Haloperidol: Chapter One
Title: Haloperidol (chapter 1)
Author/Artist: me (marinamadness)
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, Prussia, Russia/Ukraine
Rating: R-15 (nondescriptive sex)
Warnings: nonconsensual, mental illness
Summary: Haloperidol: a decades-old antipsychotic. Serious and debilitating side effects often occur. (this is a story about uncertainty)
CHAPTER ONE
"Ivan? There's someone to see you. It's your sister."
A voice rings in his ears but he doesn't know whose it is. The faceless nurse turns, waiting for a
reply.
"Nata... Not Natalia... No..." Fingers run down his face, and he can feel the knife cut into him, just like his dreams.
Natalia is pretty, so very pretty, but she is terrifying.
"Ivan?" Hands on his left shoulder, hands on his right shoulder, hands on his other shoulder.
Shaking and crying and sobbing and laughing. Sweet Natalia, always staring so blankly with those blaming eyes. Always screaming and screeching.
"Ivan?" No-Face Nurse shakes all his shoulders, his voice piercing like Natalia's knife that stabs him over and over in his nightmares.
"Ivan, can you hear me?" And he turns and No-Face Nurse's nametag reads Gilbert Beillschmidt but that cant be right, because he strangled him three weeks ago, and the blood is still right there on his hands.
"Ivan?" No-Face Nurse's voice, stentorian and echoing, cavernous and pan-dimensional. Ivan, Ivan, Ivan.
"Marry me, Ivan" says the child's voice and he remembers. How they played house and she was the mommy and he was the daddy. When did the games stop, when did they mutate into something darker?
"No, not Natalia, not Natasha, Nata, no..." His fingers go into his eyes and they gouge out his flesh but nobody else can see.
Please Natalia, this is what married people do, you always wanted to marry me.
"No, not Natalia, she's not here. Yekaterina's come to visit." And it passes, and psychosis becomes lucidity, becomes regression. No-Face Nurse grows the skin back from his bones slowly.
"Katyusha?" Dull violet eyes brighten, and a bit of the life returns. A childish smile plays on his lips.
And then the door opens in a burst of light. How beautiful, a beautiful angel. Beauteous, bodacious, bouncing, beautiful busty Katyusha, tears forming in her eyes and her breasts jiggling as she sobs.
Something lower stirs, and he shouldn't feel like this. It's wrong and disgusting and he should be locked up in a mental institution.
"Oh, but I already am! Silly me!" Ivan laughs to himself, and the others stare. Shadows tiptoe around padded lavender walls as he loses himself in his private joke.
"I'm sorry, Yekaterina," No-Face Nurse says. "I don't think we're going to be able to release Ivan for a long time. He's not going to be able to come home."
"Gilbert..." she sobs, and falls into his arms. She breaks down.
Two pairs of feet leave together and the door closes. Ivan fails to notice. Katyusha takes her car and drives and drives until she meets the sunrise.
Ivan dreams.
It is a beautiful sunny day, and Ivan is planting sunflowers in a small garden. Barefoot, Natalia, five years old, drags a rag doll in the dirt until she meets her older brother. Ivan is nine years old.
"Vanyaaaaaa, let's play house." She thrusts the doll at him.
Ivan picks it up gingerly. "Why? House is a stupid game."
"Come on, I'll be the loving mommy and you can be..." Her five-year-old mind processes for a while, then comes up with: "The sunflower daddy!" She beams.
"Go away Nata, I'm planting sunflowers." Ivan turns away. In the distance, he hears Natalia throw the doll down on the ground and run off.
"Wait, Natalia!" Ivan chases after her footsteps, and the sky grows darker and darker.
Natalia grows older, perhaps seven, as they run. Abruptly, she stops. "Vanushka, I wish I could marry-" and here her voice grows unintelligible- "-you!" She smiles in a lovely fashion, missing teeth...just adding to her cuteness.
They turn around and spin like pinwheels, and continue to age. He suddenly grows to be sixteen, as she grows to be twelve. He grows taller and more muscular, she lenghtens out, grows her hair longer, and starts to develop the beginnings of breasts. She would never be as ample as Katyusha, but she was still beautiful.
Thick dark clouds of billowing fog cover all, and Ivan curls up in his bed.
Natalia steps through the mist quietly and creeps into Ivan's bed beside him as the air grows chokingly humid.
"Natalia, what are you doing?"
She holds a knife in her hand, whispers "Please marry me."
"What are you trying-"
With the large blade, she cuts herself free of the nightgown and shimmies out of it, naked. "Marry me." Her voice is garbled and doesn't move in time to her lips.
"Natasha, no-" She holds a slender finger to his lips and carefully, carefully takes her knife and
cuts through his boxers.
Slowly, gently, her hand grasps around him. It's shameful and embarrassing and wrong, but he can't stop and his body is filthy, filthy.
How she clambers atop him, in the fog and the haze and the moonlight. Her face, blank of emotion. Juvenile, pubescent breasts moving ever so slightly in the night air.
Natalia, beneath him, blank and expressionless. Blaming, judging.
Natalia is so beautiful, but terrifying and monstrous at the same time.
Inhuman noises escape her but her lips stay sealed. Screeching and screaming, so unattractive. The tiniest of whimpers. Her eyes remain dull and lifeless, almost like a doll.
Just as she takes her knife and drives it down into his heart,
Ivan dies le petit mort, jerking and spasming in short, rhythmic busts, and-
Light from the barred window falls onto his open eyes. Beneath two sheets and a blanket, pearly white liquid spills and sticks. Tears dry on his pinkened cheeks.
The dreams of his sister have grown more and more terrifying, and more and more common.
Ivan showers and puts the sheets in the laundry bin, as always.
