The Nightmare Chronicles

The Puppeteer

The Puppeteer

Bruised knuckles trailed on the cool metallic wall, like soothing kisses of cold gnawing at her fingertips. Her eyes, low and bloodshot, flickered to the soft entrance, shutting her eyes close at the snap of the light switch. Washing the room with a bright glow, as a darkened figure stepped from the shadows, like a bat from a cave.

Her chapped lips left out a puff of air, a soft exhale and the figure stepped closer, her reaction tense and corrupted as he closed in. A warm leather cloak wrapped his around shoulders, like wrinkled dragon's skin, it billowed as he swept around, An obsidian glove, grasping the dim candle that had lit up the room before, the aura of gold dimmed as wax sloshed against the worn jar, and a faded tag, scabbed over from her grubby nails showed only six letters.

La....v....der

Her favorite scent, though it had long been since the candle had stopped releasing the sweet smell, that filled the room with her nostalgia and tears. A life she once knew to be what she loved; the reality set so sharply to stone that it brought sobs to her rusted throat. Only ever soothed by the drink of old water she received every three days.

And yet, in her condition, when she was alone, the room was still filled with the sound of joy and laughter. Though uncommon, she still found herself doing the things she loved, a light in the dark, a candle before the gust of wind knocked out its ever-loving light.

Nothing came into the room other than him, a creature of the night that she still hadn't been able to put a name to, and yet, as she tried, nothing matched him. It only seemed fitting that she called him "the creature" in her rippled mind.

A brain she knew to be alight and forever learning was being twisted and faded to the point where it was unhealthy, a wound so deep it could not be healed. Her grime-covered fingers raised to caress her filthy face, dust clinging to her skin like fur to tape, her hair mottled and slick with oil as she crouched upon the mattress that held mites and blood-thirsty bed-bugs.

The air was course and cold to her raw nose. drying her throat with every breath, she inhaled a freezing chill that brought out pimpled goosebumps from her olive skin, as she rubbed her arms momentarily.

For what seemed hours "the creature" stood, staring, taking in the sight of her frazzled state. Her crouched figure hidden in the corner among the shade and shadows that seemed the only haven she could escape to.

The eerie, rhythmic thrumming of the machinery that occupied the room above her's; the main floor, as she knew, made itself present with the silence that followed his arrival. The heat that she managed to gain, flew away with the gust of wind that flew across the room as he had opened the large metal door leading to the unknown.

The room itself was small but spacious enough that she could stretch her legs and wander. A worn mattress set at the farthest point from the entrance, and a cheap plastic table held in the middle of the room. ItsIt's surface littered with burn scars and ash, rusted metal poles set under the rectangle that pushed into the cold stone that made up the floor. The squares of carpet tugged near the back far left corner was her doing, a small tunnel-like space she could squeeze into, though the dust scent had become so overpowering she couldn't hide in it anymore.

She often wondered the human that he was, his face always covered by the low-brim hat that sat upon his head, loose black curls billowing like streams of ashen smoke, she had never dared to speak aloud, and he had never spoken to her, and it remained that way,

The uncomfortable silence often lead her to lost thoughts and questions that bubbled at bubbling to the surface of her mind, like discovering old boxes littered with cobwebs. Sometimes these thoughts held memories, like the black cloak he always wore, was similar to her father's, though he had died years before, it didn't stop her from thinking that perhaps this person, this creature could be the embodiment of death's final strike.

Perhaps a punishment for her life being lived, though her questions were always left unanswered, and she'd lost track of the time she had spent, with nothing but her withering spirit and malnourished figure, sick veins popping from her skin, that accompanied the unnatural creaking of her bones as she moved, like rusted digits her knuckles croaked as she reached a hand to push back a clump of dark brown hair, not having the time to mourn the loss of her old reality.

This one was much worse, and as she watched him, his trance seemed to snap and he strode forward with the confidence of royalty, the only part of him visible to her that seemed human were his cobalt eyes, like strikes of electricity contained in the orbs that stilled when he saw her, and perhaps he was mortified by her conditions or curious of her identity.

A cold chill ran down her bare arms, and she spasmed at the cold, watching him with half-lidded eyes, a burning hatred rising in her shallow gut, her resolve stronger than anything she had felt in her time being here.

Though he stared down at her with his unnatural gaze, a glazed look coming to his cold eyes as he let out a soft exhale, she wanted to shriek at him, yell do anything, but her tongue felt like cold lead, an unmovable mass hidden in her thin cheeks as she let out another puff of air, forcing her lungs to breathe in the mint air, ignoring the icy crust that seemed to form in her throat.

He only came to provide food, water and remove the waste she left behind, but this was new, and the new contact left her mind reeling, she wrinkled her nose at the stench of cheap cologne, the scent of his shampoo cleansing the air she breathed as her chest heaved with the overwhelming feeling of new.

"Blair... Winters" That seemed to be the final straw, the change in her complexion left her with an aching neck as she whipped around, staring at him with the curiosity of a water monitor, her mouth falling open to gasp in more air, her eyes staring into his with an animalistic fire.

His voice was deeper than she expected, and she watched as he stared at her, an almost bored look crossing his steely gaze. A sharp accent she couldn't digest from her American one, though he clipped his t's as he drew out her name.

"You're required to join us," A breath of warm air flew into her face, pushing strands of hair back as she shivered, a loop of thoughts encumbering her mind, open to the enrichment his presence offered.

She'd open her mouth to respond, but nothing left her throat besides cold air from her lungs, the stink of her breath made her eyes water and she turned away, struggling with the tears that threatened to spill over her lashes, drops of water blurring her vision as she tried to speak, the horror of no words coming from her left her shaking.

"..Come" His response, was almost pitiful, but it didn't undermine the disgust that crept into his voice, the stench of her figure, mingled with urine didn't seem to phase him, though the glare left his eyes as he stepped from her sight, cold air rushing back to meet her as she struggled to lift her head from her collarbone, her neck trembling with the force that she commanded with the fiery of a lioness.

She struggled to ask for his assistance, her throat mottled as she released more air, struggling to form the words that seemed dry on her tongue, like rust her throat ached as she struggled, the only thing coming from her mouth seemed to be weak breaths and she fell into a coughing fit, listening to the cry of her lungs as her eyes stung.

He still watched in silence, his gloved hand clenched tightly in a fist by his side, his perfect appearance seemed challenging to her own, and she tilted her head lightly, mindful of the twinge in her muscles as she offered him tear-filled eyes, her cough drying as she clenched her throat.

The slick surface of the floor slid under her warm palm as she struggled to stand, her knees shaking with the effort, her hands gripping the smooth wall, her clenched fingers turning white. Her relief came in the form of cold hands gripping her mess of hair, dragging her up with a grunt as she let out a pained scream, breath shuddering in her throat as she shut her eyes.

The room turned in her eyes as she leveled with his standing position, glaring into his eyes with her own bloodshot ones.