Writing - Tamingthemuse challenge
Aug. 12th, 2010 12:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jadedmusingsTitle: Hallucinations
Fandom: Original
Prompt: #212 - Your prison is walking through this world all alone.
Warnings: Language, adult themes.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Drugged with Dreamdust, Selene gets an unpleasant visit from her mother.
Word Count: 1,051
Notes: A rush job that I worked on in between packing boxes and loading up my truck. Had to post this now as I'll be moving to North Carolina Saturday and will be without internet access for a few days afterward.
In the days following Mykolas’s death, I dreamed. I dreamed of him, of blood, and of death. Every night I relived the scene of his blood splattering across the wall as the bullet shattered his skull. Each morning I woke up with my voice hoarse from screaming for Perun’s men to stop, to let Mykolas go, or to kill me too.
At some merciful point, they lessened in frequency. It would be a lie to say this happened because I found closure or that I had somehow healed. The truth was that I became numb to the horror and the pain. I stared dispassionately into Mykolas’s eyes when the gun fired, no longer able to muster so much as a whimper as his head snapped back and the light faded from those handsome gray eyes.
Sometimes it was me who pulled the trigger.
I ruminated over these facts while I sat alone in a dank cell listening to the constant drip of a leaky pipe. If I had known the bastards had dosed me with Dreamdust, I would have focused my thoughts on something far more pleasant. Of course, even if I had, it may not have been enough to stop the hallucinations.
“It’s your fault. All of it is your fault.”
The voice came from the corner of the cell where the shadows were thickest. When I looked in that direction, my vision blurred and I thought I saw movement within the darkness.
“Their blood is on your hands.”
I rubbed my eyes, but my eyesight continued to worsen and the room started to spin. The shadows pushed together and took on the shape of a woman. She moved toward me until she was roughly two feet away.
“And if you don’t kill them, they run away from you. It’s always been this way.” My mother’s eyes were as cold and lifeless as I remembered. “You’re all alone with no one to blame but yourself.”
Laughing, I tried to push myself to my feet only to find my limbs were too weak to support my weight. I slumped over to the floor, still chuckling as I told my mother, “You’re dead.”
“Even in death I am more alive than you ever were.”
“Oh goody,” I said, “you’ve become a philosopher.”
She began slowly pacing back and forth in front of me, her form flickering and becoming less solid whenever she turned. “You chilled my womb while you were inside of me. Do you know why?”
“I see you’re still crazy.” I turned my head to the side, away from the sight of her. The cold concrete scratched my cheek.
“It’s because you’re dead inside.” Her face appeared inches from mine. Had I any control over my body, I would have screamed and lashed out at her. “You’ve always been dead, always been evil.” She resumed her pacing and I tried to look away again, but her apparition followed me. I couldn’t escape it.
“You fucked whoever you could. All you needed was a warm body, male or female. You fucked to feel something, anything, but everything was hollow inside.” The smile she offered was cruel. “Even when you killed, you felt nothing—no guilt, no pleasure, no joy. Nothing. Haven’t you ever wondered why that is?”
I kept reminding myself she was an illusion, a manifestation of my fears and insecurities. Dreamdust could send the sanest of people over the edge and to continue conversing with my dead mother would most certainly pose a serious threat to my mental health. That’s what I told myself at any rate, but it was too late. Her verbal arrows managed to find their target.
“What the fuck is your point?” I asked through clenched teeth. My fingers curled into tight fists at my sides.
“You’re soulless.”
“Ha! Is that the best you can do? I’m soulless?” I started laughing again. It wasn’t the laughter of someone with her feet firmly planted in reality. “Really, Mother, I thought death might have gifted you with a little more creativity than that. Please, go away so I can enjoy my imprisonment without your insane ramblings.”
“You think this is your prison?”
“Hmm, dank dark cell with metal bars. Yes, it looks like a prison to me.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “Oh my poor child, you are so stupid. You’ve learned nothing.”
“Oh, I’ve learned plenty.”
“He loved you. He loved you more than he had ever loved anyone else.”
“Shut up.”
“Somehow, he made you feel something. There’s no light within you, and yet somehow he penetrated that darkness, didn’t he?”
“I said shut up.”
That cruel smile grew wider, her eyes almost glowing with excitement. “You deny it, but deep down you loved him too and you knew you didn’t deserve him. You knew what would happen if you stayed, and you were too selfish to walk away to save him.”
“Please,” I whispered, “please, stop.”
“Your crimes couldn’t go unpunished forever, Selene. Too much blood was on your hands and so it was that his death became your punishment.” She walked around my body in a slow circle, her footsteps in time with the dripping water. “This room isn’t your prison. Your prison is walking through this world all alone never to be loved again.”
“I said shut the fuck up!” I screamed so hard and so loud that I sat up from the force of it. Tears burned my eyes and rolled down my cheeks, and my shoulders started to shake. “Go away! Get away from me!”
“Selene?” Warm arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. “Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real. We’ve been drugged.” Volos rocked me while I sobbed into his shoulder, shushing me and smoothing out my hair as though I were a frail child in the grip of a fevered nightmare. At some point I was aware that my hair was damp from his own tears, and when I looked up at his face, his eyes were squeezed shut. Whatever he had seen terrified him in a way I thought impossible for Volos.
