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Check out my fanfic named "Entrapped".
Summary: Madness is not a state of mind. Madness is a place. What happens when Harry stumbles into it and gets trapped there? A Harry Potter version of Alice in Wonderland but a thousand shades darker.
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During his first moments of consciousness, Harry expected to find himself in that kitchen again and see Tom standing in front of him. The childishness of his fear dwindled quickly as he realized he was in bed.
The fear returned though when his senses kickstarted and he realized that he was soaked to the skin and the dampness had soaked through to the sheets as well. Pain unbidden and unwelcome originated from his feet and when he looked down to check them he nearly let out a scream. The white sheets were crimson where his feet rested. For a moment, he believed that he had really walked through that blood covered kitchen floor and that blood had followed him out of his dreams but no. He sat up straight and checked the soles of his feet which were cut and badly injured.
Harry felt confused…beyond confused. There had to be a logical explanation for this. Taking a deep breath, he tried to remember the last thing that had happened to him before he had fallen asleep. Bella…He had been talking to her and fallen asleep next to her on the bench. He clearly remembered wearing shoes then. How had he gotten in bed? How had he gotten so soaked? How the hell had he gotten his feet injured so badly? A dark thought began swirling inside his head and Harry began trying his damndest to avoid it.
The muscles of his neck and shoulders ached with fatigue. His gaze drifted down to his hands and saw something purple peeking from underneath his sleeve. He pulled off his shirt with trepidation, looked down at his bare arms and frowned. Purple, angry bruises laced around his wrists and forearms. They'd come upon him like a tormentor in the night and followed him back into the world of the waking.
What the hell was going on? Harry couldn't quite look away from the bruises and noticed that their pattern resembled chains. The dark thought grew impossible to ignore and he crawled to the corner of the bed and looked down at the floor. Sure enough, there was a whole trail of bloody footprints on the stone floor leading to the bed from the entrance of the room. It confirmed his deepest fear and he collapsed back on the bed.
He'd been sleepwalking. He'd really been sleepwalking. If that wasn't a sign of insanity then he didn't know what was. He shivered involuntarily and pulled the duvet over his head as he curled himself into a ball. His eyes closed for a brief moment and his vision was clouded by the image of Tom cocooned in that terrible darkness. He didn't deserve it. Tom didn't deserve it. He wasn't evil. He'd just been protecting himself. Harry clutched the damp covers as his heartbeat ratcheted up a notch. He hadn't been dreaming. He'd gone back to the cavern. Harry shuddered again as he thought of the corpses in that black lake. He was soaked that meant he had been in the lake. How…How had he gotten away from them?
The duvet provided him with no warmth and he shivered again. He needed to get up and change out of these clothes. Harry couldn't help but admire his own indifference. He had just witnessed four brutally slaughtered corpses and was still able to function normally. Maybe he really had gone insane? Maybe Voldemort was counting on him to die from insanity. Harry swung his legs off the bed and tested his feet. A sharp stab of pain shot up from his feet and through his spine as soon as he attempted to put his weight on them. Perfect…just bloody perfect.
Harry took the support of the side table and hauled himself up cautiously without putting too much weight on his feet. He hobbled to the wardrobe and pulled out the first dry pair of clothes he could get his hands on. He threw them on the bed and barely managed to haul himself to the bathroom where he took the support of the sink.
He wasn't surprised to see that he looked as exhausted as he felt when he caught his reflection. Dark bags hung under his eyes as signs of a sleepless night. His damp raven black hair was stuck to the sides of his head. The paleness of his skin was alarming. His colour was drained and gaunt, as if his heart had stopped beating lifetimes ago.
He turned on the hot water faucet and stripped off his pants. A gasp escaped his lips when he noticed the bruises that looped around his calves and reached down to his ankles. The pattern was the same. Chains. When the bath tub was half way full, he stepped in and rested his head against the edge of the bath tub. The warm water felt amazing. His eyes closed blissfully but then he began to shake. Behind his eyelids swirled visions of dark, purple serpents, twisting and squeezing his arms, waist, neck. They cut air off from his lungs, squeezed his throat. Their colours swayed from mulberry to black.
The darkness was closer, preparing to swallow him. It was clawing at his insides, screaming and wailing. It wanted him so badly, he could almost taste its need. And oddly enough he needed it back. he needed those purple swirls of smoke and fog to fill his lungs, to wrap around his heart and slow its rapid beating. His breathing came hard, fast, and uncontrolled. Suddenly there wasn't enough air in the universe to fill his lungs. And then, just as quickly as the vision had come, it left him.
The tiles on the bathroom wall were off-white, and he held on to that fact as best he could. He wasn't in some dark, dank place. He wasn't in that cavern. He wasn't in that blood-soaked kitchen. He was in his room, in a bathtub, staring at the off-white tiles.
Harry couldn't stop the trembling though. The warm water wasn't soothing anymore. Finally, he dragged himself out of the bath tub and grabbed one of the towels, which hung on the rack next to the door, and dried off. The rough feel of a towel against bare skin brought him back to where he was. He staggered back into the room and put on the dry clothes with extreme difficulty. His body ached like hell. Slowly he dragged off the damp covers from the bed and collapsed on it.
He lay there on his side, his eyes staring vacantly at the wall as tremors continued to rake through his body. He didn't dare blink, afraid that whatever had happened to him in the bath tub would happen again.
Check out my fanfic named "Elusion". Let me know what you guys think. Just follow the link below or visit my profile. Looking forward your feedback
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Check out my other fanfic named "No Escape." If you haven't checked it out yet. Just visit my profile or click on the link below
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If you have the time, then check out my new Harry Potter fanfic labelled "Desperation" Just visit my profile or click on the link below,
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