END CHAPTER ONE
Author/Artist: me (marinamadness)
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, Prussia, Russia/Ukraine
Rating: R-15 (nondescriptive sex)
Warnings: nonconsensual, mental illness
Summary: Haloperidol: a decades-old antipsychotic. Serious and debilitating side effects often occur. (this is a story about uncertainty)
CHAPTER ONE
"Ivan? There's someone to see you. It's your sister."
A voice rings in his ears but he doesn't know whose it is. The faceless nurse turns, waiting for a
reply.
"Nata... Not Natalia... No..." Fingers run down his face, and he can feel the knife cut into him, just like his dreams.
Natalia is pretty, so very pretty, but she is terrifying.
"Ivan?" Hands on his left shoulder, hands on his right shoulder, hands on his other shoulder.
Shaking and crying and sobbing and laughing. Sweet Natalia, always staring so blankly with those blaming eyes. Always screaming and screeching.
"Ivan?" No-Face Nurse shakes all his shoulders, his voice piercing like Natalia's knife that stabs him over and over in his nightmares.
"Ivan, can you hear me?" And he turns and No-Face Nurse's nametag reads Gilbert Beillschmidt but that cant be right, because he strangled him three weeks ago, and the blood is still right there on his hands.
"Ivan?" No-Face Nurse's voice, stentorian and echoing, cavernous and pan-dimensional. Ivan, Ivan, Ivan.
"Marry me, Ivan" says the child's voice and he remembers. How they played house and she was the mommy and he was the daddy. When did the games stop, when did they mutate into something darker?
"No, not Natalia, not Natasha, Nata, no..." His fingers go into his eyes and they gouge out his flesh but nobody else can see.
Please Natalia, this is what married people do, you always wanted to marry me.
"No, not Natalia, she's not here. Yekaterina's come to visit." And it passes, and psychosis becomes lucidity, becomes regression. No-Face Nurse grows the skin back from his bones slowly.
"Katyusha?" Dull violet eyes brighten, and a bit of the life returns. A childish smile plays on his lips.
And then the door opens in a burst of light. How beautiful, a beautiful angel. Beauteous, bodacious, bouncing, beautiful busty Katyusha, tears forming in her eyes and her breasts jiggling as she sobs.
Something lower stirs, and he shouldn't feel like this. It's wrong and disgusting and he should be locked up in a mental institution.
"Oh, but I already am! Silly me!" Ivan laughs to himself, and the others stare. Shadows tiptoe around padded lavender walls as he loses himself in his private joke.
"I'm sorry, Yekaterina," No-Face Nurse says. "I don't think we're going to be able to release Ivan for a long time. He's not going to be able to come home."
"Gilbert..." she sobs, and falls into his arms. She breaks down.
Two pairs of feet leave together and the door closes. Ivan fails to notice. Katyusha takes her car and drives and drives until she meets the sunrise.
Ivan dreams.
It is a beautiful sunny day, and Ivan is planting sunflowers in a small garden. Barefoot, Natalia, five years old, drags a rag doll in the dirt until she meets her older brother. Ivan is nine years old.
"Vanyaaaaaa, let's play house." She thrusts the doll at him.
Ivan picks it up gingerly. "Why? House is a stupid game."
"Come on, I'll be the loving mommy and you can be..." Her five-year-old mind processes for a while, then comes up with: "The sunflower daddy!" She beams.
"Go away Nata, I'm planting sunflowers." Ivan turns away. In the distance, he hears Natalia throw the doll down on the ground and run off.
"Wait, Natalia!" Ivan chases after her footsteps, and the sky grows darker and darker.
Natalia grows older, perhaps seven, as they run. Abruptly, she stops. "Vanushka, I wish I could marry-" and here her voice grows unintelligible- "-you!" She smiles in a lovely fashion, missing teeth...just adding to her cuteness.
They turn around and spin like pinwheels, and continue to age. He suddenly grows to be sixteen, as she grows to be twelve. He grows taller and more muscular, she lenghtens out, grows her hair longer, and starts to develop the beginnings of breasts. She would never be as ample as Katyusha, but she was still beautiful.
Thick dark clouds of billowing fog cover all, and Ivan curls up in his bed.
Natalia steps through the mist quietly and creeps into Ivan's bed beside him as the air grows chokingly humid.
"Natalia, what are you doing?"
She holds a knife in her hand, whispers "Please marry me."
"What are you trying-"
With the large blade, she cuts herself free of the nightgown and shimmies out of it, naked. "Marry me." Her voice is garbled and doesn't move in time to her lips.
"Natasha, no-" She holds a slender finger to his lips and carefully, carefully takes her knife and
cuts through his boxers.
Slowly, gently, her hand grasps around him. It's shameful and embarrassing and wrong, but he can't stop and his body is filthy, filthy.
How she clambers atop him, in the fog and the haze and the moonlight. Her face, blank of emotion. Juvenile, pubescent breasts moving ever so slightly in the night air.
Natalia, beneath him, blank and expressionless. Blaming, judging.
Natalia is so beautiful, but terrifying and monstrous at the same time.
Inhuman noises escape her but her lips stay sealed. Screeching and screaming, so unattractive. The tiniest of whimpers. Her eyes remain dull and lifeless, almost like a doll.
Just as she takes her knife and drives it down into his heart,
Ivan dies le petit mort, jerking and spasming in short, rhythmic busts, and-
Light from the barred window falls onto his open eyes. Beneath two sheets and a blanket, pearly white liquid spills and sticks. Tears dry on his pinkened cheeks.
The dreams of his sister have grown more and more terrifying, and more and more common.
Ivan showers and puts the sheets in the laundry bin, as always.
END CHAPTER ONE