Fragments, Shadows & Nightmares
Posted: 28 Jan 2014, 22:30
The chill began to set in before her eyes ever closed. It was a culmination of the endless days and nights that stretched from one into the other. She had to thank her own mind for the sedation setting in. The woman had not slept. No surprise that Dominique’s wide warm eyes wore the signs beneath her lids and the sparkle usually there was gone. It was all but chased away by the first signs of the shadows that seeped in slowly through the cracks around the broken window frame that hovered near her head.
So cold. It was bitterly cold and it was no surprise that it would be this way. Her bare arms stirred and the color of her fingers crept along the seam of the pillow case beneath her midnight slumbering head. Was it still there? It always was before. A few inches further across the soft white sheet in investigation and she found it.
The warmth of the steel blade compared to her own chilly fingertips met the fleshy pads with a stinging bite. She wouldn’t even miss it. The dark blood that would closely resemble a polluted abyss more than a sign of sustenance would not leave a mark as it beaded up and found a way to move through the pockets of empty space as she slept. Defiant it was and powerful. It lingered briefly in case she woke for the confirmation she was more like her nightmares than she was her dreams. Each obsidian droplet eventually faded and dissolved all proof the female still had her master blade close at hand when she finally succumbed to sleep.
There she was like an outcast prone silhouette across the white sheets like a summer cloud was summoned to cradle her far from the reaches of mortal mankind. Marring the scene and standing out was her curvaceous shape adorned with all her deceiving ink tainting what could be a vision of serenity and peace. Instead it was none other than Jane Doe. The one who was as always oblivious to all about her. She was the next passenger in line for the nightmare express.
Dominique.
The name was said with the softest whisper. She could feel it across the back of her bare shoulder. It crept along those dark spots that Benny danced painfully into her skin with the finest needle that New York state had to offer. He was gone but she could feel him and the heat of the overworked gun as she begged in her mind for it to continue on through the night. Like a mothers heart beat would placate a restless child the low constant hum of the machines sound soothed her to the very core. That electric fueled lullaby coupled with the warmth of his gloved hand sent the tool traveling farther leaving a map of ink and blood in its wake to say it had been there.
Dominique.
A little louder this time it arrived. So much to pay attention to and so hard to ignore. The burn of the truth began digging its way in slowly as the tart taste of thousand sins landed at the tip of her tongue.
Eat what you serve.
The low hiss of Sr. Thomasina blew across the curl of her ear. The assurance of good was climbing out the window above her and abandoning her all over again. The rosary beads beneath her right hip were unforgiving as she made the effort to move to follow whatever Holy presence was on the run. The harsh and abrasive sweep of her sandpaper tongue across her lips said nothing was right and everything had just gone seriously wrong. The pull at her ankles that finally fastened down and weighed itself over her confirmed this time she was going for the full ride.
D-o-m-i-n-i-q-u-e
“No.” Her lips shivered in the refusal that she would be fighting the very demons she could not pray long enough to avoid seeing all over again. She clawed her fingertips into the fabric and mattress beneath her. The frail chipped paint nails peeled off and dropped in defeat. Black lines appeared in their wake and deep crevices formed beneath. Desperate eyes of warm rich brown peered down to witness the bowels of Hades and found the reception of countless souls whining for her to join. “Please. God no.”
Where is your God now?
The chilling dark voice laced her inner ears and began its parasitic slide towards her brain like it had all the time in the world to do so. She writhed beneath the force that held her as her eyes were fixed with horror. The shimmering flash of silver tumbled from the back of her head then danced downward in front of her face. It froze in its third turn and there on the flawless blade of the knife was the face she had all but made sure to forget. With that discovery through the mind numbing fear that set in across every layer of her body she was suddenly released and sucked backwards across the room in a bone crushing lodging into the wall that had never been there before.
Warm red fluid seeped behind her throbbing back that was on a gradual slide down the surface of the wall. It was the vile release of the sadistic pores that no building should ever contain. It was the devils own and how she ended up there she had no idea. Her fingers tried to dig in and cling to stop the descent into the floor of flames beneath. A blur of black and white spun in a stale rotten cloud of decay and that is when she found her body spin to place her head down.
The sweet sounds of a childs prayer began beyond her eyes reach. She dug with her heels in protest as the scent of her own hair burning began to drift upward into her nostrils. The tiny voice picked up pace and recited the prayer faster. She closed her eyes and shook her head. It was a bad dream. It had to be.
