Stacy Confused

[northerain]

Stacy Confused

 

By Northerain, parts by Stacy

 

 

 

Let me die...oh god just let me die

 

 

And then she woke up. She couldn’t remember anything else from her dream. Just those last words, uttered by her. The words spelled defeat. Defeat and pain beyond all measure. She felt cold and empty. She wraped her arms around her, trying to control the shivering.It didn’t help much.

She looked around her. There wasn't much to look at. She was surrounded by darkness. She used her hands to feel the ground and her surroundings. Dirt floor. Nothing. She stood up slowly, not trusting her own limbs yet. She managed to stand up, despite the fact that her whole body seemed to be asleep.

A few moments passed. Trying to get used to the change, trying not to fall down again. Trying to make something out in the dark around her. She looked at herself. She was wearing some kind of leather garment. It didn’t conceal much of her body. And all those piercings...

 

What the hell has happened to me?

 

She couldn’t imagine herself agreeing to wear something like this...thing she was wearing. And she wouldn't have done all these piercings to herself. She was certain of it. She had rings in every place possible. She felt her body in an attempt to visualize herself. Her face...soft to the touch...somewhat cold. She had two piercings on her left eyebrow, one on her nose; she couldn’t even count those on her ears. She let her hands wander downwards. She couldn’t tell much...at least it felt familiar. Her navel was pierced also. She could only imagine how much pain she had suffered to get all these piercings. She shuddered. She opened her legs and ran her fingers down her thighs. She had some kind of marks there. Horizontal lines. But she couldn't figure out what they were.

Oh my god

The leather garment she wore was full of small rings and belts. Some kind of S&M clothing maybe? She thanked god that she didn’t have a mirror. She didn’t want to look at herself when she was like this, but she knew she couldn’t resist not looking if she had the chance.

What the fuck am I doing here?

Only now did she realize that she remembered nothing. Not how she got here, not what this place was, not even who she was. Not even her name. More important, she didn’t know who else was here in the dark with her. Fear started creeping in her mind. Suddenly, the darkness surrounding her seemed more dangerous than before. Our lady of darkness can hide many things. Most of them unpleasant.

 

There was nothing she could do. She sat down again, trying to fight her fear away. The archetypical fear of darkness, always there to greet you once you turn off the lights. But there was nothing else she could do. Nowhere to go.

And her mind didn’t seem to work right. It wasn't so much that she didn’t remember anything about herself. The information was there, only in some strange, alien language. Everytime she tried to wander into her own mind, she ended up in a room full of shadows. She had to find a way to fight it. But untill she could do that, she had to try and find an exit in this darkness.

She stood up once again, rings jiggling, reminding her of her attire once again. She picked a direction at random, and started walking, in hope of finding something. Anything.

She walked for while. Her eyes had started to adjust somewhat, but it was still difficult to navigate in the darkness. She had found a wall, and used it to support herself and as a guide. She hoped it led to a door. She smiled warily at the thought and stopped walking. Her hand slinked down from the wall. Slowly, she looked around and was blinded by a weak light in the distance. She thought her mind was playing tricks on her. She blinked a few times, looked around her. The light didn’t move with her movement.

Tears ran down her cheeks. With her inner sight she saw a moment from her past.

The light fell on her and someone standing by her side. She couldn’t remember who it was. Feelings of safety and love from the memory, gone for so long, washed over her. The memory seemed so distant, so strong. Distressed by her crying she leaned her body against the wall and sank to the cold floor. She buried her face in her hands and tasted her salty tears.

She felt alone. Alone and abandoned. The darkness didn’t matter any more. Her loneliness and sorrow did. She stayed like that for a while, reveling in her sadness. When she was through with crying, she got up, and slowly walked towards the light.

 

 

There was a desk there and a chair. The light fell on her like rain, and she thanked god from the bottom of her soul. She took the opportunity to examine herself in the bright light.

The garment was almost certainly some kind of S&M clothing. It did little to conceal her body.

The black marks on her body were tattoos. They covered most of it, circling around her breasts and her navel, running down her hands, even on her fingers. She liked it. She opened her legs a little so she could look at the inside of her thighs. There were marks there. She ran her hand over them. Someone had used a knife to make them. They were pretty deep and they looked hideous. Despite what she thought at first, they weren't crude, but had some kind of sick artistic symmetry. Was it possible that she could have let someone do this to her? She felt sick to her stomach.

