Two | Kaleidoscope

The silence was too much for Michelle to handle so she flipped the TV on. Although she wasn’t paying attention to what they were saying, the noise was enough to put her at ease.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as the Nightmare neared, stopping on the other side of the counter. It stopped, keeping a safe distance but it still made her uncomfortable.

Shutting the cabinet, she turned around and looked at it, narrowing her eyes.

“Leave me alone.” Her voice rang through the quiet room, echoing back to her a few seconds later. “You’re a parasite. You need to leave.”

“If only that worked.” It smirked. “Unfortunately, this is how I stay alive so I won’t be leaving any time soon.”

Rolling her head to the side, she sighed and rubbed her shoulder. She’d been running on only a few hours of sleep for the past several days and it was starting to catch up to her. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep as it was but a part of her knew she needed to at least try.

“Why me?” she spoke. “And why did you have to pick that fear?”

She could see the scene playing out just beyond the filmy black skin of the Nightmare. Inside, she stood alone in the middle of a crowd but everyone around her ignored her. No one knew her—no one acknowledged her—no one looked at her.

“It seemed that abandonment was your greatest fear,” it answered. “And I was right. Even now, the fear grows stronger and stronger.”

“Which means you get stronger too.” She breathed. Anger began to grow in the empty hole grief had left in her chest. “Feeding off of someone else’s pain is wrong.”

It was quiet, unmoving.

“Then do something about your pain,” Abandonment snapped back. “Do something about your fear and I disappear. If you aren’t scared, I grow weak.”

Now it was her turn to be quiet.

“But you can’t do anything because you’re the weak one.” It stepped closer, its cold aurora inching over her. “And the weaker you are, the stronger I become.”

“Step closer one more time and I’ll yank your heart out.” She growled, clenching her fists.

It cocked its head to the side. “I don’t think you’re strong enough.”

The overhead lights flickered as her veins burned. “I know who I am and what I’m capable of and I won’t be hindered by a measly parasite like you.”

“How long have I been following you around, Glass?” Abandonment’s voice mocked her. “Months. Almost a year.”

She stepped closer to it and reached out, her hand passing through its chest.

“I know how to kill you.” She wrapped her fingers around the pulsing orb that was hidden just beyond her fear. “And I’m not scared to do it.”

“You can’t.” Its voice hitched as she tightened her grip on the heart, tucking on the many cords that were attached to it and spread throughout its body. “You wouldn’t dare.”

She loosened her grip. “I’m not scared to be alone.”

“You’re right.” It nodded, its eyes turning a burning orange color as it took in a breath. “You’re scared of being abandoned. First, your parents, then your friends. Next your grandmother and grandfather. What do you have now, Glass?”

The words burned her skin, making her pull back slightly, her fingers slipping away from the heart. It stepped backwards and out of her reach but she made no attempt to pursue it. As long as it stayed back, she was fine.

“You’ve already been abandoned,” it spoke. “Many times, over and over again. How many times is it going to happen? Who do you have to save you?”

Her legs went weak beneath her and fell to the ground, landing on her knees. She couldn’t move but she didn’t want to. The Nightmare’s words sounded inside of her head as it kneeled in front of her, it’s icy cold fingers sliding down her jawbone and to her ears. It pressed into the side of her head and she tried to pull back, unable to take the stabbing sensation anymore. In response, it tightened its hold on her and pressed harder, speeding up the process.

“Relax.”

Her whole body went numb, muscles loosening, and she went limp in the Nightmare’s arms. All she could see was the scene unfolding before her, one she had seen millions of times before but never let thought about in detail.

A rush of cold air swallowed her up even though all the windows were closed tightly. She realized it was inside of her head, controlling her body, emotions, and probably even her thoughts.

She gritted her teeth in an attempt to fight back but with no success. The scary thing about the Nightmares was that they couldn’t hurt a person or at least not on their own. They would manipulate the emotions and thoughts of their host into self-harm, further fueling the Fear that they were mimicking.

A sudden feeling of loneliness stabbed into her chest, stealing the last remaining bits of air from her lungs and leaving her shivering. Her whole world started spinning as if she was on a theme park ride, taking her up and plunging her down, twisting every which way.

Her vision blurred, all the colors of the room draining from the walls and paintings and mixing together before dispersing once more. It was like she was looking through the lens of a kaleidoscope—everything was distorted yet, at the same time, it looked perfectly normal as if it had always been like that.

