Black lace. A chilling breeze.
The black lace seemed to dance upon the slight breeze, though the unsettling air made it impossible for my limbs to move. I wanted nothing more than to back away; the shrouded figure in black was the embodiment of all of my fears. I feared the darkness. I feared the darkness within others; the darkness within myself.
The shroud moved closer to me, and I could hear a raspy breathing. It called out to me with the sickly sweet voice of a woman I knew all too well. I felt its breath on my neck, my skin prickling all over. I felt panic rise in my chest. I wanted to scream, but I was still paralyzed. The creature seemed to recognize this and let out low giggle. It reached out to me, its hands covered with blood. The warm, sticky substance smeared across my cheeks as the shroud ran its fingers along my face. Still I could do nothing.
"Are you afraid, Dahlia?" It asked. I willed my lips to move, but they were frozen, just like every other part of me. The shrouded figure laughed once more. Those bloodstained hands reached up to where its face would be and began to remove some of the black lace. The lace, stained with that awful crimson, floated away on the breeze to reveal a face.
"You needn't fear me, Dahlia," my mother spoke to me. Some of the fears in my heart calmed themselves. She was smiling, her crimson curls danced in the breeze, and her soft brown eyes searched my face. "I'm here to comfort you, darling. Not to frighten you."
It was as though an invisible cord unraveled itself from around my body. Upon gaining the freedom to move my limbs, I ran into my mother's arms. Tears fell down my face as she ran her fingers through my hair. I no longer cared that they were dripping in blood; it must have been her own. She looked exactly the same as she had the night she was killed.
"Mother," I whispered, trying not to make my sobs too apparent. "I miss you, so."
"I know, dove," she whispered sweetly. "I miss you too. And your father. It isn't fair I had to leave," she said, her voice trailing off softly. She kissed the top of my head.
"I've found away to avenge you," I said, looking up into her face. Her features were clouded by shadow, giving my mother's soft face a frightening appearance. I continued on anyway. "I've traded my soul so yours can rest and Townnesend's will suffer endless torment."
My mother threw her head back and laughed darkly. I felt panic bubble back up. I had, perhaps, let my guard down too early. This creature was not my mother. It couldn't be.
When the creature faced me again, I was greeted by Townnesend's face instead of my mother's. Her eyes were glinting maliciously, inciting a fear within me I had never experienced before. I drew away from the woman, but she quickly caught me by the wrist. She tied my hands together with the black lace that she loved so much, the blood covering her skin painted my own.
"A demon cannot protect you from me," she said, whispering in my ear. "I have already succeeded in keeping you at bay for eight years. Now it is clear to me that you are nothing but a nuisance." I felt a stinging coolness at my neck. In the glimmering moonlight, I saw the shimmer of a knife. I struggled against my bonds, but only managed to cut myself on the knife pressed to my throat. Townnesend laughed at my futile attempts at escape.
"I have no qualms about getting rid of you for good, Dahlia darling," Townnesend lilted. She flashed me a poisonous smile. I released all of the volume my small lungs could muster, hoping that someone would hear me. Townnesend let me scream for a moment, relishing in my hopelessness. Then, the knife flashed. It buried itself in my stomach; a searing heat seemed to be pouring out of me.
"Idiot," she laughed as I collapsed to the ground. "If you hadn't stood in the way when I wanted your father, things would have turned out differently."
"You-" I tried to respond, but it felt as though the inside of my body was collapsing. I could not breathe. I could not move. I could only lie still on the ground.
"This is easier, though, I suppose," Townnesend sighed, bending over me. She slid the small knife out of my stomach. I stared in horror as I watched the deep scarlet pool around me. It was as though I was watching my own life leak out of my body. "You and your mother are out of my way for good."
Her knife came glinting toward my throat. The only thing I could do was shut my eyes tightly and pray it would be over soon.
My eyes snapped open. My stomach was on fire, as though the events in my dream had actually occurred and I was somehow, miraculously, alive. I glanced around. I was in one of the rooms in the guest house. The window was open and clear moonlight was flooding the room. The white curtains were fluttering in the soft breeze. I was crumpled on the floor, my bed yards away, warm arms enveloping me.
"You're safe, my lady," the demon purred. I felt that way, certainly, with the knowledge that he was here. "Perhaps it is fortunate that your room was not prepared thins evening. You'd have woken the whole household with your screams."
"I was screaming?" I asked, though I received the answer when I realized how scratchy my throat felt. It was odd; in my dream I hadn't managed to move or make hardly any sound. I held onto the demon's arms for a moment longer before standing and walking to the window. The cool breeze played across my skin and relaxed my tense muscles. "I apologize for waking you, doctor," I said, glancing over at the demon. He was still kneeling on the floor where I had left him, his eyes following my every move with concern.
