A/N:Before any of you read, the I've made VERY small changes on every chapter. Sometimes I've just italicized them. From now on, I'll give short reruns, clarification and analysis for the previous chapter on the beginning of every chapter because this isn't just any story. This is a psychological one. Which means confusion, intricate vocabulary, and inappropriate themes for some readers. I'll give warnings though.

Moving on:

The prologue is in, as you've noticed, a third POV. Which means an unknown character makes an appearance by slaughtering civilians in order to make a statement of intimidation and impending warning to the mayor of the village from an organization. The mayor fails to take responsibility and simply runs away from the murderer who is revealed to be a little girl with a gruesome obsession with blood. Before his death, the mayor realizes the little girl looks like a princess with a haunted look in her eyes. *hint hint not really* with SILVER hair and RED eyes. She makes a name for herself as the Bloody Swan for her white attire and marking of her victims in this event. Possibilities of her real identity can vary.


Chapter 1: Imprisonment

There is a reason for everything.

Most people find no reason to believe in such a thing. They find it sinful. If there was a reason for everything, then that automatically makes us animals. This led to the belief that if it were true, then we are motivated for ourselves. We regress to greed, envy, pride, and self-maintenance. As long as we are alive, we want to continue to live, to survive. Everything else does not matter. It is an inalienable process of selfish, unnecessary will to breathe.

But no one wants this origin. We do not want to be seen as creatures full of sin. We have to redeem ourselves somehow. There doesn't have to be a reason. It could be fate. It could be karma. It could be God.

That's how we diverge ourselves from reality.

So there are many branches of our views. We either believe in a religion, or we just find the need to search for answers. Discovery, expectations, all names of curiosity lead us to something else. Something entirely different, something that we believe is an actual, experimental reason for our origins, for our motivations, for our environment, for our situations.

Logic is born. Numbers take place of worship. Percentages and statistics contribute to the facts, to the timeline of our lives. There is a reason behind a reason. An effect to affect. A cause to fall. The domino to the hour. All the way down to the microscopic molecule of the surface of the Earth.

But we seal things. We find it significant to hide certain discoveries to ourselves, which leads to the concept of superiority and inferiority because we know things that others do not, because such things are better kept secret, that there is a need for security for specific kinds of people that do not have the necessary mentality to pull off an understanding to a degree. There are dangerous objects in the world. We should only keep it to ourselves because if the information is leaked, then chaos would indubitably follow right after. Such reason is unknown to people. Such reason delves deeper into our own minds.

Then there are those that have no reason to care, the people that find no care to believe in reason for everything or the idea that there is such a thing. We only obey and follow, listen and imprint, know and teach. The ones who don't bother to think any more than the basics.

"What are you in for?"

Hark was the most ruthless prison in the entire continent. It was meant for the insane, or in nicer terms, the mentally handicapped. The person confined was either a criminal or in the process of being one; they are trapped in inescapable clothing when released to the outside world, and free to move in the small walls behind metal bars. It was unique from normal institutions. Prisoners did not face each other. Their rooms were facing the fence miles away from their person. The building, if one would even call it that, favored height than length. Rooms were aligned back to back and side to side. The double aisle was stacked. The guards and doctors climbed stairs every time to put prisoners back in or out. The newcomers were the most unfortunate for the fact that they would receive the highest rooms. The rooms that were the most isolated and perhaps, the coldest places in the planet.

I was in one of those rooms. Arms wrapped tightly by the white collared uniform, I mechanically walked into the empty space that was my new home. I was only pushed lightly because of my cooperation, otherwise the guard showed no mercy to my treatment. When I stood in the middle of the room, I didn't know what to do. There was nothing to do, especially in a bare cage. After a few seconds, I realized that I was left under the mercy of my own was why when I leaned on the wall and faced the setting light of bright yellow that, strangely enough, illuminated the sky with pure red and fluffy orange clouds, I was expecting a silent night. A night without words into my ear, just an invisible hum, not the sardonic one muffled behind.

I only stirred slightly, trying not to be disturbed. I shouldn't be hearing another voice, especially not one that was so close. The walls were supposed to be thick enough to trap all noise from the other side; the soundproof glass in front only served as absolute security from sound.

But then there was a knock.

"You can hear me, right?"

