A/N: Sorry it took so long to update. I had the chapter handwritten, but I couldn't find the time to type it up. Anyway, be expecting chapter 11 soon. BTW, this is a very LONG chapter, and a lot of stuff happens in it. Please review, and I'll update ASAP!


Where Nightmares Thrive

Chapter Ten: To Be Broken

He heard her, even before he had returned. Her voice was sweet, beautiful, and melodic. "Frank…you need to come back to me…"

"Callie?"

He wasn't awake yet, he hadn't returned, but he had found his voice.

"It's me, Frank. I want you back…you need to wake up…There is something I must say to you…"

"Tell me now."

"I cannot. I yearn to look into your eyes once more, and to gaze upon your face as I reveal my heart to you."

Frank wanted to come back, but he could not. He was still confined in a space that was between life and death; good and evil; love and hate; sanity and insanity…dark and light.

"I can't."

"If you do not, you may never see my face again."

"I'm trying…"

Willing every ounce of his strength to come forth and course though his body, he forced his eyes open and hungrily set them upon the face of the girl he had loved for so long.

She looked into his eyes and he screamed louder than he ever had in his whole life at the horrendous sight before him.


Never had he felt so much pain. He had been gruesomely injured many times in his life—more often than not, due to foul play, so he was no stranger to pain.

Until now.

This was not a pain of this earth—it was supernatural, consuming, and demonic. It was a pain that would make anyone submit instantly and willingly to death. And that is what he yearned for more than anything—a sweet escape into the arms of death. But he could not die.

The emotional and mental torture was almost as bad as the physical pain. He was strong. He had always been tough and able to deal with anything life dealt out to him. And life had dealt a lot his way. He had been kidnapped and tortured almost to his breaking point. But he had never even been cracked. He had been shot, stabbed, and tormented until he had almost given in. But no one had ever been able to break him.

Until now.

He had started to crack the first time he had seen Iola and witnessed the hatred in her once-living eyes. His bravery and morale had continued to be chipped away as he heard the sni3de and uncaring remarks of his brother echoing endlessly through his head. And when he had found himself in the forsaken, dark place, being pursued by them, he knew that he was going to be broken. It would be inevitable.

The horrible truths that the evil spirits imitating his friends had revealed had brought him to the edge. He was pushed over into an unrelenting abyss of torment when he had felt the first rush of inhuman pain.

He had never wanted to give up and die. He was strong. He was tough. He was a fighter.

Until now.


The face was terrible, that of a demon. Unearthly hate and evil consumed it. It was demented and twisted, charred black by the flames of deceit. The eyes were red and dangerous, ready to kill.

Frank had thought he had heard Callie Shaw. He had thought he would awake to find out that this had all been a dream. Instead, he had woken back up into his nightmare.

The thing—the demon, monster, or whatever it was—had an abundance of white hair that slithered around its head, blowing in an eerie, ice-cold breeze that had appeared out of nowhere. Its body had no form or shape; it was just there. Frank couldn't comprehend it; he didn't want to.

It spoke, and Frank's heart nearly stopped when he heard its voice. Although it was laced with malice, despite, and deceit; lathered with the need for pain and agony, he recognized it.

"Thank you for coming back to me, Frank. I knew you would."

Callie.


The fire was spreading. It was inside of him, and he couldn't see it, but he could feel it, and he knew.

At first, he had thrashed around desperately, trying without effect to escape from the excruciating pain he was experiencing, but soon he became exhausted. He stopped moving. Now, he wouldn't have been able to move an inch of his body if he had tried. The pain grew worse.

He lay helpless on the icy floor and screamed for help, screamed for death. But no one answered his call. And Death would no oblige.


She touched his face. Her hands were colder than any substance on earth. He shivered. She drew her hand away, no emotion evident on her gruesome face.

"You disappoint me, Frank."

He struggled to move, to get away from the terrible apparition, but he could not. He was unable to take any control of his own body. He could barely breathe.

"Frank, we could have had so much together. We wanted to get married, didn't we, Frank?"

"Callie, why—?"

"We wanted to have children, to grow old together. We wanted to pass into eternity together, hand-in-hand; side-by-side."

"What are you—?"

"I always put you first, Frank. I spent every moment of the time I had with you. You were my comfort, my sweet escape. I wanted you to feel the same about me."

"I did—"

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" Her voice became deadly, her face, even more contorted and repulsive.

An edge still evident in her cold voice, she continued, "You had someone else, Frank Hardy. You had another person, to whom you would always look to first when you had a problem, before me, even."

"I never—"

"You had someone you always put before me, someone you loved more than me." There was spite in her voice that made a shiver go up his spine.

"I never had anyone but you," Frank insisted desperately. "You know you were the only one for me. You still are."

"LIAR!" the demon-Callie screamed.

"But…"

"Oh, I see," Callie crooned in a sickening mock sweetness. "You think I am talking about another woman, another girl." She shook her hideous head in fake amusement. "Naïve, naïve Frank. For someone so intelligent, you can be very dense. I cannot believe you haven't realized who I am talking about. I am sure that he feels the same way about me."

Suddenly, something the first demon he had encountered had said sprung into his mind. "Joe?" he gasped. "You're talking about Joe?"

"It took you long enough, didn't it, Frank?" she sneered.

"But I never—"

"No one else likes you either, Frank," Callie continued, a twisted pleasure in her voice.

"What do you mean?"

"Biff thinks you belong in a prep school. Vanessa thinks you're cruel to your brother. Iola blames you for her death, since you stopped Joe from saving her. Chet thinks you are a goody-goody that's too much of a know-it-all for your own good. And Joe…well, Joe thinks you are a bossy, obnoxious, tyrant. He thinks that you hate him, and he hates you for it."

Frank felt tears well up in his eyes. "No," he whispered. "It…it's not true. They never said—"

"They never had to say, Frank," Callie said in a soft, threatening voice. "It should have been obvious."

"But Joe—"

"Joe hates you, Frank. He wants you to die. We all do."

"No…"

"Yes. He wants you to perish forever. He has always wished that he didn't have a big brother to outshine him and still daddy's affection."

"That's not true…" But there was doubt in his voice and panic in his eyes.

A loud voice suddenly sounded throughout the house. It was him. "Break him now!"

A cruel smile lit up her lips. "Your brother is being tortured right at this very moment. Did you know that, Frank?"

His eyes grew wide with horror and a tear crawled down his ashen cheek. "No…"

"Yes. Ye is being burned from the inside out."

"No!"

"Yes. I wanted to do the same to you, but now I have a better idea. Instead of burning, you will freeze to death, starting from the inside. And finally, when he says that you and your brother are to die, you will exit this world in a torrent of pain and face the judgment you deserve."


~Emachinescat ^..^