We held each other for many hours while we waited for the drugs to run their course. I could only pray he never asked me what the drugs made me see.
Fandom: Original
Prompt: #212 - Your prison is walking through this world all alone.
Warnings: Language, adult themes.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Drugged with Dreamdust, Selene gets an unpleasant visit from her mother.
Word Count: 1,051
Notes: A rush job that I worked on in between packing boxes and loading up my truck. Had to post this now as I'll be moving to North Carolina Saturday and will be without internet access for a few days afterward.
In the days following Mykolas’s death, I dreamed. I dreamed of him, of blood, and of death. Every night I relived the scene of his blood splattering across the wall as the bullet shattered his skull. Each morning I woke up with my voice hoarse from screaming for Perun’s men to stop, to let Mykolas go, or to kill me too.
At some merciful point, they lessened in frequency. It would be a lie to say this happened because I found closure or that I had somehow healed. The truth was that I became numb to the horror and the pain. I stared dispassionately into Mykolas’s eyes when the gun fired, no longer able to muster so much as a whimper as his head snapped back and the light faded from those handsome gray eyes.
Sometimes it was me who pulled the trigger.
I ruminated over these facts while I sat alone in a dank cell listening to the constant drip of a leaky pipe. If I had known the bastards had dosed me with Dreamdust, I would have focused my thoughts on something far more pleasant. Of course, even if I had, it may not have been enough to stop the hallucinations.
“It’s your fault. All of it is your fault.”
The voice came from the corner of the cell where the shadows were thickest. When I looked in that direction, my vision blurred and I thought I saw movement within the darkness.
“Their blood is on your hands.”
I rubbed my eyes, but my eyesight continued to worsen and the room started to spin. The shadows pushed together and took on the shape of a woman. She moved toward me until she was roughly two feet away.
“And if you don’t kill them, they run away from you. It’s always been this way.” My mother’s eyes were as cold and lifeless as I remembered. “You’re all alone with no one to blame but yourself.”
Laughing, I tried to push myself to my feet only to find my limbs were too weak to support my weight. I slumped over to the floor, still chuckling as I told my mother, “You’re dead.”
“Even in death I am more alive than you ever were.”
“Oh goody,” I said, “you’ve become a philosopher.”
She began slowly pacing back and forth in front of me, her form flickering and becoming less solid whenever she turned. “You chilled my womb while you were inside of me. Do you know why?”
“I see you’re still crazy.” I turned my head to the side, away from the sight of her. The cold concrete scratched my cheek.
“It’s because you’re dead inside.” Her face appeared inches from mine. Had I any control over my body, I would have screamed and lashed out at her. “You’ve always been dead, always been evil.” She resumed her pacing and I tried to look away again, but her apparition followed me. I couldn’t escape it.
“You fucked whoever you could. All you needed was a warm body, male or female. You fucked to feel something, anything, but everything was hollow inside.” The smile she offered was cruel. “Even when you killed, you felt nothing—no guilt, no pleasure, no joy. Nothing. Haven’t you ever wondered why that is?”
I kept reminding myself she was an illusion, a manifestation of my fears and insecurities. Dreamdust could send the sanest of people over the edge and to continue conversing with my dead mother would most certainly pose a serious threat to my mental health. That’s what I told myself at any rate, but it was too late. Her verbal arrows managed to find their target.
“What the fuck is your point?” I asked through clenched teeth. My fingers curled into tight fists at my sides.
“You’re soulless.”
“Ha! Is that the best you can do? I’m soulless?” I started laughing again. It wasn’t the laughter of someone with her feet firmly planted in reality. “Really, Mother, I thought death might have gifted you with a little more creativity than that. Please, go away so I can enjoy my imprisonment without your insane ramblings.”
“You think this is your prison?”
“Hmm, dank dark cell with metal bars. Yes, it looks like a prison to me.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “Oh my poor child, you are so stupid. You’ve learned nothing.”
“Oh, I’ve learned plenty.”
“He loved you. He loved you more than he had ever loved anyone else.”
“Shut up.”
“Somehow, he made you feel something. There’s no light within you, and yet somehow he penetrated that darkness, didn’t he?”
“I said shut up.”
That cruel smile grew wider, her eyes almost glowing with excitement. “You deny it, but deep down you loved him too and you knew you didn’t deserve him. You knew what would happen if you stayed, and you were too selfish to walk away to save him.”
“Please,” I whispered, “please, stop.”
“Your crimes couldn’t go unpunished forever, Selene. Too much blood was on your hands and so it was that his death became your punishment.” She walked around my body in a slow circle, her footsteps in time with the dripping water. “This room isn’t your prison. Your prison is walking through this world all alone never to be loved again.”
“I said shut the fuck up!” I screamed so hard and so loud that I sat up from the force of it. Tears burned my eyes and rolled down my cheeks, and my shoulders started to shake. “Go away! Get away from me!”
“Selene?” Warm arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. “Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real. We’ve been drugged.” Volos rocked me while I sobbed into his shoulder, shushing me and smoothing out my hair as though I were a frail child in the grip of a fevered nightmare. At some point I was aware that my hair was damp from his own tears, and when I looked up at his face, his eyes were squeezed shut. Whatever he had seen terrified him in a way I thought impossible for Volos.
We held each other for many hours while we waited for the drugs to run their course. I could only pray he never asked me what the drugs made me see.
