(no subject)
Author: Jae gurmpy
Character/Fandom: Misaki Kirihara / Darker than Black
Prompt: (if any) 01: nightmare
Word Count: Around 600
Summary: I am a copy cat, and Star's prompt made me wonder what Misaki has nightmares about.
Author Notes/Warnings: Violent imagery.
She doesn’t feel anything wrong with what she is doing. She knows it should feel wrong. She knows it should.
But it just feels like another day.
Her hands tighten around the little girl’s neck. She knows this wasn’t the way it happened. But it doesn't matter.
Manchester. The Canal. The word “Naughty” etched into every surface she can see. The little girl doesn't struggle, just stares up at her with blue eyes and blue lips and a confused expression.
“Stop!”
Her own voice, shouting in the dark, not from her throat but close by. She looks up and sees-herself. Herself, standing gun in hand, dripping blood onto the pavement. Four Japanese children, whole, undesecrated, obviously dead, stand side-by-side behind the Misaki holding the gun.
“Stop!” The same tone, same inflection, like a prerecorded message, just as ineffectual. She can’t stop herself from pressing harder on the English child’s throat. The gun-holder raises its weapon and grins. There is blood on its teeth, blood in its eyes, blood, blood everywhere, all of the blood never found at the crime scene.
“Stop.” And it's still grinning when it pulls the trigger.
Misaki bolted upright in bed, gasping, her grip on the covers tight enough to be painful. Her arm, still in its cast, throbbed painfully. That was what she got for refusing painkillers--but who could think with a head full of drugs?
She swung herself out of bed, trying to stop the waves of trembling that coursed through her. Every night. Every night. She couldn't sleep through them any more. She thought about the feeling of her hands on the girl's flesh, heaved and ran for the bathroom. By the time she got there she had enough control to keep herself from being sick all over. Her cell was where she'd left it after her bath--by the sink, no missed calls. She flipped it open and dialed Kanami's number while she a sink full of cold water.
"Muhlo, whosere?"
"Sorry to wake you." Misaki stared at her reflection, the dark circles of exhaustion under her eyes. God, she looked awful.
"Mmmff..." A shifting of covers on the other end. "Misaki?" A groan. "The hell...? It's... Ugh. It's four. What?"
"I just..." She switched off the water, watched stray drops carve rings in the clear surface. "I needed to talk to someone."
That got her friend's attention. "What is it? What happened?"
"It's nothing. I just--"
"Bullshit."
Misaki smiled a little, a frail, exhausted expression. "I can't sleep."
"Nightmares again?"
She rubs her face. "Yeah."
"Did you try tea? Or a sleep aid or something?"
At the mention of sleep aids, Misaki made a face. "I tried tea."
"God you're stubborn. You should see someone. Isn't that what your benefits package is for?"
"They wouldn't be able to help."
"Why not?"
Misaki almost told her. Almost told her about the Twins, the Astral Plane, the Guv, Manchester, Li. Her heart hammered in her throat. The words stuck on her tongue, like little shackles holding truth prisoner in her mouth.
"Misaki?"
"...I'll consider it." She swallowed hard. It still felt a bit like she was choking on something. "Night, Kanami."
"Misaki, wai--"
She clapped her cell shut, stared at it, thought about dropping it into the toilet. She set it back by the sink instead, leaned forward, and dropped her head into the blessed cold of her sink.
Character/Fandom: Misaki Kirihara / Darker than Black
Prompt: (if any) 01: nightmare
Word Count: Around 600
Summary: I am a copy cat, and Star's prompt made me wonder what Misaki has nightmares about.
Author Notes/Warnings: Violent imagery.
She doesn’t feel anything wrong with what she is doing. She knows it should feel wrong. She knows it should.
But it just feels like another day.
Her hands tighten around the little girl’s neck. She knows this wasn’t the way it happened. But it doesn't matter.
Manchester. The Canal. The word “Naughty” etched into every surface she can see. The little girl doesn't struggle, just stares up at her with blue eyes and blue lips and a confused expression.
“Stop!”
Her own voice, shouting in the dark, not from her throat but close by. She looks up and sees-herself. Herself, standing gun in hand, dripping blood onto the pavement. Four Japanese children, whole, undesecrated, obviously dead, stand side-by-side behind the Misaki holding the gun.
“Stop!” The same tone, same inflection, like a prerecorded message, just as ineffectual. She can’t stop herself from pressing harder on the English child’s throat. The gun-holder raises its weapon and grins. There is blood on its teeth, blood in its eyes, blood, blood everywhere, all of the blood never found at the crime scene.
“Stop.” And it's still grinning when it pulls the trigger.
Misaki bolted upright in bed, gasping, her grip on the covers tight enough to be painful. Her arm, still in its cast, throbbed painfully. That was what she got for refusing painkillers--but who could think with a head full of drugs?
She swung herself out of bed, trying to stop the waves of trembling that coursed through her. Every night. Every night. She couldn't sleep through them any more. She thought about the feeling of her hands on the girl's flesh, heaved and ran for the bathroom. By the time she got there she had enough control to keep herself from being sick all over. Her cell was where she'd left it after her bath--by the sink, no missed calls. She flipped it open and dialed Kanami's number while she a sink full of cold water.
"Muhlo, whosere?"
"Sorry to wake you." Misaki stared at her reflection, the dark circles of exhaustion under her eyes. God, she looked awful.
"Mmmff..." A shifting of covers on the other end. "Misaki?" A groan. "The hell...? It's... Ugh. It's four. What?"
"I just..." She switched off the water, watched stray drops carve rings in the clear surface. "I needed to talk to someone."
That got her friend's attention. "What is it? What happened?"
"It's nothing. I just--"
"Bullshit."
Misaki smiled a little, a frail, exhausted expression. "I can't sleep."
"Nightmares again?"
She rubs her face. "Yeah."
"Did you try tea? Or a sleep aid or something?"
At the mention of sleep aids, Misaki made a face. "I tried tea."
"God you're stubborn. You should see someone. Isn't that what your benefits package is for?"
"They wouldn't be able to help."
"Why not?"
Misaki almost told her. Almost told her about the Twins, the Astral Plane, the Guv, Manchester, Li. Her heart hammered in her throat. The words stuck on her tongue, like little shackles holding truth prisoner in her mouth.
"Misaki?"
"...I'll consider it." She swallowed hard. It still felt a bit like she was choking on something. "Night, Kanami."
"Misaki, wai--"
She clapped her cell shut, stared at it, thought about dropping it into the toilet. She set it back by the sink instead, leaned forward, and dropped her head into the blessed cold of her sink.