“You have no place here.” A searing back hand greeted her face as the message was released. All that she thought she was to fear shook her to her senses to see the knotted and deformed shadows rise up from the flames that rolled into a black boil.
Throbbing lips contained the dark fluid of rejection that instantly pooled in her mouth. The force of the jarring impact tossed her head to the side and the contents behind her lips splattered littering the air with countless beads creating a maddening field of dots. Each one swelled then contracted until a sound of a broken soul cracked the deafening roar of the damned in a high pitched squeal when it disappeared.
Forgive me.
Her pleading words were swallowed by the sounds of horses stampeding as the wall behind her began shaking. White curling pieces of paper fell like confetti and the words of the God she had served fell to the black rising pool beneath her.
No.
The slice of the sadistic and sharp blade glided in a blazing dissection across her throat. Again her body spun like she was strapped to a wheel of condemnation. Stopping upright the black beads whirled into formation like a hurricane then disappeared. A frosty exhale fastened to the sensitive curl of her charred ear.
You can never run from what you are. It will only bring you back to what you have become.
Profound and vile. Her mind tried to reject what was sliding through it. So much pain it had brought and she could not stop it. Not when it came to her this way. She saw the reflections of the damage. Broken it all was before her and that would be all that was left. The burn of the blade went deeper. She could feel the scrape of its lethal edge against the surface of her spine. The sinewy chords that served no purpose any longer were like those of a disposed instrument in the trash can waiting for pick up that would likely arrive far later when nothing else of purpose came in the way. This was not the end. It was the beginning of all she could never have fathomed until it slammed into her like a ton of cold winter concrete.
Thy will be done.
The burn of unexpected light wrapped around her covering every inch of skin. Flesh was on fire and she knew instantly it was her own. A cry that was brought up from the last layer of what wore the priceless art on her toes rushed upward and out over the dry cracked lips of the woman’s mouth.
Eternally youthful arms moved and her legs burst into motion. A twisting then tumble of her flailing and fighting frame landed with a loud thud on the wood floor next to the bed in her apartment where she had fallen to sleep. A fast sweep of her shaking hands wiped at her face. It was still there. She patted her bare arms down and moved on hands and knees quickly to retrieve the master blade that had been in her hold the entire time until tumbling from her bed.
“Go to hell.” She hissed as she stood in the room alone. Her inked hands tugged at the sheets that still tried to wrap around her ankles. A disgusted kick had her free to step away from the mess she made. She knew she was already there as her cool body plopped back down to the mattress and looked at the clock.
So cold. It was bitterly cold and it was no surprise that it would be this way. Her bare arms stirred and the color of her fingers crept along the seam of the pillow case beneath her midnight slumbering head. Was it still there? It always was before. A few inches further across the soft white sheet in investigation and she found it.
The warmth of the steel blade compared to her own chilly fingertips met the fleshy pads with a stinging bite. She wouldn’t even miss it. The dark blood that would closely resemble a polluted abyss more than a sign of sustenance would not leave a mark as it beaded up and found a way to move through the pockets of empty space as she slept. Defiant it was and powerful. It lingered briefly in case she woke for the confirmation she was more like her nightmares than she was her dreams. Each obsidian droplet eventually faded and dissolved all proof the female still had her master blade close at hand when she finally succumbed to sleep.
There she was like an outcast prone silhouette across the white sheets like a summer cloud was summoned to cradle her far from the reaches of mortal mankind. Marring the scene and standing out was her curvaceous shape adorned with all her deceiving ink tainting what could be a vision of serenity and peace. Instead it was none other than Jane Doe. The one who was as always oblivious to all about her. She was the next passenger in line for the nightmare express.
Dominique.
The name was said with the softest whisper. She could feel it across the back of her bare shoulder. It crept along those dark spots that Benny danced painfully into her skin with the finest needle that New York state had to offer. He was gone but she could feel him and the heat of the overworked gun as she begged in her mind for it to continue on through the night. Like a mothers heart beat would placate a restless child the low constant hum of the machines sound soothed her to the very core. That electric fueled lullaby coupled with the warmth of his gloved hand sent the tool traveling farther leaving a map of ink and blood in its wake to say it had been there.
Dominique.
A little louder this time it arrived. So much to pay attention to and so hard to ignore. The burn of the truth began digging its way in slowly as the tart taste of thousand sins landed at the tip of her tongue.
Eat what you serve.