Jumping away from the back, I looked up to the tiny opening of a window. There, I saw it. A lone red eye, a color that glowed, stared back at me between the thick pillars. They crinkled up in amusement at my reaction. "Paranoid much?"

I swallowed, feeling it hard to do when I did, "Who–"

"Let's not get into pleasantries," The person interrupted, "We're not civil, after all."

It was hard to take it seriously. The situation was downright absurd. I shouldn't be talking to an eye on the other side of my prison wall. When I heard of my arrest, I was expecting the rest of my life to be in solitude.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" They said. "You're not looking good in my book so far."

"So far?" I asked, unconsciously walking towards the ruby eye. The solid red color rolled down in order to trace my movements, quickly looking back up when confirmed as nothing.

"Yeah, you're quiet, and you're paranoid. Traits like that automatically make you irrational. It's one step to the white room."

One step away from the rough cement of the wall, I blinked at the red eye. There was no reason to be scared, no reason to let their words ingrain themselves into my mind. Listen and move on, that's all I had to do. It was just another sound in the background. "I see."

It brought the question right back, "So what are you in for?"

I turned my head, cheek facing the accusing eye of the wall. There was nothing else to see, just another repetition. I fidgeted. The wind was coming. The breeze danced freely on my skin and created bumps. I tried to curl myself even more but to no avail.

"I don't know." Instead of making a sound of annoyance or disbelief, it hummed at my vague response. "What about you?"

The lone eye crinkled again, only instead of amusement speckled in that orb, cynical humor shadowed it instead. "I killed someone important."

My legs trembled, bones practically grinding against one another. I lifted my foot, pants riding up, and then back down. Switch. Down. Switch. Up. A rebelling strand of hair fell between my eyes; I didn't bother to move it. "Why?"

For a second, I thought I said the wrong thing. It was like only one feature of the face was the complete edition. It was contemptuous, ratifying, simply an array of emotions that didn't find content in their current situation. If I was in their place, I would probably feel that way too. Nobody wants to be an eye on the wall. It was rather degrading.

After the long pause, the eye finally responded, lids falling halfway. It was ironic when it closed and opened again, changing into another color, one that was soft and comforting. It was the exact opposite of the bloody red that watched me in the dark.

"I don't know."

Such a beautiful blue color.


It was funny when the world kept revolving. There was no end to a day, just a simple transformation and revision. The sky was a blank piece of paper for the sun. It sheathed itself under every color, refusing to stay white. That was the job of the clouds.

Today, though, there were no clouds. It left me nearly speechless when I realized how vast the sky was. It created a strong urge within to reach up. I knew the impossibility of my desire, but that's what desires are. They're impossibilities. They're the wishes that make us into greedy little kids. Once we achieve it, they're no longer desires. No, that was wrong. They're still desires, but they're uncatchable. They don't disappear, merely move on. They mimic a compelling necessity, urging us to go on and take what we perceive as ours. Only those with enough thoughts hesitate, but once they receive pleasurable words from another, the brief pause disappears, and they're just like the others.

But we believe that no matter the reason, it is still wrong. We must not fall into temptation. We must not lust over such trivial things.

So how do we avoid it?

There are numerous ways to distract us and sway us away from a desire, but there is nothing that will make us completely avoid it. For one, there is a trace in our minds that echo our wants. It applies to daily survival. It is connected to our own body who wants food, drinks, warmth, and touch. Eventually, there is a creation of a hole, a black hole. It constantly feeds. It is constantly fed. It's a danger to our system, but there is nothing we could do about it. In order to kill it, it would have to be nonexistent. Otherwise we only succeed in making it bigger by simply wanting it to perish.

That is the process of one of the seven deadly sins, sins that we all carry, sins that prisoners in Hark emphasize and personify.

But there are those who don't have that capacity. I suppose it would be considered another sin from others, since it is an inhumane aspect from a human being. They have no expression. They carry no reaction. They have no will of their own, simply following others to emulate.

I would be considered one of those creatures if it wasn't for the freedom of a suffocating mind.

I leaned forward to the fence, skin meeting the rough metal edges of the pattern, and then I heard a soft chuckle from my right. I didn't bother to turn my head, but I saw the color of pure white in the corner of my eye.

"My, my," His playful voice made me shudder as if worms were slithering on every part of my body. "What a curious thing to be thinking so deeply in thought. People might think you're finding a way to escape."

