(no subject)
It starts with tumbling through the sky. Upward and downward through endless expanse. Feet following head, following golden strands of hair which float forward from her face. Always just fast enough that she can't move to steady herself or look about. Her motion only keeps her tumbling further and further through the sky.
We would play a game sometimes, a game called, what's beyond the sky.
We would imagine darkness, or a blinding light, or
something else that we didn't know how to name.
But of course, that was just a game. There’s nothing beyond the sky.
Then the air would thicken until it was malleable and she was tumbling anymore, she was sliding. Occasionally end over end, but not worrisome. It went endlessly onward, which to Allie was cause for worry. Her creators, her family, they had no capacity for time and the closer she was to them, the longer, the more time seemed thinner and less finite. More like play do and the slide she slipped along.
Until she came suddenly to a rolling stop on the hard ground.
"Ow," she mumbled reaching up to rub her head.
The wasn't supposed to happen.
Did you hurt yourself?
Allie's heart jumped and she swallowed painfully as she looked up. Before her stood a very tall woman with long brown hair and small dark eyes, staring at her. The look could have been called curious, perhaps even concerned to an absent observer, but Allie felt it. The predatory gaze.
We wouldn't want to you hurting yourself.
You'll come with me. We'll keep you safe as...pie.
The woman's hand reached out and grasp hers. Jerked Allie upright even as she called out at the pain on her wrist, coursing up through her arm. She struggled to keep up as her wrist hurt more and more. She could barely keep track of the change of everything around her. It wasn't the sky anymore. It had looked like a dark cloud. Then it had shaped and formed into a long dark hallway. It looked like a hospital, something old and rickety.
"Stop," She cried out, confused why her powers weren't working. She was shoved into a chair.
Don't cry, sweetie. You'll be safe here. They won't get you in here.
At the last word, Allie's blue eyes widened because, the helmet was being pulled out and put over her head. She tried to scream but found her voice was gone. And just at the last moment, as the doors to the helmet were closing, as darkness was taking her sight, even one of Mary Crawford, her body flickered. Flickered like a light switch. Completely there one moment, then not, and then back.
But in that flicker, there was another girl with dark hair and dark eyes --
another Mary
-- too young to be Miss Crawford, and then the darkness claimed her sight.
Allie called out a confused whisper; "Mary?"
It should have ended there.
Mistress Mary, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
She should have woken trembling or crying out. But it didn't end and the helmet wasn't done being closed. It was getting closer and closer. It was tightening around her neck as the pieces were pressing closer and closer on the back of her head, her cheeks, her forehead. Her wind pipe was constricting.
Not so well, she said, see the lily's dead,
Allie's hands went for her throat, clawing but the helmet wouldn't stop. Darkness beyond darkness was stealing her thoughts, her ability to breathe. Her terror was mounting, but it didn't mean she missed the whisper at her side as she felt herself passing out. The deep voice that sounded like gnashing teeth and clicking claws and amusement and death.
Pull it up and out you go.
We would play a game sometimes, a game called, what's beyond the sky.
We would imagine darkness, or a blinding light, or
something else that we didn't know how to name.
But of course, that was just a game. There’s nothing beyond the sky.
Then the air would thicken until it was malleable and she was tumbling anymore, she was sliding. Occasionally end over end, but not worrisome. It went endlessly onward, which to Allie was cause for worry. Her creators, her family, they had no capacity for time and the closer she was to them, the longer, the more time seemed thinner and less finite. More like play do and the slide she slipped along.
Until she came suddenly to a rolling stop on the hard ground.
"Ow," she mumbled reaching up to rub her head.
The wasn't supposed to happen.
Did you hurt yourself?
Allie's heart jumped and she swallowed painfully as she looked up. Before her stood a very tall woman with long brown hair and small dark eyes, staring at her. The look could have been called curious, perhaps even concerned to an absent observer, but Allie felt it. The predatory gaze.
We wouldn't want to you hurting yourself.
You'll come with me. We'll keep you safe as...pie.
The woman's hand reached out and grasp hers. Jerked Allie upright even as she called out at the pain on her wrist, coursing up through her arm. She struggled to keep up as her wrist hurt more and more. She could barely keep track of the change of everything around her. It wasn't the sky anymore. It had looked like a dark cloud. Then it had shaped and formed into a long dark hallway. It looked like a hospital, something old and rickety.
"Stop," She cried out, confused why her powers weren't working. She was shoved into a chair.
Don't cry, sweetie. You'll be safe here. They won't get you in here.
At the last word, Allie's blue eyes widened because, the helmet was being pulled out and put over her head. She tried to scream but found her voice was gone. And just at the last moment, as the doors to the helmet were closing, as darkness was taking her sight, even one of Mary Crawford, her body flickered. Flickered like a light switch. Completely there one moment, then not, and then back.
But in that flicker, there was another girl with dark hair and dark eyes --
another Mary
-- too young to be Miss Crawford, and then the darkness claimed her sight.
Allie called out a confused whisper; "Mary?"
It should have ended there.
Mistress Mary, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
She should have woken trembling or crying out. But it didn't end and the helmet wasn't done being closed. It was getting closer and closer. It was tightening around her neck as the pieces were pressing closer and closer on the back of her head, her cheeks, her forehead. Her wind pipe was constricting.
Not so well, she said, see the lily's dead,
Allie's hands went for her throat, clawing but the helmet wouldn't stop. Darkness beyond darkness was stealing her thoughts, her ability to breathe. Her terror was mounting, but it didn't mean she missed the whisper at her side as she felt herself passing out. The deep voice that sounded like gnashing teeth and clicking claws and amusement and death.
Pull it up and out you go.