The low hiss of Sr. Thomasina blew across the curl of her ear. The assurance of good was climbing out the window above her and abandoning her all over again. The rosary beads beneath her right hip were unforgiving as she made the effort to move to follow whatever Holy presence was on the run. The harsh and abrasive sweep of her sandpaper tongue across her lips said nothing was right and everything had just gone seriously wrong. The pull at her ankles that finally fastened down and weighed itself over her confirmed this time she was going for the full ride.
D-o-m-i-n-i-q-u-e
“No.” Her lips shivered in the refusal that she would be fighting the very demons she could not pray long enough to avoid seeing all over again. She clawed her fingertips into the fabric and mattress beneath her. The frail chipped paint nails peeled off and dropped in defeat. Black lines appeared in their wake and deep crevices formed beneath. Desperate eyes of warm rich brown peered down to witness the bowels of Hades and found the reception of countless souls whining for her to join. “Please. God no.”
Where is your God now?
The chilling dark voice laced her inner ears and began its parasitic slide towards her brain like it had all the time in the world to do so. She writhed beneath the force that held her as her eyes were fixed with horror. The shimmering flash of silver tumbled from the back of her head then danced downward in front of her face. It froze in its third turn and there on the flawless blade of the knife was the face she had all but made sure to forget. With that discovery through the mind numbing fear that set in across every layer of her body she was suddenly released and sucked backwards across the room in a bone crushing lodging into the wall that had never been there before.
Warm red fluid seeped behind her throbbing back that was on a gradual slide down the surface of the wall. It was the vile release of the sadistic pores that no building should ever contain. It was the devils own and how she ended up there she had no idea. Her fingers tried to dig in and cling to stop the descent into the floor of flames beneath. A blur of black and white spun in a stale rotten cloud of decay and that is when she found her body spin to place her head down.
The sweet sounds of a childs prayer began beyond her eyes reach. She dug with her heels in protest as the scent of her own hair burning began to drift upward into her nostrils. The tiny voice picked up pace and recited the prayer faster. She closed her eyes and shook her head. It was a bad dream. It had to be.
“You have no place here.” A searing back hand greeted her face as the message was released. All that she thought she was to fear shook her to her senses to see the knotted and deformed shadows rise up from the flames that rolled into a black boil.
Throbbing lips contained the dark fluid of rejection that instantly pooled in her mouth. The force of the jarring impact tossed her head to the side and the contents behind her lips splattered littering the air with countless beads creating a maddening field of dots. Each one swelled then contracted until a sound of a broken soul cracked the deafening roar of the damned in a high pitched squeal when it disappeared.
Forgive me.
Her pleading words were swallowed by the sounds of horses stampeding as the wall behind her began shaking. White curling pieces of paper fell like confetti and the words of the God she had served fell to the black rising pool beneath her.
No.
The slice of the sadistic and sharp blade glided in a blazing dissection across her throat. Again her body spun like she was strapped to a wheel of condemnation. Stopping upright the black beads whirled into formation like a hurricane then disappeared. A frosty exhale fastened to the sensitive curl of her charred ear.
You can never run from what you are. It will only bring you back to what you have become.
Profound and vile. Her mind tried to reject what was sliding through it. So much pain it had brought and she could not stop it. Not when it came to her this way. She saw the reflections of the damage. Broken it all was before her and that would be all that was left. The burn of the blade went deeper. She could feel the scrape of its lethal edge against the surface of her spine. The sinewy chords that served no purpose any longer were like those of a disposed instrument in the trash can waiting for pick up that would likely arrive far later when nothing else of purpose came in the way. This was not the end. It was the beginning of all she could never have fathomed until it slammed into her like a ton of cold winter concrete.
Thy will be done.
The burn of unexpected light wrapped around her covering every inch of skin. Flesh was on fire and she knew instantly it was her own. A cry that was brought up from the last layer of what wore the priceless art on her toes rushed upward and out over the dry cracked lips of the woman’s mouth.
Eternally youthful arms moved and her legs burst into motion. A twisting then tumble of her flailing and fighting frame landed with a loud thud on the wood floor next to the bed in her apartment where she had fallen to sleep. A fast sweep of her shaking hands wiped at her face. It was still there. She patted her bare arms down and moved on hands and knees quickly to retrieve the master blade that had been in her hold the entire time until tumbling from her bed.
“Go to hell.” She hissed as she stood in the room alone. Her inked hands tugged at the sheets that still tried to wrap around her ankles. A disgusted kick had her free to step away from the mess she made. She knew she was already there as her cool body plopped back down to the mattress and looked at the clock.
