Crown of Faeries

15 | Pariah

The bitter whip of the wind sliced through my skin, causing small welts to form here and there.

My vision was still coming out of the darkness from the heavy stillness of in between states. I blinked and tried to run my eyes clear, but my hands wouldn't move. I was stuck in a standing position as the fuzzy outlines of evil spirits and twining trees formed before me in a ray of shattering light.

Almost as if the world was suction cupped from one realm to the next, the white forest of the dark figure bounced into view. My breath hitched as I fell backwards and felt the spiteful sting of the razor sharp flakes that caked the floor.

My breath danced before me in patterns that were unclear at first and then shifted to spinning letters of an ancient language. The drops and swoops of the foreign tongue looked so magnificent as they portrayed a story of words before my eyes. Captivated by the symbols and odd letters, I missed the swirling snow just inches away from me.

The small circular motion that quaked the area just two feet away from me grew into a wind storm that demanded my attention as the slow was peeled away in fragments of rising and falling snow.

Crawling onto my knees, I scooted my way over cautiously. I felt no danger in approaching the whirl pool and that almost seemed peculiar to find what felt like hope in such a dark dream.

But when I was bent over the small whirling patch of snow, my hope withered away.

Inside the round, moving pit, was a golden rose. It's tint so rich and nearly iridescent that it almost seemed like tinted glass. The roots glowed a vivid yellow beneath the earth and I watched as the light pulsed as the flower drank from the Earth.

Off to my right, a butterfly entered my dream through a wall of intangible wishes. I watched as the clear wings of the lit in hues of fuchsia, violet, and baby blue, fluttered their way towards me in a slow, droning, motion that captivated its audience.

In awe, I watched as the butterfly smoothed its way down in a swooping drop, and landed on the golden flower.

The things wings glowed a multitude of colors all at once. It's pinks turning to vivid oranges and its shimmering blues turned to a darkening sunset that was dwindling at dusk and then something happened that made me shiver. The colors turned to a pitch black and in a blink of an eye, the roses petals grew into indistinguishable fingers that pinched and tortured the black butterfly.

Tears swarmed in my eyes as I fought to swap the fingers away from destroying the creature, but once again, I was glued where I was. Helpless and not helpful.

I opened my mouth to shout and in the back of my mind I heard my screams and my pleas as if they were traveling through a different dimension. Their words and tone of frustration and desperation quaked through my soul as fear and hatred rumbled like a boiling fire through my blood.

The golden fingers tugged and pulled at the butterflies wing, tearing each little fuzz of hair from its blackening wings. Almost looking like a shape of pure night, the butterfly reared up and tried to escape but then the unthinkable happened.

In an eruption of needle like fangs, the flower rippled and shifted through the veil to reveal a face of milky eyes and deteriorating skin with a gaping mouth of rotating teeth.

My scream burst from my mouth in a flash of light that whisked the awful vision away. Curling up my knees to my chest I shook where I sat and I waited for my real life to faded back. But no matter how many times I whispered to myself that none of this was real and no matter how many times I pinched myself, when I looked up from my crossed arms on top of my knees, the blurry vision of the snow and demon shaped bone trees was still there.