Author Note:
. I feel like there is so much wrong with my writing! Someone please tell me what to fix! Anything will help, I really need some criticism! Please take the time to review, I'd really appreciate it! Keep Reading :) Love chu all~
~Scar
Chapter 4:
Her eyelids fluttered open slowly, the rest of her body taking a while to respond with her. "Ugh... where-" She sat up, a long trail of her dark hair falling down from its tightly woven bun and down onto her back. She pulled it out, curls swirling around her face like an aura of darkness around the moon's pale face. Her bright red eyes were wide with shock as she took in the scenery around her. It was dark, extremely dark. She viewed the room around her through a darkish gray haze. The red and blue of the paintings on the wall opposite her shocked her. The color seemed perfectly clear, unaffected by the darkness; almost as though they were... glowing. She stood hastily, eager to get out of the room. How did I get down here? She asked herself, as she started down the hallway on the right. She was silent, her footsteps echoing off of the blue tile-like floor with an eerie hollowness. The walls were almost the exact color of the floors, and the amount of BLUE around her was quite startling. She didn't stop. After a while of walking, she noticed the letters on the wall. W. E. L. C. O. M. E. The letters ran down the length of the corridor leading towards a door near the end, one that was lighter than the walls, it matched the letters almost perfectly. The door was cracked, and a soft reddish light was slowly trickling through it; she noticed something fall, very near the entrance, and bent to examine it. A petal. It was soft, with a waxy sort of polish keeping the color intact. The color that glared back into eyes that were almost a clear reflection of itself. Red. B. A. C. K. The four letters stamped themselves out just above the doorway. Ib rest a hand on the bluish surface, pushing it open slightly. The room was of the same color as the one she had come from, a large painting glared at her from the other side of the room. It depicted a large head, presumably of a woman, with long blue hair that seemed to escape the canvas at the bottom; her eyes were bloodshot, and her tongue was dry. Ib looked down at the floor before the painting. There, on the ground, was a delicate rose. It was pert and beautiful, its curling red petals softly framing it's center with an angelic grace. It seemed too beautiful to be real. She picked it up, its thorns tearing at her skin slightly, and cupped it to her chest. She had the strangest feeling that this might be important to her for some odd reason. She turned away from the painting, and started towards the hall, but not before hearing a sickening crunch. She slowly, hesitantly turned towards the way she came from. The woman in the painting was gone, and in her place a message written in pure red.
"WE THOUGHT YOU'D NEVER, EVER COME HOME, IB."
She turned, swallowing back a scream, and ran.
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The three Ladies had rounded a corner, and Garry couldn't see them or their color trails anymore. He scanned the corridor he was in lazily. He didn't exactly remember the path he had taken, and this part of the gallery didn't look familiar at all. I had thought... almost for sure that... He shook his head. Where does this go, I wonder? He took a step towards a white door, that was dripping with black paint. He had never seen any black paint in the Galleries, in the beginning it had surprised him, but it seemed to be making more and more sense the longer he spent in the gallery. Guertana was the master of color, he could manipulate anything to look like anything else. Black seemed to be his least used color, and Garry found Guertana's favorite to be either purple or blue. Strange... He shook that thought off too, instead pressing his hand against the door and swinging it open. The room was silent, and Garry took one look around before leaving. What a pointless room. All white, with just boxes piled up all over the place. I guess every Gallery needs a storeroom, right? He shut the door behind him. Where did the Ladies run off to? Wouldn't I have heard them by now? Garry pressed further down the corridor, it opened into a large space that was almost completely empty. A desk lay in the middle, surrounded by four dark acrylic vases. The walls were bare, and the floor was dark, painted with stars. Garry looked up, and drew in a sharp breath. It was beautiful, a circlet of heavenly bodies hanging from strings, swaying lightly as though willed by a breeze. The Solar System. He took another step closer, nearing the desk slowly. If he had paid more attention, he would have heard the crunching. And if he listened very closely, he might have even heard the screams.
/\-*~*-*~*-*~*-/\
The hallway was now covered in red letters, screaming out to her with an exaggerated sense of importance. I.B. The two letters were everywhere, she ran, through tearing down the corridor, never pausing. W.E. M.I.S.S.E.D. Y.O.U. Splashed onto the floor, as though someone had hurriedly wrote it with a thick paintbrush. W.H.Y. D.I.D. Y.O.U. L.E.A.V.E. Y.O.U.R. F.R.I.E.N.D.S? She jumped nimbly over it, rushing towards the door at the far end of the wall. There was a desk there, that contained a book, along with a pen. Ib didn't stop to look at it; choosing instead to blindly dash for the door that was slightly ajar. It was only on the other side of the door, that she took the time to exhale; her fingers were trembling, her whole body rocking slightly with violent shivers. Where-where am I? She looked down at her hands, and was surprised to see the blood there. She had gripped her rose too tightly, and beads of the reddish liquid now trailed across her whitish hands. She looked up, taking in the new area. It was green, completely green, there was as much green as there had been blue. She took a step forwards, willing herself to stop shaking. She looked at the paintings on the wall, a ladybug, bee, butterfly, and spider. They weren't really remarkable in any way. She walked up to the butterfly one, running her fingers across its glass case. What do I do now? The diary from the previous room called to her from her mind. I don't really want to go back there... She stepped away from the painting, and walked left a few paces. She was surprised to find a whitish note taped to the wall hurriedly. "I would remind you again, but you should remember -G". G? For Guertana? Oh it must be... She examined the corridor beyond the note. It was rather narrow, with walls that clung close on either side. She would be able to get past, without much trouble either. What would there be to remember, I wonder, about walking down a hallway? She shrugged it off, and took a hesitant step towards it. Seconds later, Ib started screaming.