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RainFforest

RainFforest

Posts: 567 Steel Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Poinephobia


A somewhat lonely and distant feeling slept somewhere in the back of his mind, telling him that the time had already come. It would be over soon.

The window was dusty and cracked. A slender yet deathly white hand left the shadow it had resided in and reached up to it to rest upon it. The body to which the hand belonged was cold in the large, dark and hollow house. The long, masculine index finger cleared a circle in the dust; it served as a temporary spy-hole to the outside world – to keep him safe.

Leaving the window, the body emerged into a pool of artificial light that centred on a wooden desk. As a face appeared in the mirror behind the desk, the room instantly became lighter. The reflection off the ice-white skin was like the sun shining down from a frozen sky – cold, yet beautiful.

Taking a seat at the desk, the person looked to the mirror. They saw their own light grey eyes, sullen and tired, stare back at them. A single strand of black hair was blown into the eyes of the almost indistinguishable male figure. A scarred hand reached up and pushed it away into the nest hair above his eyebrows. He continued to look forwards at his reflection.

A clock chimed somewhere in the house.

His body became taught at the sound. Breathing was on hold as he waited for the second, third and finally twelfth chime, as he did routinely at this hour. When the last sound had dispersed, he let out a quiet breath and let his body relax.

No one was coming for him. It seemed he had escaped punishment once more.

21-Aug-2012 18:28:53

RainFforest

RainFforest

Posts: 567 Steel Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Opening a bound leather notebook, he began to write with a blunt pencil that had been present on the desk:

“Noelle,

I have survived another day. The chimes are over – I have at least another twenty-four hours of freedom. You’re laughing at me, I know. And yes, I am aware that this is all unnecessary – this fantasy land I live in, where I believe that, one day, I will be judged and found guilty.

But it’s what I believe in. And I know it’s hard when I have to be away like this, but it’s for the best. I pro”

He stopped. He could not lie. Although he wished that his being away was temporary, he knew it wasn’t. The hollow house was becoming more than that – it was a refuge. There was no punishment there, no one to inflict such a thing. It kept the fear subdued.

Ripping the piece of paper out of the book and crushing it within his hand, he rose. The word on the page disappeared slowly in his mind. They were replaced by an image; a memory.

Noelle was angry for a reason unbeknown to him, aiming snide remarks and insulting comments at him. He was certain he had done nothing wrong – why was she doing it? The words played over and over in his mind as he searched for a reason. There wasn’t one. What had he done to deserve such treatment?

That was when it had all started. It was then, in one short burst of momentary fear, he began to know why. He needed punishment. His life, all his life, he had been exempt. Now was his time.

He cowered at the thought.

The unfinished letter fell out of his hand onto the wooden floor.

Darkness flooded his mind and began to manipulate his body. Dropping to his knees he felt an invisible fist reach through his ribcage and take hold of his heart, gripping it firmly and pumping it faster and faster with each passing second. Then the heat began.

21-Aug-2012 18:29:04 - Last edited on 21-Aug-2012 18:29:35 by RainFforest

RainFforest

RainFforest

Posts: 567 Steel Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
It was as though a fire burned inside of him, eating his spinal cord and halting his ability to react. Fire was an aversion inside his biggest fear – he dreaded burning as way of punishment more than almost anything else. Bars and beatings were bad enough, but flames brought a whole new meaning to the perception of fear.

Although he knew that he was kneeling in the centre of the room, he saw himself cornered by flames and masked men holding guns, as though it was real. His brain went into overdrive trying to decipher what was true and what was all a figment of his imagination – it crippled him. His body was contorted into all manner of shapes trying to escape – trying to regain some hold on his existence.

As suddenly as the temperature had risen it dropped, chilling him to the bone and slowing his heart to little more than what was necessary to live.

The imagined flames and guns vanished to be replaced only by the bare room, watched over by a cold and calculated controller, forcing the man into some sort of submission.

“STOP!” he cried, covering his face with his ghostly hands.

Fighting the urge to curl up and let it overwhelm him, he drove himself to stand and confront his fear in whatever way he could. He could not allow it to hold him back any longer - he knew he deserved no punishment – why could his mind not accept that?

“I shall not be punished. I need no punishment. I shall not be punished. I need no punishment,” he chanted several times, each time getting louder and louder.

When he ceased, nothing happened. He stood, frozen, as anxiety crept over the last remains of his body, slowly enveloping his mind. Now, not even his rational-self reassured him.

21-Aug-2012 18:29:09 - Last edited on 21-Aug-2012 18:30:13 by RainFforest

RainFforest

RainFforest

Posts: 567 Steel Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Panic-stricken and desperate for clean air he headed for the window, fist raised. He slammed his knuckles into the glass and it shattered, sending glass flying onto the ground ten feet below. As fresh air poured into the room he felt blood trickle between his fingers. Looking down at his hand he saw dark red blood oozing out of shallow cuts, dripping into a puddle on the floor. As he stared at the floor he saw his eye reflected in a shard of glass. He looked like death. He felt like it, too.

Reaching down to pick it up, he felt his anger subside ever-so-slightly. His mind had regained control as he breathed a deep, calming breath and lifted the glass from the floor.

Footsteps outside.

In his heightened state of awareness and anxiety, the man looked about for a place to hide. No one knew he was here – this MUST be his day of reckoning. The signs were all there – the heat, the cold, the uncontrollable anger. Judgement was on its way.

He waited until he heard the knocking at the door. Who could it be? How could it be anyone?

A voice bounced up the stairs, the words intended indistinguishable as screams and shouts filled his head.

“We’re coming for you.”

“We know where you are.”

“We’ve got you.”

21-Aug-2012 18:30:39

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