She stood to her feet without thinking, grabbing onto the counter for support as she pulled her body up. Everything stopped spinning and the colors seemed to calm down but the peace only lasted for a split second. Looking over her shoulder, her eyes landed on the Nightmare, its black silhouette untouched by the rush of colors and vibration.

It was in control of her now, moving her around the counter. She watched as her hand reached out, fingers numbly wrapping around the iced-over handle of the knife that rested in the butcher’s block.

“You should know better than to mess with a Child,” she growled. A tiny bit of pain made it through the hazy mist that seemed to surround her senses and she realized she was clenching the handle too hard. It didn’t matter—she couldn’t get her grip to loosen and it seemed the Nightmare liked the pain.

It flicked its finger towards the ground and she felt her body go weightless, dropping at its command. As it stepped forward, she tried to get her arms and legs to move but she remained paralyzed by its control.

“You’re barely a Child,” it mocked. “You’re not strong enough either.”

She could feel some part of her fighting back, a part she had kept buried for a long time. Now, it was awakening and it was mad. A rush of adrenaline-like energy raced through her veins like fire over a trail of gasoline.

Looking down at her arms, she could see the inky-black veins that stood up from her skin and the slight blue bits that interlaced with the darkness.

A scream tore from her throat as the Nightmare lunged towards her, its hands passing straight through her. It hurt like her heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest or as if the air in her lungs had decided to claw an exit through her skin.

The Nightmare screeched as she managed to gain some control of her body but it wasn’t enough. Her grip released and the sound of the metal blade rattling against the marble floor startled her, making her lose the ground she had gained.

Her fingers danced over the floor for a panicked second before she found the knife. The Nightmare pulled back, satisfied that it had regained its control. All she could do now was let go of the hold she had on her body and move with the Nightmare. She needed to conserve her energy otherwise she wouldn’t be able to fight back.

The blade caught the light of the chandelier above her, momentarily blinding her as the Nightmare adjusted her handle on the knife. She titled the blade, the tip slicing into the skin by the base of her palm but she felt nothing.

Slight panic bubbled in her chest but it was quickly smothered by a misty feeling of apathy. She knew she should be feeling pain but once again, her whole body was numb.

As she pulled the blade back, it neatly cut through the skin. Crimson red blood bubbled from the fresh wound and around her arm before dripping onto the floor with soft pats.

A sound came from her throat, not quite a scream but more a chuckle, starting as a giggle before blooming into a delirious laugh that deafened her.

Then she felt it.

The pain hit her like a brick wall, knocking her head back and making her scream for help. The Nightmare had released its control on her, satisfied with the rush of energy it had managed to harvest.

The burning hot tears rolled down her face, blurring her vision, and once again making everything melt together in an unidentifiable object.

Scream after scream erupted from her throat until she couldn’t make a sound. It was impossible to breathe, to stop the world from shaking as she struggled to her feet, cradling her injured arm against her stomach. She needed to stop the bleeding so she grabbed her jacket from off the counter and wrapped it around her arm as tight as she could manage.

Swiping her keys from the hook where she had left them, she fell against the door. After several moments of fumbling with the lock and handle, she managed to get it open and stumbled out into the hallway.

The cold night air felt good on her sweaty skin but she didn’t have time to focus on the relieving feeling. She needed to move before she passed out but as it was, she could barely walk.

Her steps turned into weak shuffles as she headed down the virtually empty sidewalk. A few people gave her a strange look but no one stepped out of their way to ask if she needed help. She wished that someone would but couldn’t speak. When she tried, her words slurred and melted together into an incoherent mess.

“Please.”

She tripped on her own feet and lurched forward, grabbing out for something to grab onto. Instead, she felt arms wrap around her, catching her and swinging her to the side.

The person was warm and wore a soft sweater that reminded her of the blanket she kept on the couch in case it got too cold while she watched TV. Without thinking about it, she leaned into them and let her eyes close.

“Help.” The words left her mouth without her thinking about it but she didn’t care. The arms tightened around her as the person helped her into a standing position.

“Michelle?” They sounded as if they were miles away when in reality they were mere inches away. They smelled of vanilla and lemon, reminding her of the cookies her grandmother used to make on the weekends.

She felt them pull back from her and unwind the jacket from her arm and heard their heartbeat spike as she leaned back against them.

They were scared.

Next:

Three | Asset

(Wednesday)