Week 14, Day 2 [Dream]
Warning for disturbing sexual content.
There is a piano in the room. The windows open, light coming in through the gauzy curtains that billow in the breeze. Dead leaves on the floor. Dust covers the floor, the piano, the bench, and you stir.
"Kristoph."
You turn to her voice, and there she is. She was beautiful, but her face is covered by a veil and she is dressed in black. Her hands are thin, and she reaches out to you.
And you hate her.
"Mother."
Your voice is young, younger than you can remember, and you hate it. It is weak, powerless against her will, and she sneers.
"You are mine, Kristoph." She sits down in a chair, looking at her hands for a moment, her eyes cold and harsh, predatory, like a hawk's. "Do you know that?"
And you hate her.
But you nod softly, and then meet those cold eyes. And she simply laughs softly, looking away.
"If not for you, I would not be stuck here."
And she thinks you do not understand. And you finally open your mouth to speak. But this time, it is not a child's voice, but your own. The words come easily.
"You cannot blame me for your own mistakes."
And she looks at you then, narrowing those eyes before she looks away.
"You think you know how to speak now, Kristoph? You think that you know things just because you are older now?"
And it is true- you are. You are no longer a child, but a man, and you sit down at the piano bench, crossing one leg over the other. You fold your hands in your lap, and you smile.
"Strange, mother, how we find ourselves here again, is it not?"
And she turns, those eye burning through her veil, and when she speaks her tongue forks at the end.
And you hate her.
"Kristoph. I always hated you." She narrows those white-hot burning eyes, and you simply nod.
"I know."
And there are bandages on her legs, rotted and stinking, and she lifts her skirt slightly, blood falling to the floor. You can hear it, hear the rain of it against the wood floor, and her forked tongue trails out of her mouth.
"Come here, Kristoph."
And this time, you shake your head slightly.
"I just want to love you." One hand holding her skirt, the other reaches out, and there are strings on you now, and she pulls at them, pulls you closer.
And then the world breaks.
The wood is rotting, the piano broken and slumping in the room, and still she pulls you closer, and you try, you try to fight back, but you can't move. And you feel the twitching in your face, feel the bile rising in your throat as you fight against the strings. They bite in, and it hurts, but more than that, you know you can't inch closer.
And then you look at her. The strings are tight, so tight around your wrists that you can feel your hands going cold, and you know they're turning purple, but still you struggle. But you look at her, and her eyes are gone. Her maw is larger now, venomous lips painted bloody red and her tongue darts out between her sharp, pointed teeth. She has legs now, too many of them underneath her skirt, and they are bandages, wrapped in barbed wire.
"Kristoph."
And you turn your head so you don't have to look at her, but she steps closer as she pulls you in line a fish on a line. And then she has you, and you can feel the shaking in your body, the revulsion as she presses her body against yours, as her hand snakes lower, lower, and you struggle as your face twitches.
"Let me love you."
And this isn't about love. Sex never was, and you know that, but it doesn't matter. Her hand goes lower, grabbing yours, and she takes it, her grip stronger than you could have imagined it, and she presses it against her, low, right where those impossibly many legs begin. It's hot and wet and you feel nothing but revulsion for this creature.
And you hate her.
And she coos at you, eyes all gone but lips against your ear as you struggle to be free. You have no words, for once, and you try to pull back from her, but you're trapped. And that is when she presses those lips against you, and you can feel the tingling in your skin where they were. And you try to move your hands, but you can't. You try to move your body, but nothing happens.
You can't even open your mouth to scream.
Powerless, you're stuck in her web, and this time, this time there is no car accident to free you from her. This time you can do nothing as she removes her veiled hat, as she strips off her dress and presses her bare body against you. And as her hands linger lower, touching you in places that make you want to escape, stripping you of your clothes and wrapping her many bandaged legs around you, she whispers in your ear.
It's the last thing you hear as everything goes dim around the edges, as the venom takes effect and she purrs softly in your ear. The wallpaper is brown, peeling, everything is rotting in this room.
"I only ever wanted to love you, my son."
And you hate her.
[Kristoph awakens with a start, gasping for air from lungs that were paralyzed in the dream just moments before. And it takes him a moment to calm himself. He closes his eyes in the dark, bringing his had to his face and willing the dream to pass, willing his face to stop twitching.
And, in spite of it all...or perhaps because of it all...he laughs. Just once, and then others follow, until he's laughing alone in the dark. He reaches for the Hitomi, just noticing that it is on, and he turns it off as the laughter subsides and he's left chuckling as the feed cuts out.]
