Chapter 4:
The morning that illuminated her room had long lost its magic. For years, Violet had felt nothing at the dawn of a new day. It was always sure to be devoid of anything extraordinary. Not that that was any different now, of course, but death had opened her eyes to a whole new layer of the world. She could see the dark undercurrents, the grey shadows pervading and haunting everything.
Death let her fully understand life.
It was something she had felt the day before in the old office, and it was something that was in the room with her all night. In the corner of her room, like a beast watching her; outside her window like someone tapping on it, begging to be let in.
She not only sensed it: it was something every part of her perceived; something her senses were awake to, were sharpened to. Something she knew was hiding a grim secret.
Perhaps she was just highly-strung. The crow last night had put her on edge. All night long, the creaking branches of the tree outside her window sounded too much like cawing for her to feel comfortable.
So, when morning finally broke it, if nothing else, it chased away the shadows with its glaring light. And Violet was sincerely glad about that.
Despite the brightness of it, the colours of everything seemed dimmed and faintly grey in hue.
Violet's anticipation could better be described as an anxiety to prove to herself that there was nothing wrong with the book. But also that she still had a grip on sanity.
So, the moment she woke, her eyes were drawn to the book lying on her bedroom floor. She sat up in bed and stepped out of bed with one leg, wondering whether she should really read it
She never really had a choice, though. Whatever it was that had first drawn her to the book, its magnetic pull overpowered her once again. So before she fully knew or understood what she was doing, it had once again landed in her hands. She dazedly opened it, only half-aware that she was actually awake. Once again her fingers touched the skin-like texture of the cover. Her fascination mingled with disgust and a faint panic made itself noticeable at the back of her mind. Violet wanted to throw the book out the window and devour it, all at once.
Yet all thoughts went straight from her mind when she saw the book's first page. It looked handwritten, and from the fading splotches of ink on the edges of the pages, it seemed to be even older than she had previously imagined it to be. The book's title had been written out once again. Its sub-heading "Of Shadows and Creatures and Souls" made Violet raise an eyebrow. She had been freaking herself out over what? A story book? What bullshit.
She flicked through the pages. They were all handwritten. Whoever had made the book must have spent ages on it. The pages were large and numerous, the writing small and squeezed together. On certain pages the author had written along the margins, sentences flowing in all directions. There were several drawings, only in black ink, yet alive with shape and shadows. Violet felt herself being pulled in. The animal heads of strange creatures looked her in the eye and a spider person beckoned to her with all eight of its arms. Girls stood before mirrors, seeing the future and the past and strange mists laid themselves over hills, where children had gathered to twist their arms and legs in strange dances.
The writing was strange, yet familiar. She could make sense of the words, yet the meaning of the sentences was lost on her. The letters all ran together. She started to lose her grip on the book as her hands became slick with sweat. A painful sensation beneath her temples made Violet screw shut her eyes. In her mind she could still see the women with their swirling shawls that they wore so long they trailed behind them as they moved. Their whispers began separately, but joined in a chorus. As they came together, their shawls whirled through the air and were blown from their faces as unseen dancers joined them.
Violet found herself shaking. She tried to will her eyes to open, but something else was stronger than her. There was a light rush of air as something moved past her. She heard its tapping footsteps first on the floor, then appearing to move up the wall on the far end of her room and settling down on the ceiling overhead.
By then her room was shaking with her and she felt as if she was being turned upside down, with fingers as light as air tracing her body, while her mind got hazy from the blood flowing into her head. She was unable to move a muscle, her eyes were still shut. Violet had never felt so defenceless in her life. Never had she been so utterly terrified. The time people had broken into her house to re-enact a murder that had once happened there seemed a joke in comparison. The threat then had been human. This, however, whatever it was that was circling her, most certainly wasn't.
Violet cursed the day she had found the book and she cursed the book for existing. The moving shadow in her room had been joined by others. One of them leant in to whisper something in her ear. Her breath and heartbeat quickened. She was breathing in and out so quickly that there was no time to complete either of the actions fully. The first thing she felt was her breath stop. The next how her heart became limp in her chest and her fingers froze, no longer being warmed by her blood, which all seemed to move into her head. And the last thing Violet thought before her brain gave up, was that she thought she could hear those things cackling. Everything after was black.
