Post by Ophelia Tempest on Oct 4, 2012 11:43:46 GMT -8
Suggest Listening: Sweet Dreams - Emily Browning
"Sweet dreams, my little doves." Sister Catherine's voice was so kind, and silently, for just a moment, I wished to myself we weren't going to do something that would get her in such trouble. The Sisters, Sister Joan in particular, believed that little girls were dull and simple. They spoke around us as if we had no means of understanding them when they used their 'adult voices'. We knew, though. We weren't blind, we had seen the limp Sister Margaret walked with after she had gotten in trouble.
Behind thin, closed lids I saw the light switch off, pulling me from my thoughts. With all the stealth the poor round woman could muster the pulled the door closed slowly, then tried to walk away on silent steps. She failed of course, and myself and the other girls could always judge how many doors down she was. Finally slow footsteps became muffled, and then were no more.
That was our cue.
Almost in unison I sat up in bed with two of the other girls - we didn't even bother to look at each other, we had gone over the plan countless times for the last month. Each of us slipped out from underneath our thin sheets, reaching under our beds for our shoes and pulling them on.
Together we walked to the only window in the room, and I was overjoyed to see that, though often locked, it had been left cracked open to provide some hint of comfort to the muggy room.
I took the lead as I always do, crawling through the limited space provided. Precariously I scaled down a wooden trellis intended for ivy to grow up, and although I hit the ground with several splinters in my fingers, it was surprisingly sturdy.
Rachel came after me.
With perfect ringlets of golden brown and bright blue eyes, she was gorgeous. One of the most recent arrivals in our sad little orphanage, she was also very young - not even 7, I guessed. I knew she would have no problems finding a home.
She startled me with her lack of caution most of the time, and now was no different. With less grace and more haste she rushed down the wooden ladder, landing beside me with her hands on her hips.
Finally came Diane, a sad sight to watch. Diane had been here longer than the other girls could remember, and she was the tallest of all of them. Her hair was straw yellow and fell in awkward messy waves, framing dull brown eyes and a freckled face. Liz and I both watched solemnly as she struggled to get the curve of her hips through the space we had little trouble with. We saw her flinch as the swell of her breasts pressed into the harsh corner of the windowsill, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing: she had no hope of being adopted from the orphanage, ever.
Once Diane clumsily hit the ground we began to move as a single unit once more. They weren’t used to the outdoors like I was, and there were several instances where I was forced to stop as Diane and Rachel paused to untangle their nightgowns from the branches reaching for them. This was natural for me, this was where I belonged. The feel of the moss giving way to my light steps, the crisp smell predicting rainfall, the sight of clawed branches reaching for a starry sky.. it was perfect.
“Jazzy..” I heard Diane whisper in that meek voice of hers, her breathing labored from the short sprint we were making. “I’m not sure this is the safest idea..”
Before I could answer Rachel shot back, “Shoosh. Nothing bad ever happened to Nancy Drew. There are girls disappearing, we have to do something.”
I was about to speak, to calm the brunette and to ease the worries of the older girl, but I was interrupted by the sudden notice of a cabin. My stop was so sudden that Rachel ran into me, and Diane into her, resulting in a pile of us on the damp ground.
“Ew!” Whined Diane, instantly shushed by Rachel.
I paid them no mind, the candlelight glowing in the windows of the cabin seeming to beckon me closer. Without bothering to wipe the dirt from my nightie I stood and made a beeline for the building, blocking out the hushed, urgent whispers from my companions for me to return. Sounds of merriment and jovial, robust sounds touched her ears from deeper in, and she did not think to look back to see if the other girls heard it as well.
She arrived upon the door sooner than she had expected, but her fingers found the knob without hesitation. Pushing the door open she peeked in curiously, though she hesitated to enter - just for a moment.
The room was dark with flickering candle light kissing the furniture covered in draped cloth. She saw a modest fire in a small fireplace and a figure's hand causally over the arm of the chair facing the fire, hiding her view of the stranger’s face.
"Ah, beloved, I am so glad you could make my little soiree. Such festivities await us. Please," he gestures to the other overstuffed chair facing the fire. "Have a seat. Take a load off. I have a full night of delights ahead of us to repay your many kindnesses."
Recognition perked up my ears, however memory escaped me as the voice melded with the melodies echoing through the room. I felt the heel of my shoe gently meet the floor as I took a step forward, making no attempt to hide the fact that I was moving closer.
"I apologize," I heard my tone take on a certain charm one would not expect from a child, ever polite and welcoming, "I'm afraid I'm having a bit of trouble with a voice but not face.. your name, good Sir?"