The fence rattled when he leaned on his side. "I'm not."

"I have a suggestion. Call it an honor from someone such as I. The guards make it a habit to poke the fences with their twirling batons. It's rather painful from what I gather."

I stood up straight and looked at the man. His attitude has already been labeled as flamboyant and narcissistic. His colorless hair, combed neatly to the side, sharply covered one of his eyes. The other one had a purple shade lined neatly underneath. I couldn't tell if it was permanent make-up or the lack of sleep. His sharp long ears caught my attention though. They were just like mine.

He gasped and moaned in terror when he properly looked at me, lifting his shoulders as if he wanted to cower. "What atrocious hair! Oh! The lord is howling with such impurity! Fall to the land!" He suddenly commanded, glaring at my head with heavy intensity. "Fix this laughable nest of a hair!"

"I would if I could," I deadpanned, gesturing to my arms, frozen and stiff by the prisoner's outfit.

He huffed indignantly, "I pity you, I do."

I shrugged and looked at the other direction, finding it uncomfortably calm at the order of the yard. Inside of my prison, there was nothing to see but grey bricks, and perhaps those chameleon eyes that kept me company in sleepless nights. It was different here. There were lines of everything to the point where it made a pattern. White figures in separate trails, walking and taking turns for taking in the scenery of the outside world. There was always a rare person in a line either blindfolded or restrained from their peripheral vision. Tied together like the red string of fate. They were entitled to the person in front or behind them. Obliged to look at them when they turn, touch them when they were pushed around, and fated to witness their imprisonment once again.

The guards, shown once in every eight, were armored with the standard gear consisting of blue and black colors. None of it was shiny. None of it was pure metal to the point where they make a clang when they move. It was a bit in the skinny side, eyes and mouth covered by a black helmet and a darker visor. It was like a chess game, now that I think about it. Only in this one the white pawns are the bad guys, and the dark pawns are winning.

The albino leaned closer to me while I was watching the rest of the yard. I barely faltered back a step, just in time to dodge that cryptic smile of his. "You know, it pains me to know that most of the women here are either demons such as I or "evil" humans that have terrible taste of hair and make-up. But there was never a Hylian. No, not even one. I thought they were supposed to be innocent creatures of the light. Tell me, why did the Hero of Time save people like you?"

"Hero of Time?" I asked, feeling a slight pain in the back of my head. I cringed when the sting echoed, growing into a louder thrum, and I fought to keep from falling to tears. Keeping my chin up, I asked without a trembling voice, "What does the Hero of Time have to do with me?"

He giggled, then chortled, then released a full-blown laughter that made him fall to his knees. "Oh, I like you!" He breathed, "You're superb! Terrifyingly charismatic you are!"

With an annoyed frown, I stomped forward, towering over his quivering form. "You know something," I whispered, glowering eyes looking down at him. He tried to calm down by obnoxiously breathing in some air as if he was mocking me in the duration of his laughs. "Why are you laughing?" I nudged him with my foot, but in his struggle to regain breath, he fell on his black. "Why are you laughing?"

But he didn't listen to me. He only laughed and laughed and laughed even more, imprinting this haunting sound into my memory by force. I stepped back. He suddenly seemed slower, the waves of the grass were waving as if they were dancing to a tune. The rays of the sunlight burned. It wasn't warm anymore. It wasn't gentle. It ate my skin. It ate it alive. The shadows of the building eased, slithering towards the day, but it didn't fade. If anything, it darkened into a pure color, a color that would swallow you whole. There were ripples in the sea beside us. Circle after circle, ring after ring, and then a sizzle was heard, bubbling its way into the center. The colors of the waves were no longer blue. It was red. Nothing but red. Teasing its way into the colossal cage of ours in a slow, almost casual, advance.

Why?

I looked around. Guards and prisoners alike remained the same. The smallest of habits were noticeable in this point of view. I could see from their twitch of an eye, the flexing of their toes, feet burying themselves in the grass after each step, the fidgeting of their restrained arms, tilting their head up to the sky, shoulders tense and fingers clenching against the leash. They were all signs of it. There wasn't a change in the slightest.

They didn't know.

They didn't notice. Everyone was oblivious, trapped in their own thoughts. The shadows, the sun, the color of the ocean. The heat with large intensity, crackling with joy and demise. The twirling of bright colors. The light that destroyed and left nothing behind.