There is a piano in the room. The windows open, light coming in through the gauzy curtains that billow in the breeze. Dead leaves on the floor. Dust covers the floor, the piano, the bench, and you stir.
"Kristoph."
You turn to her voice, and there she is. She was beautiful, but her face is covered by a veil and she is dressed in black. Her hands are thin, and she reaches out to you.
And you hate her.
"Mother."
Your voice is young, younger than you can remember, and you hate it. It is weak, powerless against her will, and she sneers.
"You are mine, Kristoph." She sits down in a chair, looking at her hands for a moment, her eyes cold and harsh, predatory, like a hawk's. "Do you know that?"
And you hate her.
But you nod softly, and then meet those cold eyes. And she simply laughs softly, looking away.
"If not for you, I would not be stuck here."
And she thinks you do not understand. And you finally open your mouth to speak. But this time, it is not a child's voice, but your own. The words come easily.
"You cannot blame me for your own mistakes."
And she looks at you then, narrowing those eyes before she looks away.
"You think you know how to speak now, Kristoph? You think that you know things just because you are older now?"
And it is true- you are. You are no longer a child, but a man, and you sit down at the piano bench, crossing one leg over the other. You fold your hands in your lap, and you smile.
"Strange, mother, how we find ourselves here again, is it not?"
And she turns, those eye burning through her veil, and when she speaks her tongue forks at the end.
And you hate her.
"Kristoph. I always hated you." She narrows those white-hot burning eyes, and you simply nod.
"I know."
And there are bandages on her legs, rotted and stinking, and she lifts her skirt slightly, blood falling to the floor. You can hear it, hear the rain of it against the wood floor, and her forked tongue trails out of her mouth.
"Come here, Kristoph."
And this time, you shake your head slightly.
"I just want to love you." One hand holding her skirt, the other reaches out, and there are strings on you now, and she pulls at them, pulls you closer.
And then the world breaks.
The wood is rotting, the piano broken and slumping in the room, and still she pulls you closer, and you try, you try to fight back, but you can't move. And you feel the twitching in your face, feel the bile rising in your throat as you fight against the strings. They bite in, and it hurts, but more than that, you know you can't inch closer.
And then you look at her. The strings are tight, so tight around your wrists that you can feel your hands going cold, and you know they're turning purple, but still you struggle. But you look at her, and her eyes are gone. Her maw is larger now, venomous lips painted bloody red and her tongue darts out between her sharp, pointed teeth. She has legs now, too many of them underneath her skirt, and they are bandages, wrapped in barbed wire.
"Kristoph."
And you turn your head so you don't have to look at her, but she steps closer as she pulls you in line a fish on a line. And then she has you, and you can feel the shaking in your body, the revulsion as she presses her body against yours, as her hand snakes lower, lower, and you struggle as your face twitches.
"Let me love you."
And this isn't about love. Sex never was, and you know that, but it doesn't matter. Her hand goes lower, grabbing yours, and she takes it, her grip stronger than you could have imagined it, and she presses it against her, low, right where those impossibly many legs begin. It's hot and wet and you feel nothing but revulsion for this creature.
And you hate her.
And she coos at you, eyes all gone but lips against your ear as you struggle to be free. You have no words, for once, and you try to pull back from her, but you're trapped. And that is when she presses those lips against you, and you can feel the tingling in your skin where they were. And you try to move your hands, but you can't. You try to move your body, but nothing happens.
You can't even open your mouth to scream.
Powerless, you're stuck in her web, and this time, this time there is no car accident to free you from her. This time you can do nothing as she removes her veiled hat, as she strips off her dress and presses her bare body against you. And as her hands linger lower, touching you in places that make you want to escape, stripping you of your clothes and wrapping her many bandaged legs around you, she whispers in your ear.
It's the last thing you hear as everything goes dim around the edges, as the venom takes effect and she purrs softly in your ear. The wallpaper is brown, peeling, everything is rotting in this room.
"I only ever wanted to love you, my son."
And you hate her.
[Kristoph awakens with a start, gasping for air from lungs that were paralyzed in the dream just moments before. And it takes him a moment to calm himself. He closes his eyes in the dark, bringing his had to his face and willing the dream to pass, willing his face to stop twitching.
And, in spite of it all...or perhaps because of it all...he laughs. Just once, and then others follow, until he's laughing alone in the dark. He reaches for the Hitomi, just noticing that it is on, and he turns it off as the laughter subsides and he's left chuckling as the feed cuts out.]