A/N: I do not own anything, anyone, or anywhere associated with the Labyrinth. I am poor and am only writing this because I am clearly quite insane. Please don't sue...
A Labyrinth Cursed
Sarah was about to turn out the lights when the fairy fluttered past her window.
The tiny creature hovered, her tiny fists pounding on the glass, while Sarah stared, trying to decide whether or not she was dreaming. It would have made sense to assume it was a dream; she'd been working hard this last week. Too hard, Karen had insisted. And that much was also true; she'd been running on coffee, nerves, and three hours of sleep a night. Seeing that ethereal creature outside her window while she thought she was awake could easily be her body's way of telling her to slow down.
The fairy shimmered, pressing up against the glass, and suddenly passed through as though there had been nothing but air between her and the room. All at once, Sarah was staring her dead in the eye, the tiny fists waving frantically a mere centimeter from her face. A tiny, tiny voice squeaked something at her, and she gestured to the window.
"Slow down," Sarah said, straining to hear, "I can't understand you."
A litany of chirps and whistles followed, and if Sarah didn't know better, she'd swear the little beast gave her the finger. She glanced at the window, her tiny eyes suddenly round with fear, and darted past Sarah's head.
All at once, her breath came in cold; she could see it in white, smoky clouds as she exhaled. The familiar roar of the furnace assured her the heat was still on, but the shiver that raced up her spine made her wonder.
"Surely I'm dreaming, " she said.
Her voice sounded loud and harsh and felt wrong; she was definitely awake. The smooth and now chilled wood floor beneath her bare feet was too real, too solid. She could make out every line in the woodgrain, every imperfection, every indentation. She could sense each beat of fairy wing, each tiny breath it took.
She could even hear the blood pulsing in her head, drumming in her ears. No dream was that real. She pulled her robe a little tighter around her. She dug her fingers into the soft fabric hoping for some kind of comfort as she took a step towards her window. The fairy screamed, fluttering at her ear, and she felt tiny fairy fists pulling at her hair.
The glass window panes shattered. A fierce, cold wind rushed past her, knocking her back and spraying the room with wood splinters and glass shards. Her hands rose on instinct, to protect her face even as pain streaked across her forearms, her chest, and her legs. A tiny voice cried out and she felt the tiny fairy bury herself in her long brown hair.
A sound rasped all around them, harsh and low, but more a growl than a voice.
She didn't want to look; she didn't want to see what waited beyond the darkness of her eyelids, but she could feel it creeping closer with a rage so tangible she could almost touch. Slowly, she forced her eyes to open.
Nothing was there.
The breath she'd been holding came out in a rush, and she almost relaxed. The lights had blown; it was dark, but somehow, she knew she was not alone. She felt a tugging at her hair, and the fairy whimpered. Glass and wood lay scattered across the floor, and where the window had been was a jagged, gaping hole.
The growl rumbled beside her, sending her heart into her throat and the fairy diving into the front pocket of her robe. She turned, stumbling backwards as she scanned the room for whatever had made the noise. Still, there was nothing.
"Who's there?" she demanded, "What do you want?"
Somehow, she kept her voice steady and strong as she challenged the darkness. The fairy trembled in her pocket. There was a bubbling in her stomach, nausea, and a cold fear; she felt it tightening around her, stealing her resolve. The silence stretched on, more sinister than the darkness; at once, she was turning to run. Her knees wobbled; her hands shook, but she caught hold of the door knob, twisting to make her escape.
Shadows danced across the surface of the door. As she twisted the door knob, a bit of the darkness lurched up to catch hold of her wrist. It was cold and damp and very real, latching on to her skin and pulling itself closer, spreading like a virus. She screamed and pulled back, tearing at the shadow to free herself, but it was sticky like glue. As she clawed at it, it spread, climbing onto her nails and slinking up her arm. No matter how hard she pulled and twisted, the thing merely tightened its hold.
In her pocket, she felt the fairy fluttering; she heard it shrieking something unintelligible. But whatever battle the fairy fought, Sarah could do nothing help. The inky shadow seemed to still her mind and eat away at her fears; it was as if it was a paralyzing venom in her bloodstream, numbing her body until...
She swayed as a wave of dizziness washed over her. The room blurred, coming in and out of focus; and little dots of colored light swam before her eyes. A voice called to her, pleading to be let in, urging like a lover. She couldn't fight it; the darkness crept over her eyes, blotting out her sight. She felt herself falling.
Falling...