"Names?" I heard a bitter laugh in his voice, though without seeing his face I could not be sure. "What is in a name, beloved? Its just a collection of sounds to show we remember someone. Not important at all."
"Names are everything.. sounds get lost amongst the chaotic sounds of the city, and other voices, and the song of life.. I never forget a name, though.. nor a face."
I took another step, and silently cursed myself as this one was audibly more hesitant than the last. I couldn’t show fear - I wouldn’t show fear.
"Perhaps you could be so kind as to grant me one or the other.."
"Closer ever closer. Sit and you will have half of what you seek..." he laughs quietly, gesturing to the chair once more. “I wonder what you'll sing for me tonight. Something lovely, I hope. Sweet. Inviting. A song of devotion. Yes..."
Sister Katherine was always telling me to pipe down, I loved to sing. Singing was my passion, the thing that kept me hopeful of a family adopting me. Maybe they would hear me sing and love me.
I heard myself laugh, though I wasn’t sure why, anxiety edging the sound. My blood ran cold with fear as I finally came around the chair to see his face, and while everything inside of me was screaming at me to run, the terror overwhelmed me.
And he smiled up at me. The bags under his eyes spoke of a quiet mania, his linen shirt and baggy trousers wrinkled, as though he had slept in them more than a few nights. His voice was honey as he spoke, looking me over in the most unsavory of manners. I felt myself cringe as he raised a hand to begin to stroke his chest.
“I knew you couldn’t resist me.. your music won’t leave me, beloved. It echoes and rattled my bones. It... bounces off the inside of my skull. It echoes from every pore.”
I forced one one single whispered word out, his name, and the hopelessness in my tone surprised me. “Dylan..”
He beamed.
“And here I was terrified you’d forgotten.” As he bent forward to pay my knee, I felt sick. “I’m glad to see that fear was unfounded. Did you miss me?” He rose smoothly and began to circle my chair like a vulture, his finger trailing across my shoulder. “No, don’t speak, it will only ruin this moment.
“Such a showy gown, beloved. Not your usual attire.”
I only had a moment to grasp at the thin fabric of my nightgown, confused as to his meaning, before I felt him stop behind me. His hands fell to the small table arranged between the two chairs, fingertips tracing the fabric that covered something there.
“I’ve made you something as well. Not as showy, but more... meaningful.”
In one swift motion he snapped the cloth from the table, revealing a heavy, perfectly wrought collar sporting a heavy ring in the front.
This isn't happening. I thought in panic, my gaze darting around the room, panicked, for some means of escape besides the door I briefly noted was now bolted. Finally pushed by fear I leaped from the chair, my destination the nearest window I saw. He was too fast, however, his hand snapping out like a serpent’s strike. Before I had fully cleared the chair his hand was wrapped in my hair, and I felt pressure as he whipped me around and tossed me to the floor. My forehead collided with the foot of the chair I had just attempted to vacate, and the force of the motion caused me to push the table that housed the collar.
The collar intended for me.
Now that I was sprawled on the floor he released my hair, and I heard him laugh in the quietly insane sort of way. Bending, he collected the heavy metal collar, and I shuddered as I heard the soft sigh of metal dragging across wood.
Three women I hadn’t seen before walked forward as he waved a hand, their heads bowed and their hands folded. I couldn’t help but judge them on their appearance, their eyes sunken and their hair a mess, dresses on all of them that revealed far too much. Their heads were bowed and their hands were folded in front of them, and I took a moment to realize they looked more frightened than I did.
“You aren’t flying away from me this time, beloved.” His voice was grating in my ears like nails on a chalkboard. “We’re going to clip your wings. Yes. Clip. But your cage will be oh so pretty.” My face met with the floor suddenly as he moved to place his knee firmly against the small of my back, and I felt something crack as he placed all of his weight. The cold metal of the collar against my flesh kicked me into action again and I reached forward, my nails digging into the wood of the floor as I tried to drag myself away to no avail. I felt myself lose control as my body thrashed violently beneath him, screaming and cursing his name as I tore small trenches into the floor. The splinters coming up beneath my fingernails, blood beginning to build up under my nails, causing a kind of pain I hadn’t felt before.
Rage built inside of me, threatening to snuff out my fear as I heard him laugh again. A small group of strands of my hair were trapped under the collar as the metal began to close, and I gagged as a powerful blow landed on my kidneys, my breath knocked from me. His voice was distant and muffled as he spoke to the other women in the room.
“Darlings, come, give me a hand. You, put your knee on her wrist. That’s a good girl, yes, all your weight. You, on that wrist.”