Violet sat up with a start. She once again found herself in bed. Her fingers tingled and her head pounded. Her ears were filled with the sound of rushing blood as her heart tried to regain its normal pace. The first weak rays of sunlight of the day pushed their way between her curtains to streak the floor.
Her thoughts were a jumble. The book lay open on the floor, where it had probably slipped out of her hands. That, however, was the only proof she had for herself, that what she had just experienced was not just a dream. Everything else seemed to indicate the opposite. No time had passed, though clearly Violet had felt it. She woke up at the same time for the second time that morning. It was as if she had never read the book.
Her hands trembled, when she looked at them and she realised that so was the rest of her. The T-Shirt she slept in clung to her body, wet with sweat. She went to her wardrobe to find something else to wear. Her knees gave in underneath her a few times. When she had finally made it to the wardrobe, her reflection in the mirror that was stuck onto it showed her a pale girl with black rings under her eyes. Violet leant back, only to immediately wince in pain when her back touched the wall. She tried to take of her shirt, but it stuck to her skin, making her whimper trying to tear it off. Bringing it over her head she saw dried red marks on the back. She tensed up, imagining a light draught moving past her. Slowly Violet turned her back to the mirror, not quite knowing what to expect or think. A sickening weight hit her stomach at the sight of her back. There were light scratches all over it. What stood out, though, was a large diamond shape that seemed to have been cut into her skin. At each of its corners there was a letter. Starting with an 's' at the top, followed by a 'u', 'p' and 'k'.
The T-Shirt slid from her hands and landed in a heap on the floor. Her eyes locked with those in her reflection, only to move a little to the left, where she saw the window through the gap in the curtains. Weird splatters covered it. Like in a trance, Violet walked to the window. She stood in front of it, before she had realised she was moving. Carefully, with a presentiment of something she drew one curtain to the side.
Two beady eyes stared right at her. A beak torn open in a silent caw touched the glass. There was not much more to see. What had painted her window red was the blood of the crow, the head of which was placed on her window ledge. A fat fly settled on the crow's head. Others soon joined it, as they rubbed their legs together, destroying what death had taken, while she broke down screaming.
"Go away, go away go away go away away away away…"
When he heard her scream Tate was at Violet's door in an instant. He was always somewhere near her room. He didn't know why or how. Most of the time he walked around the house, but he never failed to wind up at her door. He knew he couldn't ever pass through there again. Violet would tell him to go away and he would be forced to do as she said. That was also the case then. Tate stood at her door with his hand on the doorknob. But he heard her screaming for him to go away.
She had seen him. She knew he was watching her. Way to go- seeming like a fucking creep.
Tate banged his fists on the door. A scream of rage escaped his mouth. She would never let him in again. She would never love him again. And he- he would never stop loving her. His one redeeming quality had been his love for her and now he was forced to let the darkness swallow the little light he had experienced; the only thing that had in death reminded him of what life had been- or should have been.
His knuckles left red marks on the wall as he pushed them into it over and over again. He hit until he could feel his bones splinter and push through the skin on his hands, and even then Tate couldn't stop himself.
He would crush his hands until there was nothing left. He would crush his whole body. What little difference it would make.
As quickly as Tate had appeared in the corridor leading to Violet's room he disappeared again. Where to was a mystery even to him. He melted into the shadows. Into some place between this world and another, where he was alone in the everlasting embrace of the impenetrable darkness around him. In a place where there was no sound, no smell, nothing to feel- nothing of all those things which made the world the haven for life. There he would sit for hours, which felt like days and days that felt like minutes. There was no time there. Time was a concept for the living and those who pretended they were still alive. He was beyond that. He had been killed all over again and this time he had truly died.
A/N: I realise it has been ages since I last posted a chapter. My life has just been so stressful lately and I am terribly sorry I haven't been able to write much. But now I will try to carry on with and finish this story. Thank you for the follows, the reviews, etc. I appreciate them a lot. xx
