Beautiful Nightmare

There's no such thing as happy endings.

“Colors,” she sighs, lightly tracing the vivid canvas with her fingertips. “Such beautiful colors.”

Tick.

She stops for a moment and frowns.

Tock.

Her frown morphs into a grimace.

Tick.

The countdown is starting.

Tock.

She snatches up a sketchbook with different colors all over the cover, and flips it open to a new page.

Tick.

She picks up a pencil and concentrates on getting the basic shape of the design in front of her, while she subconsciously memorizes all of the colors.

Tock.

No. Not good enough,

Tick.

Never good enough.

Tock.

She erases the sharp edges and redraws them.

Tick.

She seeks perfection.

Tock.

It all needs to flow.

Tick.

It all needs to look perfect.

Tock.

Her eyes go wide, and the image of an old door takes over her vision. Slowly, it swings open, and creaking echos throughout her mind.

And then the clocks start up again. But faster.

Tick. Tock.

No, no, no!

Tick. Tock.

It's not right, not right at all!

Tick. Tock.

Time. She needs time. She has time. Right?

Tick. Tock.

Maybe not. Maybe she needs---

Ticktock.

Her hand scribbles furiously across the page.

Ticktock.

Faster and faster and faster---

Ticktockticktock.

Her hands are a blur of movement, sketching at a speed impossible to comprehend when---

The sound of a bell fills her brain, and her veins turn to ice. Her body freezes, and it becomes futile to even attempt to move.

Color starts to fade from everything, and objects get darker. Things start to shift closer and closer together, until her vision starts to blur, and nothing is distinguishable. Darker, darker. Everything becomes darker and darker until everything turns to black.

And then, her vision fades completely.

XxoxX

Char wakes up in the middle of her room.

She's sprawled out on the hardwood floor, and very disoriented.

From her current position on her side, she can see the door that leads to the rest of the apartment, and empty shelves. Which...shouldn't be empty.

Char sits up abruptly, the haze that has a hold over her brain clearing. She blinks and frowns.

Her sketchbooks lay scattered on the floor, used and unmarked alike. No wonder the shelves are cleared.

To her right, the pencils that should be on her desk in a neat little pile are tossed around the corner, and her paintbrushes aren't in their cases.

To her left, stacks of canvases are knocked over. While most are fine, some are smashed and ripped to pieces.

Slowly, Char gets to her feet. Shaking her head, she holds her hands to her chest and takes a few steps back. It's not long until she bumps into something.

She jumps and spins around only to find her isle. With and empty canvas. And hat rainbow covered book.

Not wanting to believe what she already knows to be true, she reaches for it, and flips it open to the last used page.

Swirls.

She visibly relaxes.

This was one of her better insane moments. There wasn't anything morbid, at least.

It's beyond her how she could ever create such horrifying pieces of art.

Her.

She hates knowing that it's a part of her. No matter how much she denies it, it's true. And she knows it.

Char snaps the sketchbook shut and throws it into the open bathroom door. She doesn't want to see it, doesn't want to be anywhere near the product of her insanity.

She walks to her dresser, and takes in her appearance in the large mirror.

There are dark spots that no make-up would be able to hide under her green eyes, and her cheeks look hallowed out. Her blond hair looks dirty and oily, and she can detect the beginning of split ends. There's dried paint on her face and all over her white clothes. She thinks there's some orange in her hair, but can't tell.

Char purses her lips, then shrugs. She's hungry, and can take a shower after she eats something. She's about to go when she sees some pills on the edge of her dresser. She picks them up and examines them.

They're round, an oval shape. About the size of her pinky nail, they were purple. And most definitely aren't her normal medication.

Crystal must have put them on there at one point in time, but she can't seem to remember when. They looked suspicious, but then again, most of her treatments were. But if it helped treat her schizophrenia, she wasn't complaining. Crystal was the head of the research department for the disease, and it wasn't all that unusual for some type of medicine to appear in her room. She was expected to take them, she learned after awhile.

So she shrugs, and dry swallows them before looking around her room again.

The pencils all over the floor are bothering her, so she straightens up her desk before leaving her room.

As Char walks down the short hallway, she sways. The dizziness overwhelms her, and she leans against the wall. She resists the wave of nausea that passes over her, and wrenches her eyes shut against the headache that bombards her brain.

Then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone. All that was left was a slight tingling sensation in her fingers.

She shakes her head, and starts to hear the sound of clocks ticking. 

Confused, she raises her head.

Char regrets this immensely.

In the corner on the hall, the shadows seem to turn into something. The once shapeless darkness comes to life, and gains a body of its own.

It has hands, no, claws. Razor sharp claws. Its mouth settles into a sadistic grin, showing off its impossibly white shark teeth. And its eyes...Its eyes are are a horrible bright red that seem to glow. Black is intertwined within the malevolent orbs, and the piercing blue pupils seem to stare into your soul.