I felt the fragile bones in my wrist snap, and heard another scream of pain come from my lips.
“And you, duckling,” he continued, “you sit on her ankles. Oh yes, much better.” As the metal pulled tight I found it difficult to swallow, difficult to breath. “There...” The metal was cold as winter and bit at my tender flesh, gnawing cold against my throat. “See? So much better.”
Another desperate cry escaped me, and panic coursed through me, making my skin crawl. My heart pounded loudly in my ears, and for a moment it was all I could hear. I screamed once more, this time with no warning one of the girls - the one on her left wrist - fell to her side with her hands covering her ears. My eyes widened as I watched blood leak through her fingers.
“Rachel!” I heard myself yell, just wanting - needing someone to know I was in trouble. With muffled sobs I prayed the girls outside would run for help, I prayed they would tell the Sisters I was here and I was in trouble.
My thoughts were interrupted once more as he smacked me on the rear, grabbing a fistful of my hair and jerking my head back to look at him. “Crying for help? Hm? You’ll have to be punished for such naughty behavior. I know your friends are outside - if they try to interupt me I will, sadly, be forced to burn them alive. Slowly.” His voice dripped with a sick excitement at the notion. “I will force the Sisters and yourself to watch, and clap, while you roast marshmallows over their searing flesh. There will be so much.. joy.”
He leaned forward, and my stomach wretched as I felt his lips meet my cheek with a tenderness I had not expected from this twisted man. “Are you going to behave, beloved? Or will I have to do something horrible?”
Hot tears burned my eyes as I glared at him, and I knew my gaze had more venom and hatred in it than I had ever felt before. Regardless, my struggling ceased at the idea of him hurting my friends. My body remained tense, trembling, and low, feral growls were coming from my throat with an anger even I couldn’t have fathomed.
“Such a good girl you are,” He crowed to me. Course rope was suddenly around my wrists, cutting into my skin as he tied it far too tight to allow circulation. Taking a hold of my hair once more he pulled me to my knees, and then again to my feet.
His hand came up to cup my cheek in almost a loving way before I watched, appalled, as he casually kicked the girl bleeding from the ears away from me. The rope was tossed up over the heavy iron chandelier in the room, and he pulled the lengths tight until my toes barely were touching the ground. A dark chuckle sounded from his chest as he tied the rope off, then withdrew a knife from the mantel. As he approached I saw something snap in him, his eyes full of uninhibited insanity as his fingers gripped the handle until his knuckles were white.
“If you won’t sing for me, little bird, then you won’t sing for anyone. I’ll make sure of that.”
Before I could react he was pressed against me, one arm wrapped tightly around me and pulling me close to his body. His other hand brought the blade up to my neck and made one clean cut, and I heard wet gurgling noises come from me as blood filled my throat. In the same instance I saw Diane burst in through the door, I didn’t even take the time to notice it was unbolted once more.
All I felt was sickening fear and pain that enveloped me.
He laughed as the young adult burst in, and I watched him move forward with inhuman speeds. I tried to scream a warning to her, but it was too late, and my voice was muted by the slash in my throat.
The monster’s blade was buried deep in the blonde’s stomach, her eyes wide with confusion and fear. My heart ached as she glanced to me, a sad sense of failure in her eyes before she slumped forward against his blade.
I tried to scream once more, but all that came out was blood and pain and choking sounds.
He turned and grinned at me, that dark look in his eyes that told me the night was far from over, and he began striding towards me once more.
Jazz jumped in her bed, startled awake by the sense of another in her room. She glanced up to see the pale, sunken face of Jo, her Ghoul, staring back at her. His hand was on her hair, stroking it affectionately.
Taking a moment to calm herself and to push herself up to a sitting position, her hands moved to sign to him.
That’s creepy, Jo.. stay out of my room, we’ve had this talk.
He frowned, his brows furling together, troubled. “I heard you scream.”
She tried as hard as she could - really, she did - but she couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling. Jo was one of those uncomfortable Ghouls who thought there was more to their interactions than there was. Her hands flourished her words out once more.
No, Jo. You didn’t. I can’t scream. You may have heard me thrashing - look, I know you said you were trying, and I believe you.. but.. I really need you to cut back on the drugs. Really. They’re not good for you.
Frustrated, Jo stood and shook his head. “I need them to focus, I told you.” He snapped, then turned to storm out of the room.
The blonde gave a silent sigh and rubbed her eyes, drawing her legs up to her chest. Stupid Ghoul.. stupid dreams..
She spent the rest of dusk trying to go back to sleep, puzzled over why her dreams would demonize her child Ghoul.