Flames eating everyone alive.

Suddenly, there was a heavy weight in my arms, trying to drag me down and towards the reddening fence beside me. I thrashed, instinctively letting my body resist. I didn't want to burn. I didn't want to be a victim!

Screams.

I turned my head, regretting ever seeing the other side. White turned to charcoal black, pieces torn off by the licks of fire. I witnessed the guards howling in agony, wondering and confused by the agonizing bites of flames. They didn't know what was going on. They couldn't see the fire feeding on their arms and legs and face. Skin melting off, flash unveiling by the second, eyeballs popping out, watching me from the distance, questioning me, accusing me in the ground, as if I did it, as if I cursed them into hell, as if everything was my own doing.

Perhaps it was.

I blinked, finding everything normal in a second. The weight in my arms was the grip from the guard beside me, shouting me incoherencies. "What are your doing?! Who let you guys out of your leash?! Answer me, now!"

The albino laughed, pointing at the guard with mirth. If the visor was off, I would've seen a sneer on his face. His grip, if anything, tightened even more, leaving no doubt bruises underneath.

"Why am I here?" I muttered to the cackling fool who was being picked off the ground like a doll.

"Dear," The albino wheezed, "Dear, if I knew, my heart would fill with rainbows!"

The guard let out an echo of a growl, nearly breaking my arm with his gloved fist. He roughly wrapped a metal collar around the pale man's neck and asked us again with a threatening edge in his tone, "What happened to your warden!"

The albino finally stopped laughing, staring at the guard with a smile joyously lingering on his lips. "Well," He admonished, "Perhaps the answer lies in the depths of this girl's mind?" He mocked, tilting his head at my direction.

There was a sickening crunch near the guard's gloved hand.

"Or maybe," The albino licked his lips, "It lies near that guard over there. He's dramatically lying on the other side of the world with crimson roses and ebony vines loyally clinging to his sides. It's a shame there aren't any more flowers around, as purple or blue would do just fine." He kicked at the dirt, portraying a child being denied his treat. "The lord is disappointed by this sad excuse of a hell!"

The guard released his hold on me when he pointed a Taser at the albino's neck. "What are you saying?!" He yelled with a towering hunch, "You killed Joseph?!"

Instead of a response, his dark eyes followed the static of electricity reaching towards the delicate skin of his neck. "There's this girl in the asylum, see." A greedy show of his teeth appeared before us, unveiling a terrible giggle. "And she wants to know why! Can you believe it? She wants to know why!"

And then I didn't know what I was doing. It wasn't like before where everything turned slow and nearly unmoving. Instead, it was like everything was disappearing. Everything blurred. In the right there were white figures fading into gurgles of red. In the left, there were grinning mouths pouring rivers of grime.

There was voice in my head telling me to stop. It kept badgering me to pause and listen. It didn't want me to submit. It wanted to be dominant. It wanted to take over. It wanted to purify me into another dimension, somewhere where everything was a sin.

So when I stepped forward, figures pushing themselves into my side, spilling their ashes and entrails onto me, I whispered their words into reality. "To escape condemnation by the tip of your bones…"

Black, lifeless hands, fingers curled themselves into a claw and grabbed my face with its nails digging into my eye. I could see the tip –dirty, sharp and rotten– coming closer and closer. The tip so close to my pupil, came into contact…

And it didn't stop.

It didn't stop at all. It just kept digging in, drilling itself as if it wanted to bury me inside out. My other eye watched it skewer her partner, watched a hole form by itself, mixing and whirling, spilling like a broken dam. On my nose, on my cheeks, red trailed into a web like stain until I tasted it: the taste of iron. It probed my teeth, my tongue, my throat. When I realized I was drinking my own blood, trepidation built up, bursting itself into my neck. I opened my jaw even more, seeing with one eye, a red pupil looking back at me with death in its eyes.

"You must burnish the blood into disparity."

I tried to make a sound, force myself into saying anything, but I couldn't. I was left up in the air, drowning myself with blood, lips open to a helpless croak, and a broken eye witnessing how the red orb crinkled with vindictive glee as it stared back at me.


"I heard a scream today."

