User talk:Arcan Lazaria

A Breaking Mind

Grimy, twisted and broken. He woke up swinging there, dangling from an old rope binding his wrists. He looked around the room, scarcely remembering anything about him, his life or any family and friends. The room had dirty tiled walls, and flooring. The only thing to tell this filthy cube from a box to a room was the shining wooden door, the golden knob practically screamed “Open me!”. Over by the door was a bucket, on it, in red paint, was a big red R. The man struggled at the rope with great effort. The rope was burning his skin, whilst he pulled himself up towards the hook above, he slowly grabbed the hook not wanting to cut himself, then pulled the dirty rope off it, and fell. He touched his mouth and could feel 5 stitches connecting his lips to one another.

Once he got up he saw a red letter on the wall behind, E. He crept towards the door gripping the rope still tightly bound. He turned the handle and heard a psychotic laugh from right behind him. He turned urgently back to face the door and swung it open. There was a long dark corridor with 6 doors stretching along it, 2 on the right and left walls, and two straight ahead. He started hastily limping and kicked over something, he looked down and saw a candle and a matchbox. Drawn in the dust was some writing and an arrow, he lit the candle with a match, and then read, “Walk!” and so he did... He slowly crept up to the first door and heard the same repeated words through it, “James, what are you doing, what have you done to your face...?” followed by a quick swish of air, phlegm like coughing, dripping then a thud. He opened the door and walked in, this room was like the one he woke in but with a mirror on the left wall and a t.v. facing the opposite side of the room of which he was standing on.

Blindingly noisy, the t.v. still repeating the same sounds like a broken record, he stared at himself in the mirror, for the first time he could know what he looked like... White haired, big eyes and a dangerously crazy smile, he noticed the stitching on his mouth... then looked at his clothes, they were, like red and black bandages assorted around his body, he had red shoulder pads, with two crossed strips connecting to the red belt. His wrists and ankles also had red bandage looking things on them. And everything else, his sleeves, torso and shin length pants, were a shadowy grey. Under the mirror, he eyed up a tile that had a corner missing, he put his candle closer to it and it was perfectly spotless. He pulled on it, causing a chain reaction of other tiles to fall of revealing a three word message. “Hi There, James”. “You should look at the t.v” he thought, so he limped on over to the t.v and looked over it, he quickly understood that the sounds being repeated where not just sounds but belonged to a clip, of someone, cutting the throat of a women, but through their eyes or so it seems. The clip ends with the killer dipping his hand into the women’s blood, then still staring down at his feet walking up to a wall. Lifting up his bloody hand, still not looking up, putting his hand back down then with less blood on his index and middle finger, then ever so slightly lifting his head in complete silence to reveal the bottom of the mirror, then gradually sliding up to reveal more and more then eventually showing a bloody D finger painted onto the mirror. As soon as James saw the person looking back through the reflection in the mirror, his heart stopped, and an eerie child’s song started.

Sticks and stones, May break my bones, But Words, Will tear me apart. Rock and brick, May break up conflict, But you just, Rip them apart.

With that James immediately knew who the song was directed at, him. He turned towards the door and started running. He went through the second door and it had a brick wall behind it with the letter S painted on in blood. Every other door was the same but with a different letter N, A and P, He reached the final door and flung it open, the opposing wall was a mirror and James stared at it, then he noticed a hunched figure shrouded in darkness drift down the corridor towards him and stop centimetres away.

The candles light flickered and started dancing wildly. James’ fingertips were sweating, he shook with emotions. The figure stood up straight, James could feel the warm moist breath of his captor on his neck causing his the hairs to stand up there. This man said “Why are you running... James?” then got right up next to his ear and whispered “You can’t run away from yourself!”. The flame of James’ candle grew rapidly lighting up the entire hallway... And to James’ horror his captor was also a replica of him, the captor pushed James into the mirror and he woke.

James sat up in a rundown hotel room with a women sleeping next to him with her back turned, the room was filthy and the floor was covered in clothes. James stood up and was completely naked he suddenly leapt back into the bed, and sat there for a couple of minutes. He shook the shoulder of the women next to him, but she didn’t respond, he pulled the sheet covering them away from her, and she also was naked, but still he got no response. He shook her more thoroughly this time and he heard swilling, and a little splashing. James slowly pulled her over to her back, and he discovered that she was dead, her throat had been slit and her blood slowly ran down her neck and onto the bed sheets. James threw himself from the bed with haste. He stood there staring at her corpse, and his subconscious slowly whispered... “And so it begins, Redsnap.”