It's not human, can't be. Everything about it just screams demonic.

Char wants to run, more than anything. But she can't. She's frozen solid as the demon saunters over to her. It's all she can do to slide to the floor, try to become invisible.

But it still finds her.

It cups her cheek with its claws, and just stares at her.

“Madness isn't a state of mind,” it growls out in voice lower and more distorted than anything she could dream of.

She feels something warm seep through her paint stained pants, and soak her shirt.

Char dares a look down.

Crimson blood. Blood.

Her blood.

It's then she gains control over he body.

She let's out a scream, a bloodcurdling scream, high enough to shatter glass.

Footsteps echo around her, and in a puff of smoke, the demon is gone. It's replaced by her sister, Crystal.

Char blinks up at her, and stares into worried blue eyes.

“Are you okay? Char, what happened? You're crying...”

Crystal worried over her, but Char's mind is elsewhere.

Where did all the blood go?

She reaches up and is surprised to find tears. She looks down and find that the only thing on her pants is from her tears.

“But the demon,” Char says pointing to the corner,”was right there.”
Crystal turns to where she pointed, and then back to her.

“There's nothing there.”

“Yes, there was!” Char insists.

Crystal looks at her skeptically, and runs a hand through her dirty blond hair.

“Did you take your medicine this morning?” Crystal asks.

Char shakes her head. “There was just the purple pills this morning.”

“Oh.” Crystal visibly relaxes. “Oh. Okay then.”

She helps Char up and guides her to her room. “Let's get you all---Oh my.”

Char stares at the while walls while her sister takes in the room's current state.

“It happened again,” Char says.

“I'm sorry I can't help,” Crystal whispers.

“You're doing your best, right?”

Crystal ignores the question. “Let's clean up, alright? Then we can have lunch.”

Char nods, and hopes that, for both their sakes, progress is made.

XxoxX

Char wakes up with the urge to cover all of the windows in the house.

So she does.

She runs to the kitchen, and finds black trash bags. After getting tape, she goes around and hangs them over the windows.

When that's all done, she locks herself in her room.

Char paces back and forth across the floor, waiting.

For the demon to come back.

For the ticking to start.

For the madness.

Madness.

What did the demon say about madness? She could have sworn---

“Madness isn't a place, you know.”

Char whirls around.

It's a little kid.

He looks about eight years old, and is wearing a long, ratty, gray shirt. 

His brown hair is tied into a ponytail.

“How did you get in here?” Char demands. Holding up a paintbrush as a weapon.

The kid tilts his head and smiles.

“You brought me here,” he giggles.

Char drops her makeshift weapon and straightens up.

“I did, did I?”

The kid nods and her eyes narrow.

“In that case, I can make you leave!”

She marches over and moves to grab his arm, only to grasp air.

Char scrambles backwards and trips over the discarded paintbrush. She falls and lands on the ground, hard.

“G-g-ghost?” she squeaks.

“I wouldn't say that,” the kid says thoughtfully, jumping onto her bed.

“What are you?”

“Madness isn't a place,” the kid whispers, suddenly a foot in front of her.

And again, she's frozen, her body a block of ice. She's stuck, staring into the same, malevolent eyes the demon possessed.

Suddenly the kid's skin starts to boil, and peel of in layers. Blood drips out of his eyes and mouth. His skin is completely removed from his body, just a pile on the floor.

“Make it stop!” the kid screeches with agony. “It hurts!”

“I...I-I can't---”

“It burns! It won't stop burning!”

Char's vision is blurred with red now, as flames engulf her bedroom. The fire forms a circle around the two, closing in on them tighter and tighter.

More of the boy is destroyed, muscle starting to peel off of his bone. Blood starts to flow more steadily onto the ground, pooling by his feet, and running in a red river towards Char.

“Your fault,” the kid growls, bloody red eyes glowing bright. “This is all your fault!”

“No...No! It can't! I don't know you!” she cries, wanting to shrink away, wanting to forget every single horrible thing she's ever witnessed.

“Everything is because of you!” he screams, voice too demonic to belong to him. “You're to blame!”

Fire engulfs what's left of his body, and he lets out a howl that leaves her blood in ice sickles, and nearly bursts her eardrums.

The kid drops on all fours. The flames take the shape of a twisted animal, and his bones are broken and reformed to the fire's internal structure.

It steps forward, splashing blood as it walks, until it's hovering over top of her. It leans in and she braces herself for the burn when there's a knock at the door.

“Char?”

The demon, fire, skin; all of it just vanished into the air as her bedroom door swings open.

“Are you okay?”

No, she's not okay. Not at all. She's going insane and it's not stopping.

But,”I'm fine. Just tripped,” is all she says.

XxoxX

Char can't sit still.

She's pacing around her house, just waiting for Crystal to get home.

She needs to get out of the house, and she can't leave by herself She's cramped and she needs air.

The front door opens and Char runs to her sister. She jumps on her, and Crystal staggers a bit under her weight.

“Did something happen?” she asks, putting her back on her feet.

“Let's go!” Char exclaims, pulling her towards the door.

“Go where? Slow down, sweetie.”

Char drops her arm and leans in the doorway.

“I need to go outside.”

She looks over her shoulder to see Crystal blink in surprise.

“It's going to rain today. Can't it wait---”

“No.”

“...Just let me change. How does ice cream sound?”

XxoxX

“Darn. Looks like the weather channel was right.”

Crystal and Char are waiting inside the park's pavilion.

Crystal checks her watch ever so often, glancing at Char ever now and then.

Char is more than happy to watch the water fall from the sky.

“Can I go play?” Char asks, pointing to the outside of their shelter.

Crystal purses her lips and eyes her skeptically. “I suppose. Don't go too far, though.”

“Yes!”

Laughing, Char races out into the park near the fountain. She's dancing around it when she feels a stinging sensation. She thinks nothing of it.

She continues to run, but the stinging only gets stronger.

Char stops and looks at her arms.

Frowning, she brushes the raindrops that had accumulated on her right arm. To her confusion, her skin seems to wrinkle.

She brushes the rain off her arm again, and her skin seems to melt off.

Char's burning now, like sunburn, despite the fact only dark clouds had loomed over the town the entire day.

She panics, and continues to desperately brush the water off of her. It's 

raining harder now, and her efforts are growing futile.

Char's skin starts to peel off her arms, just like the demon child from yesterday. Her body's on fire, and her screams are pure agony.

“I'm going to Hell,” she sobs as fire starts to engulf her feet. “I'm going to burn in Hell!”

“Don't think of it as burning,” the shadow demon says, rising from a tree's shade. “Think of it as...An extended punishment.”

The ground starts to shake, and with a giant crack, the ground splits open. The fountain falls in, and soon she's falling with it.

Down, down ,down.

Char's getting closer and closer to the raging inferno below her, but she's already burning alive.

Could it really get any worse?

“It will,” the creature growls in her ear. “Worse than you could ever imagine.”

And then there's a hand on her shoulder and she's back in the park, standing in front of the fountain.

She turns to face someone in a shiny business suit.

“Are you alright, miss?” he asks, concern laced into his words.

“I will be. Just spaced out a bit,” she says. “Thank you.”

Char runs back to the pavilion where Crystal is waiting for her.

“Hey, it stopped raining. I was just about to---”

“I need to go home. Now.”

XxoxX

It's been week since the last...Delusion? Hallucination? Insanity episode? 

She honestly has no clue what to call it.

She's just glad they're gone.

Char's home alone, and she's painting in peace.

The meticulous brush strokes are calming, and classical music is playing from the new stereo Crystal bought her for being so good.

As she finishes a painting of the city, Crystal comes in.

“Did you take your pills yet?” she asks.

“Um, no. There weren't any,” Char says, frowning.

“No, that's good. We just came up with a new medication. It should be very affective, and kick in right away.”

She hands Char a tiny, blue pill, and a glass of water.

“This looks really small. I just need one?” the green eyed girl asks.

“Yeah. Listen, I have to go out for a bit. There's salad in the fridge, so make sure you eat. I'll be back around six.”

“Okay.”

Crystal closes the door and Char downs the pill with water before putting a clean canvas up.

As she pulls her hair into a ponytail, she feels something wet drop on her head.

Slowly she looks up.

Char needs to stop doing things she'll regret.

There's a large crack in her ceiling, and there's a thick, red liquid seeping out of it.

Another drop falls and lands on her forehead.

Shakily, her rand reaches up to wipe it away.

“Blood,” a voice says, confirming her suspicions.

Char turns around and sees a large, blue and black cat sitting in her window.

“All of the blood of all of the people you've caused the death of,” it continues in a deep, reflecting voice.

Five more drops stain her clean, white clothing.

“I didn't kill anyone,” Char protests as blood starts to rain more freely down upon her.

“Well of course you did, silly girl,” the cat says, rolling its red eyes. “If you didn't I wouldn't be here.”

“You're real?”

The blood is coming down harder now, tainting her once clean room a deep crimson.

“What do you think?” the cat asks, jumping towards her.

“I...Am not sure,” she manages.

“Then there is your answer.'

The little boy from her earlier delusion jumps in through her window.

“So if I say this isn't real, then it'll all go away?” she asks, taking a step back.

“Only if you truly believe it,” the kid says in that same demonic voice as a man slides in through the window with a little girl.

“What are they doing here?”

“Same as the rest of us!”

Char whirls around, slipping on the blood that's accumulating on the floor.

A middle aged woman stands with her arms crosses.

“It's your fault that, someway, somehow, we're dead!” she continues.

More and more people, ones she supposedly killed, filled into the room through both windows and doors.

The blood is up to her knees now and steadily rising.

She's being herded to the middle of the room, and it's hard to see. Her vision is tinged with red. Her hands can't keep up with the blood falling into her eyes, and she feels like she'll puke from the coppery smell.

“You set the house on fire,” the woman hisses.

“You made me drown!” a little girl cried.

“You got me hit by a car!”

“You didn't tell me I could fall!”

“You didn't tell me the dog wasn't safe!”

Up to her waist now, the red is over everything, anything. The once clean white is now stained a malevolent crimson, its presence turning the 

already infuriated people murderous.

Char feels small cuts being made into her skin, their words both mentally and physically painful.

And then it freezes.

“Still think this could be real?” the cat asks walking on the surface of the blood. He saunters towards her, his lean body weaving in between the small space the mod allotted.

“You can't get hurt in dreams,” Char says, eyes wide with fear.

“Oh really?” The cat pauses for a moment before tarting towards her again. “What about last time?”

She can remember the burning, the suffering, the pure fear---

“How do you know about that?” Char whispers.

“Because. We're all a part of you.”

Char makes a break for the only door she knows leads out of the room as time unfreezes around her. She pushes her way through the crowd, avoiding the snatches and grabs directed at her. She breaks down the door, not having time to fiddle with the lock with her own demons at her heels.

Outside, she's in a wonderland.

A long, rushing river the color purple flows where the floor should be, and a rainbow of neon colors pour out of thin air.

Char runs down the winding stone path that twists and allows her to run on the ceiling and walls. But with every step she takes, the 

wonderland grows darker, less vivid.

The water no longer flows freely, but is reduced to the consistency of mud. The rainbows no longer let colors shine through, but spew dark browns, and remind her of sludge.

She's tired, and when she reaches the winding stairs, all of it goes back to normal.

Char sighs and looks around. She's near the roof entrance, so her mind must have lead her outside her apartment.

She shakes her head and continues to where her subconscious guided her. She climbs the ladder, the once access point to the roof, only to be grabbed by the hair and thrown to the ground.

The sky is a deep red, with only a full blue moon. Spirits fly around, and fire consumes everything.

The mob slowly rises up to the top of the building, carrying up the fire with them. They run towards her, grab her, and throw her around in a circle.

The fire burns her arms, and it's all she can do to stay on her feet as she's roughly pushed around.

“Still think this is real?” the cat asks, suddenly floating about her on a black cloud.

“I don't know!” Char screeches over the people's wails.

“One way to find out,” it says. “All you have to do is---”

“If I think I'm going to die, I'll wake up!” she thinks out loud.

“Are you sure?” it questions, tilting its head.

Without responding, Char bursts out of the crowd and runs towards the edge. As her foot leaves the top of the building, the cat speaks once more.

“Madness is a place inside your head, girl. A shame you couldn't stay much longer.”

But Char's already jumped off the roof before three things click into her mind.

She's insane.

She's hallucinating.

She's falling off the top of a building.

The scene around her fades, and all she needs know that she's going to die is the sky getting farther and farther out of her reach.

She closes her eyes, enjoying the feel of flying.

No, falling. Not flying.

It's close enough, though, she thinks to herself. Flying is like falling. 

Except there's a more permanent destination.

Wasn't it Sherlock that said that?

Oh, well, she thinks as her skull comes in contact with the ground.

And then she's dead.

At least, in the end, she knew the Hell was only inside her head.

Author's Note

...Yeah. Didn't get this done in time for the contest, but it exceeds the word limit anyway. 3000 words anyone?
Yeah.

Reviews

[r]

Oh my f*****g God, that was absolutely brilliantly amazing. As soon as I saw that she was heading up towards the top of the building, I knew what she was going to do. But this was absolutely beautiful and absolutely f*****g awesome. I love all the colors, and the images of her craziness, and the cat reminded me of the Chesire cat. I just ah gah God, I loved the way you described everything. And the end, yeah, that quote, it's from Sherlock, but Jim Moriarty says it. And I love the last line. Yup. She gets that little bit of peace anyway.

But, God, this is beautiful, and I love it.

I LIKE DARK TWISTED THINGS, YESSIIIIIREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE~

[snarled musings]

I really enjoy your style of writing. You use great descriptions, and I like the way you weave the story. I'll be sure to check up your other works!

This is an interesting story, with wonderfully descriptive sentences! There are few small mistakes I noticed:
"isle" should say easel.
"hat rainbow covered book" should say that.
It should say hollowed cheeks, rather than "hallowed."
In this sentence: "Crystal checks her watch ever so often, glancing at Char ever now and then" the two "evers" should say every.
Other than that, I enjoyed reading it. Loved the ending!