Miracles by definition were phenomenons. They were supernatural, physically impossible. It was something that shouldn't be granted but happened anyway. They were the hopes and dreams of many. It relies solely on faith, depending on the billions of people in this Earth. People believed that if there was a tragedy, then there can be a miracle. It should be balanced. There is no other way, because if it wasn't balanced, then none of these events would transpire.

Logically though, there is no such thing. It is misleading coincidence. Or maybe these events never happened. Maybe everything was just a dream. Because we are the gods of our dreams, we can control anything. If we want something good to happen, then we just imagine it and make itself seem so simple, consequently manipulating ourselves in every dream. It's crazy. It's realistic.

It's our own imagination.

"I never heard someone make that kind of sound." The eye behind the wall deigned a concerned look. It looked rather lazy to be anything related to worry. "Was it you?"

I didn't bother to respond. The eye did not deserve contact with my own. It was full of contempt when it changed color. Or maybe that was me. My resolve still narrowed into sitting still and staring at the dark sky behind the bars.

There was no moon tonight.

"No?" The voice hummed, "Was it a scream from a victim? I heard the freak in white laugh from the other side. It seems feasible as an attempted murder if it's him. He never learns to keep his mouth shut, after all. Even if it wasn't you, guards have a tendency to electrocute the loud ones."

I brought my legs closer to my chest. Another addition to the restraints was the belt snuggly wrapped around my knees. The only perks to having them were the warmer proximity that allowed me to bury my head in between my arms without effort. I don't think anything could have made a colder night.

"How come you're still restrained? They let you free once you're inside." The voice didn't bother to wait for a response, still musing over my current predicament. I wondered exactly how fun it was to mock someone. After all, all you did was make yourself amused. There was no other reason to degrade another person whom you know is inferior. Perhaps, they need a reminder in order to feed their ego. Attach themselves to a remnant of the past? "So did I hit the bull's-eye after all? Wow, first week and already a riot. No wonder they didn't let you free. You're just like that psycho!"

I exhaled. Legs stretched, arms fell. After the struggle of standing up in the cell, I stared at the eye without trying to mask my irritation. "I don't understand."

The red eye raised an eyebrow, "What is it, princess?" It jeered. "Tell me all about you're confusion."

"You were there."

"No," The eye denied. "No, I don't think I was. In case you forgot, I'm on the other side. You face the dazzling blue sea while I face the dumps and the ditches."

I grit my teeth, "You were there!"

It changed again, red into bleak blue. Something about it was different this time, but I didn't bother to let it faze me. "Whatever you saw wasn't what you thought it was. It's your own mind playing tricks on you. Things happen in places like these. Get over it, and stop acting like a neglected child."

Red shadowed the grey walls again, "After all, it isn't proper of a Goddess now is it?"

My hands flexed, trembling upwards as if there was some kind of string pulling it. My head knocked itself forward, refusing to meet those daunting eyes, making me look at my feet covered in nothing but frost.

"Is this a dream?" I mumbled. My knees buckled and slammed against the concrete floor. The belt dug itself further into my skin. "Am I not supposed to be here? What am I doing? Why am I here?"

"Whoa, whoa, I can't hear you like that." I didn't have to look to know that the color changed again. "Now why don't you ask me something that I can answer to? Like…" They contemplated for a moment. When it did, I looked up, witnessing how it softened, not crinkled delightfully, softened in a way that I never saw before. In a low tone, they asked me without a condescending undertone. "What do I look like?"

I didn't know.

There was something missing in this place, something that I couldn't put my hands on. It was the way where everything looked the same. There were no paintings, no color, no reflection of the sort. It was why I looked at everything else and thought about the reasons of their background. It was the reason why I needed to think. Why I needed to explain.

Because when I looked at the file with a name I couldn't recognize, it was empty.

I leaned forward until my forehead met my thighs, letting my eyelids fall and my cold lips murmur to the eye on the other side of the prison wall. "What do I look like?" I echoed.

It responded with a crass and bitter tone that I didn't manage to register. "Well, I could only tell you the basics. I'm sorry if I can't detail it like the freak in white. You have brown hair and blue eyes, princess. Congratulations on your first answer."


A/N: A reminder to myself that everything here is a rough draft. I will rewrite only when the story is complete. So no rewrites and haitus and all that crap.

Question of the Chap: (I'm still doing this people XD)

Who are the three characters featured in this chapter?

Review kiddies