"Would you like to discuss what was bothering you?" he asked. I scoffed and turned my attentions out the window. I was, frankly, embarrassed. The only thing I suffered from were night terrors. I hadn't developed them until shortly after my mother was murdered. They were infrequent and irregular at first, though once I arrived at Northwood, they happened almost nightly. Every dream was about Townnesend. She was the only consistent factor in my dreams. When Elizabeth arrived at Northwood, she was able to comfort me after my dream, and eventually they disappeared altogether.
"It was only a bad dream," I said. I was fifteen years old. I was too old to be having these sorts of dreams. Seeing Townnesend again must have triggered the dream and I knew I needed to stop these dreams somehow, but I wasn't about to let the demon believe that I was weak.
"It seemed to be much more than that, my lady," the demon said, rising to his feet. He joined me at the window. "As your doctor," he said with a smile, "I think it is wise to discuss such things. I'm only here to help you."
"It was about Townnesend," I said, tears springing to my eyes. My mouth was spilling a confession before I could stop myself. I explained how I used to dream Townnesend would kill me. I explained that it was a thing of the past, really, but had returned. I didn't mention, however, that this dream had been increasingly more vivid then the dreams I'd had when I was a child. I sobbed and shook with fear, and the demon held me in his arms all the while. I had calmed down after several minutes, apologizing profusely. The demon scooped me up in his arms and set me gently down on my mattress.
"There is no need to apologize for your past, my lady," the demon whispered as he pulled my covers up to my chin. "Your past is what makes you who you are."
"I'm just a loon," I sighed. "A loon who everyone abandons."
"I will never leave your side, my lady," the demon said, bowing slightly. The moonlight shone across his pale skin. "You should do your best to sleep."
Obediently, I rolled over on my side and closed my eyes. I felt more secure about returning to sleep knowing that I had my demon by my side.
Unfortunately, the dreams persisted. I was awakened two more times that night. Each time, the demon was there. He did not look tired, only patient and concerned. It was miraculous that he was not cross with me; any sane being would have been.
He lifted me in his strong arms, returning me to the mattress once more. I sat, still quivering, sleep seeming several thousand years away. The demon's presence wasn't enough to calm my nerves anymore.
"What did you do in Northwood to calm your dreams?" the demon asked, sitting on the side of my bed. "Surely there is something I can do to help." His golden eyes searched my face, and I could feel my cheeks heating up. The methods I used at Northwood could not be used here. It was hardly appropriate.
On nights like these, when my dreams were especially horrid, Elizabeth would lie next to me. It was soothing, having a friend nearby. Sometimes she would sing me to sleep. Sometimes she would talk to me until I fell asleep. Sometimes she would just hold my hand and assure me everything would be alright. That was at Northwood. Elizabeth was my friend. I was home now. I was with a demon. I could not ask him to lie with me. I doubted he would.
"I cannot ask you to do what was done at Northwood," I said, looking away. "It would not be proper." My cheeks were surely a deep crimson color. My head felt like it would explode with pressure. I was certain that, were the demon to lie by my side, my fears would be erased. Yet, I could not ask such a thing. It was not proper.
"I care little for propriety, my lady," the demon said softly. "I care only for your safety and comfort."
"I had a friend at Northwood," I said slowly. "She knew about my dreams. On the nights when they were the worst, she'd lay by my side until I fell asleep. Eventually, the dreams disappeared. I will not ask you to lie with me, but I will ask you to stay."
"I'll not leave your side, my lady," the demon repeated with a smile. He remained seated on the side of my mattress, taking my hand gently in his. The contact was comforting. With his touch my nerves were calmed once more. I crawled closer to him and rested my head on his lap. Surely this would be more appropriate than to lie with a demon. I feared that if I were too far away from my demon, my dreams would return.
The demon stiffened at our contact at first, but gradually began to relax. I felt my eyelids begin to droop. I had one burning question for the demon, however, that I was only reminded of when my fatigue returned.
"Claude," I began, his human name still sounding odd on my tongue, "Do demons ever sleep?" I had been curious, as he did not appear at all worn out even at this late hour.
"We don't have to," he replied simply. "The darkest times are the times we're the most awake."
A/N: Oh my goodness. I feel like I haven't updated in forever! I guess it really hasn't been too long, though. I've had this chapter sitting in my head for a while, to be perfectly honest. (This is the result of my dream journal project for psychology. We've been studying about dreams and such, so I guess all that studying is beginning to affect my imagination!) This fic is becoming one of my longest, and I must say, I'm pretty okay with that ;) I'm hoping to pick up the pace from here on out, as I've finally figured out what's going to happen to all my characters (No, I won't give you hints)!
Once again, thanks to all of my wonderful reviewers for their support! It really means a lot to me to get feedback! Thanks too, to those who have added me to their favorites or their alerts C:
