[Challenge][Fiction] Escape
Wow. I'm early! ... And I actually submitted something for the challenge!
... This is... dark. At least, dark for something coming from me, usually a lighthearted/humor writer. But I wrote it anyway. Odd.
Again an excerpt of something that exists. In the same "no name" style. So these characters are really existing characters of mine. But if you don't know who they are, I won't say either this time.
Title: Escape
Rating: R (yes, I do think this is R)
Word Count: 700+
There was blood. Blood seeped on the sheets. Blood matted the dark, rotting wood. Blood stained the peeling paint. Blood on his tattered clothes. On his hands. His chest. Fresh splatters on his neck and face. Soaking into his disheveled shirt.
He could still feel the callouses that chafed against his skin, the hot breath of his nearness, dark smiling eyes that bore ill-intent, sneering lips that exposed surprisingly straight, white teeth.
He had thought the man had attacked, assaulted him, thrown himself against his own smaller body in a sudden jerk. But there was no movement after.
The man lay limp on the floor in front of him.
He had barely even moved, even after the loud bang, could only watch as the man fell forward, as his face contorted into a twisted gasp of surprise.
The sound had been deafening.
And there was blood.
The silence was deafening.
He could not move. Even if he could, he had no will to move.
His body was not his own.
Time stood still for a moment. A moment that lasted a lifetime.
He finally saw it. A white vision that was not there before, visible against the darkness of the room. The darkness of his existence.
An apparition stood in the door. A tall figure in a pale dress. A face that a mother should have. Eyes that a mother should have. That he had always imagined a mother should have, instead of dull, listless eyes. Instead of the detached, frivolous glint that he barely remembered from two years before.
His savior? An angel? Or was she death? Or was she both, a glorious angel of death?
The vision moved. A glint came from her side, from an item she held in her hand. He could not see it. He did not care.
She stopped before him. Her eyes watched him, her soft eyes filled with a glow he could not recognize. Filled with thoughts that he had could not fathom.
An eternity existed between them.
The silence broke.
Her lips moved. Her voice left her and traveled in the stillness between them towards his ears. It was gentle. It was a sweet melody that enveloped him in warmth, embraced him with all the care that he had never experienced before.
"Escape."
It was the only word she said. A single word that held a multitude of emotions that he barely understood. A single word that shot through his system, like a needle that had been thrust into his mind.
Escape? Escape from the prison that was his home? Escape from the sickening, twisted horror movie that he existed in for the eternity of two years?
Laughter filled the room, starting as a short giggle, a soft chuckle of perverse amusement. It soon evolved into that near maniacal.
His shoulders shook. His sides ached. The laughter continued.
He realized at last the laughter was his own.
He laughed. Even if the laugh only hurt his insides. Even if there was no will in him to laugh.
There was no escape.
Death was the only escape.
She moved closer to him. He looked up at her again and there was still a twisted grin plastered across his lips. An unhinged smile that seemed to have been affixed there by another, different from the pretend smile he wore outside, different from the quiet weak smiles he had given the very few he had befriended.
He realized that perhaps, she had come for him.
And if she was death, then he would come with her.
He held his hands out to her, the warped grin on his face.
Yes. Save me. Rescue me. Help me escape from this endless cage of life.
And perhaps he may find peace.
They were words that he said not with his voice, but they were words said with his eyes.
If she understood, he did not know.
A hand enclosed his wrist. Tugged him forcefully, but kindly. All else lost meaning. He could not feel, could not hear, could not see. All else was a blur.
And soon he saw that proverbial light at the end of a long dark tunnel.
Maybe he was free at last.
It was later he learned that she was not death.
She may not have brought him peace, but she brought him so much more.
She brought him escape.
She brought him meaning.
She brought him life.
... This is... dark. At least, dark for something coming from me, usually a lighthearted/humor writer. But I wrote it anyway. Odd.
Again an excerpt of something that exists. In the same "no name" style. So these characters are really existing characters of mine. But if you don't know who they are, I won't say either this time.
Title: Escape
Rating: R (yes, I do think this is R)
Word Count: 700+
There was blood. Blood seeped on the sheets. Blood matted the dark, rotting wood. Blood stained the peeling paint. Blood on his tattered clothes. On his hands. His chest. Fresh splatters on his neck and face. Soaking into his disheveled shirt.
He could still feel the callouses that chafed against his skin, the hot breath of his nearness, dark smiling eyes that bore ill-intent, sneering lips that exposed surprisingly straight, white teeth.
He had thought the man had attacked, assaulted him, thrown himself against his own smaller body in a sudden jerk. But there was no movement after.
The man lay limp on the floor in front of him.
He had barely even moved, even after the loud bang, could only watch as the man fell forward, as his face contorted into a twisted gasp of surprise.
The sound had been deafening.
And there was blood.
The silence was deafening.
He could not move. Even if he could, he had no will to move.
His body was not his own.
Time stood still for a moment. A moment that lasted a lifetime.
He finally saw it. A white vision that was not there before, visible against the darkness of the room. The darkness of his existence.
An apparition stood in the door. A tall figure in a pale dress. A face that a mother should have. Eyes that a mother should have. That he had always imagined a mother should have, instead of dull, listless eyes. Instead of the detached, frivolous glint that he barely remembered from two years before.
His savior? An angel? Or was she death? Or was she both, a glorious angel of death?
The vision moved. A glint came from her side, from an item she held in her hand. He could not see it. He did not care.
She stopped before him. Her eyes watched him, her soft eyes filled with a glow he could not recognize. Filled with thoughts that he had could not fathom.
An eternity existed between them.
The silence broke.
Her lips moved. Her voice left her and traveled in the stillness between them towards his ears. It was gentle. It was a sweet melody that enveloped him in warmth, embraced him with all the care that he had never experienced before.
"Escape."
It was the only word she said. A single word that held a multitude of emotions that he barely understood. A single word that shot through his system, like a needle that had been thrust into his mind.
Escape? Escape from the prison that was his home? Escape from the sickening, twisted horror movie that he existed in for the eternity of two years?
Laughter filled the room, starting as a short giggle, a soft chuckle of perverse amusement. It soon evolved into that near maniacal.
His shoulders shook. His sides ached. The laughter continued.
He realized at last the laughter was his own.
He laughed. Even if the laugh only hurt his insides. Even if there was no will in him to laugh.
There was no escape.
Death was the only escape.
She moved closer to him. He looked up at her again and there was still a twisted grin plastered across his lips. An unhinged smile that seemed to have been affixed there by another, different from the pretend smile he wore outside, different from the quiet weak smiles he had given the very few he had befriended.
He realized that perhaps, she had come for him.
And if she was death, then he would come with her.
He held his hands out to her, the warped grin on his face.
Yes. Save me. Rescue me. Help me escape from this endless cage of life.
And perhaps he may find peace.
They were words that he said not with his voice, but they were words said with his eyes.
If she understood, he did not know.
A hand enclosed his wrist. Tugged him forcefully, but kindly. All else lost meaning. He could not feel, could not hear, could not see. All else was a blur.
And soon he saw that proverbial light at the end of a long dark tunnel.
Maybe he was free at last.
It was later he learned that she was not death.
She may not have brought him peace, but she brought him so much more.
She brought him escape.
She brought him meaning.
She brought him life.