Psychosis

Chapter 3- Not Normal

Isabel looked at her redheaded friend, the flame still in her palm. The redhead was glaring daggers, Isabel holding her arm where she had been burned. Isabel had done nothing wrong, at least in her own eyes. But in her friend's eyes, what she had done was equivalent to betrayal. So she had burned Isabel. She would have kept going, but Isabel had screamed. That's what her friend was so mad about. Screaming was against the rules, but Isabel couldn't always help it.

"What did I ever do to ye?" Isabel cried, and the redhead laughed. It was a cruel, evil laugh, and it made Isabel shrink back in fear just a little bit, even though she had heard it many a time.

"You know what you did!" she yelled, making Isabel's ears ring.

"I did nothing! Ye know that isn't how the story plays out! I created the story, I CREATED YE! And ye know that in the story I've written, Julie doesn't die!" Isabel argued, and the redhead's eyes flashed, and her palm lit up in flame. She grabbed Isabel's arm, pain erupting from the spot as the flesh burned. This time, though, Isabel had been waiting for it, so she didn't scream. She looked straight at her friend, tears in her eyes, but still with a strength that rivaled Julie's.

"But, perhaps, with a little persuasion, you could rewrite the story. You could make an ending that fits. You have that power, Isabel. Use it," the redhead said, and Isabel shook her head. She wasn't about to do that. She wasn't about to kill Julie. Little, innocent Julie. She couldn't, she wouldn't! Julie was but a child. Where was Camille? Camille, the only one older than the redhead, except for Isabel. Camille was supposed to be here, protecting Julie! That's what Isabel had written. That's what should have happened.

"Where are ye, Camille?" Isabel whispered, making it so that the redhead couldn't hear her. Suddenly, three fire figures appeared behind Isabel, two of them grabbing Isabel, the third hanging back, watching. They were faceless, so Isabel was unable to see who they once were. The redhead walked up to Isabel, and slapped her, hard. It made Isabel's cheek sting, but she said nothing. The best course of action was to just let it happen.

"Son of a bitch! You are such a stubborn ass! Why don't you just give in? Why is Julie worth it?" the redhead asked, but Isabel remained silent. She simply lashed out, breaking free of one figure's grasp and throwing a punch at her friend, hitting her right in the nose. It broke, and Isabel's hand was covered in red, her friend's blood mixing with her own. "Fine! Have it your way!" Suddenly, what looked like a wooden cutting board appeared in the redhead's hand, and she brought it upon Isabel's head over and over, as many others had done. Isabel was used to this. It didn't usually faze her, but today, something was different. Something was off. And it was that detail that drove her to speak.

"Why must ye be this way? I did not create ye for this! Ye were not supposed to come off of the pages! Why can't ye just be normal?" Isabel shouted, and the redhead laughed, looking Isabel straight in the eye.

"Because I'm like you. You created me to be like you. Just. Like. You."

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Reid, Mindy, and Russell were in the room before Hotch and Gideon ever really realized what had happened. Reid wasn't sure what to expect, having just met Ciara, but he had a feeling that it wasn't anything good. They got into the room, Reid noticed several things wrong right away. The first was that there was no furniture, except a mirror. No bed, no dresser, no nightstand, just a body mirror near the closet door, which didn't look like it was ever used. The second was that there didn't seem to be any clothes for anyone to wear, except for a very small pile folded expertly in the corner. The third was that there were spots on the floor that looked like the floor had been set on fire. The fourth was that Ciara was standing in front of the mirror, one of her sleeves rolled up, a lit match in the other hand.