Disclaimer: This story contains violent and descriptive gore. Please do not read if you have trouble with graphic writing.
Author Note:
Wahhh I can't believe I'm already writing Chapter 17! This fanfic has gone by really fast! Anyways, here's where I really start to wrap up the story, the last chapters (17, 18, 19, and especially 20) I expect to be a lot longer, in some cases double the normal length. Hope you'll all stick with it 'till the end! :3
Love chu all~ Keep Reading :)
~Scar
Chapter 17:
Mary wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her torn dress. The monster's blue blood leaked from the corners of it, dripping from her teeth and into the large puddle that had already formed on the floor. She took the large piece of meat that used to be his leg and sank her teeth into it. Squelch.The delicious taste of savory, sticky blood filled her mouth. She tore into it, chunks of the slippery, fresh, juicy meat sliding through her fingertips and sticking to the floor. She continued until she had picked most of the flesh from the bone, the whitish substance dyed blue with blood fairly easy to see. That was all that was left of him by now, a few bluish bones with small chunks of meat still clinging honorably. Mary took the skull from the pile, staring into the bloody eye sockets. They had been a nice treat, the eyes. She smiled gruesomely, and started crawling back towards the door. But not before something caught her attention... it almost blended in perfectly with all of the dark blue blood.
A rose.
It was hard to tell what color it was at first, for it seemed to be covered in a blackish substance that just wouldn't come off. Blue.
A Blue rose?
Garry. Mary's smile widened.
Time to play Garry.
/\-*~*-*~*-*~*-/\
Garry and Ib were still in the enormous white room. Garry led her around the vast space, it seemed to have no end; just white, white, and the occasional splash of color from the books that spanned the tall walls in both directions. "Where was this door you said you saw?" Ib asked, stifling a yawn with her free hand. Her rose was nestled into the fabric of her shirt, tucked away safely.
"There were stairs..." Garry squinted against the glaring lights. Ib nodded, her eyes too beginning to take in the room around them.
"It must be some sort of puzzle," Ib said, "Guertena really loves using those." Garry nodded.
"Yeah, I think you're right." He started to study the walls more closely. "Ib, drop something here, on the floor." Ib nodded, pulling out her worn, and slightly bloody handkerchief. She let it fall from her fingers, hitting the floor silently. "Alright, now lets keep walking." They walked for a while longer, Garry never took his eyes off of the floor; his lips were moving silently, as though he was counting something out.
"Garry why did you have me- what?! How is that possible?!" The couple stopped and stared down at the object that resided on the floor before their feet. "My handkerchief?!" Garry nodded.
"This must be a circular room."
"But the walls don't seem to be curved..."
"Things are never as they seem in this art gallery." Ib nodded.
"Okay, so now what?" They looked up at each other.
"We have to find that staircase," Ib reached down for her handkerchief, gingerly taking hold of one of the corners, and pulling it up. The screamed with surprise as a dark black fluid seemed to encase it, weighing it down and causing it to fall from her fingertips.
"IB!" Garry yelled, taking her hand and studying it in detail. "You don't look hurt, are you hurt?! Please tell me you're okay."
"Yes, yes I'm fine. Geez, you're a little overprotective to be a good boyfriend don't you think?" Garry blushed slightly, and Ib laughed. "No, but really," she asked once her fit of giggling had died down. "What was that?"
"I'm not sure..." They shrugged it off, and took off down the corridor once more. Neither of them noticing that behind them, the room was changing. The walls now dripped with black paint, and the books all seemed to be rotting and falling off of their shelves. One of the large bookcases ripped free from the wall with an ear-splitting screech of metal on metal. A loud thud seemed to reverberate from the floor, filling the entire gallery with its noise.
It was falling apart...
/\-*~*-*~*-*~*-/\
Mary touched her fingers to the waxy petals of the rose, and tugged. Nothing happened at first, the rose stayed full and luscious, and Mary's fingers stayed pinched around the small piece; but then... Mary screamed, she screamed as loud as she could and dropped the rose to the floor. It was glowing, wrapped in a dark sort-of aura that echoed the blackness of the night with an eerie perfectness. Mary's fingers were gone. Not just burnt, cut, or ripped, but literally gone. She hissed and spat, a long stream of spittle dropping from her roughly sewn lips and splashing to the floor. The blue of her most recent victims blood seemed to lighten the dark color of her own blood slightly. She examined her fingers again, or rather, the place they had once been. It looked as though they had dissolved into nothingness, ripped into pieces smaller than individual grains of sand. She scrambled backwards, slipping in the pool of mixed blood and ending up face down in it. The saltiness stung her raw eye sockets and torn leg. I need to get out of here. She began to crawl away. I need to live, so I may feed on the sweet blood of her. Ib. The thought sent energy coursing through her veins, and brought a smile to her face. As her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, she envisioned the moment she would sink her teeth into that soft porcelain skin. And her smile only grew as the door swung open slowly.
/\-*~*-*~*-*~*-/\
Ib and Garry continued, hand in hand, down the corridor. There seemed to be no other way to go, no way but onwards, into the white haze. Ib wondered how long this circle must be, they had been walking for a while by now. Ib was studying a bookshelf when she first heard it, shattering, and crunching. Almost like something fragile had crashed against the floor, like glass or pottery or... Ib turned slowly. She wouldn't have been able to make it out, if not for the bright red blood that gushed from the large fissure on its skull. A mannequin head. Even the blood was realistic, just the right shade of crimson... Garry snapped her out of the disturbing train of thought.
"Ib..." He was looking in the same direction as her.
"How did it fall?!" She asked him, staring at the white surface of its face. Garry squeezed her hind tighter in his, and tugged her off, away from the mannequin.
"We have to hurry." The urgency in his voice was so genuine, it inspired fear in her own heart.
"Garry? What's going on?"
His eyes met hers, and she noticed the tears that had filled them.
"You just have to trust me for now."
Trust me?
Ib nodded.
But he just shook his head, and kept on running.
The tears didn't stop.
/\-*~*-*~*-*~*/\
Yellow was dying. Blue, Green, and Red tended to her sick body as she lay, wheezing, on the floor. Her skin was mottled, gray and black, her hair was also darker now, much darker. The Black... She had tried to fight it for so long. But now, as she lay there, in the hands of death, she didn't seem as worried. She even smiled.
Mary.
Lady Mary was alive, and that was all that mattered to her. Green watched hopelessly as the black spread and darkened on Yellow's skin. Yellow hacked slightly, seeming to choke on something for a bit. Before silence.
Her lips still formed a smile.
Even as the black encroached upon them, they remained in the position of happiness. Defiantly bringing light to the pure night that had begun to descend upon the gallery.
But within a few seconds, the light and dark were gone.
And with them, Yellow's body, frame and all.