into the shape of a human arm sprouting from the Abyss of the Deep. Before she could react the arm began dragging her in.

"NO!" Ib screamed, desperately grabbing at the sleek tiles beneath her in an attempt to escape the yawning maw she was being pulled into. "IB!" She felt a hand latch onto her own as she was dragged onto the edge of the hole. "Hang on!" Mary shouted as she began trying to pull Ib out. Caught in the middle of a life-or-death tug-of-war Ib could do little other than pray Mary was strong enough to save her.

As Mary pulled with all her strength against the twisted parody of a limb, Ib felt as though she was being torn in half. For a brief moment of hope it looked as though Mary might be able to pull her back, but that hope turned to blind panic as the arm from the depths gave one final yank and pulled her out of Mary's grasp and down into the abyss.


Mary could only stare in disbelief as her sister was dragged away. She knew all too well where the abyss led, and where Ib was going to end up.

Her instincts screamed at her to run, to go back to the painting and escape while she still could. If she went back to the Fabricated World she knew her chances of getting out a second time were all but non-existent.

Even so, there was no way she could leave Ib behind. Mary loved her with all her heart. Her first friend, her first family member. Even after she had fled as though Mary had become evil incarnate she knew that going back without Ib wasn't an option. She was going back together, or not at all.

Taking a shuddering breath to work up her nerve, Mary jumped.


Shuffling through the dark hallways of its home, a hideous mass of unidentifiable materials worked its way towards the one who had given it life. It shambled into a massive room lined wall to wall with paintings. Each one a different rendition of Geurtena's work.

The creature paid them no mind as it set eyes on its destination. Its master sat on a gilded throne, the only piece of furniture in the entire room. His eyes were fixed on the three paintings directly in front of him.

The beast moved forward until it was directly behind his seat and waited. It knew better than to speak out of turn. After several seconds the seated man gave a single command; "report."

"They… are… here…" The creature rasped with a voice like sandpaper that issued from the slit of its mouth. The man's lips curled up in a mirthless smile.

"Finally"


For all the Garry fans out there, rest assured that he will be making his entrance in the next chapter. However it probably won't be in the way you might expect.