 

She looked around herself at the area illuminated by the light. There were some papers on the desk. A few pencils and a frame with a picture on it. She picked it up. It was a picture of her. It was strange how she recognized herself at once, even though her memories seemed to be gone. She didn’t know how she looked now, but in the picture she looked young. And happy. There was a little boy sitting beside her. It was her brother. The block in her mind seemed to disappear when she looked at the picture. But she could remember nothing else. She opened the back of the frame and pulled the picture out. There was nothing written on it.

 

She turned her attention to the papers scattered on the desk. Most of them were blank. Some featured the creative attempts of a mentally unstable person, judging by the handwriting.

A poem was written on one of them.

She liked poetry. She picked it up, and moved closer to the light. It was a song. Rather mediocre actually. The important thing was the dedication note. It read:

 

For Stacy

Falling Rain

 

each new day

each new dawn

I try to find

another reason to go on

 

today I used

my last excuse

the candle flickers

let me go

 

even the falling rain

can't ease my suffering

my pain

 

for those of you

I left behind

here's another reason

for you to find

 

I hope you'll never

reach the point I did

I couldn’t stand the pain

I so well hid

 

even the falling rain

can't ease my suffering

my pain

 

 

 

Stacy. That was her name. She was sure about it. The block in her mind seemed to open up bit by bit. She still couldn’t remember who he was. The one who wrote the song for her. She tore the paper up and let it slip from her hands. She went to the chair and sat. She had to think. The wall in her mind had started to crack, but she had to tear it down in order to get herself out of here. She fought for every piece of memory. Shards of memories flashed before her eyes, but she couldn’t hold on to them.

Fuck this.

She closed her eyes and tried to rest for a while. She wasn’t very successful. Her mind wouldn’t let her rest, not until she remembered everything or exhausted herself. Whichever came first.

She stood up again, and tried to use the lamp overhead to shed some light around. Something reflected the light a few meters away. She let go of the lamp, which danced crazily about, and walked towards the spot where she saw the light reflected. It was one of those old mirrors. It had some kind of decorated frame, but the looking glass had gotten old. It was chipped around the edges. She pulled it towards the light, so she could inspect herself. By now she had gotten curious about the way she looked. It wasn’t very heavy; it took her only a minute to position it under the light. She took a few steps back.

Despite her earlier impression of herself, she liked what she saw. The tattoos and the piercing, coupled with the clothes were very well matched. She didn’t want to like it, but she couldn’t lie to herself. She looked magnificent. The scars on her thighs didn’t spoil the picture. In fact, they contributed somewhat. She looked more closely at her face. A little pale, but still beautiful.

She turned around, wanting to have a look at her back.

She let out a small cry, as she saw the marks on her back. They were made by a whip. She knew the marks left by lashings were like this. The marks ran from high up her back and down to her bottom. She turned away from the mirror.

How could I find myself beautiful? Who am I kidding?

Who could have done this to me? Why?

She screamed at the mirror, and then stood looking at it, shocked by her own reflection. She collapsed on the floor. Slipped into an uneasy sleep, her exhaustion and pain keeping her from dreaming.

 

 

She woke up completely disoriented. For a little while she couldn’t remember anything. She didn’t recognize her surroundings. But then everything started to come back. Or at least the parts she could remember. She rubbed her eyes, and stood up. She knew she couldn’t stay near the light. It provided comfort, that much was true, but the sense of security she felt was false, and the thirst gnawing at her throat was very real. She had to continue walking, even if she didn’t have a destination. She didn’t have a choice.

It was time to go on...

 

She picked the direction opposite the one she had arrived from, hoping that she had been following a straight course. Eventually she would run into something. Like she already did. Not that it was very helpful, but now she had something. A name. Stacy.

She tried to keep a steady pace, and a straight course. It wasn’t very easy. In the matter of navigation, the surrounding darkness left everything to the imagination. The wall to her right was not much help either. It certainly didn’t offer much protection. She knew there were things in the dark. She just prayed that she could avoid them for a little while longer. She did the only thing she could: Walk. Trying to keep her mind off her fears, off her situation and the slimy darkness around her. The light from the lonely lamp behind her was already too weak for her to discern the wall on her right side. Carefully she reached out her hand. Her finger tips touched the cold wall. The cold almost made her jump. With great effort she managed to control herself. She shivered violently. She turned around and looked longingly at the light, but her thirst got the best of her and made her continue into the darkness.

 

She didn’t know for how long she had been walking. The darkness was so thick that the only thing that reassured her that she was actually moving was the wall’s uneven surface under her fingers. Panic, that earlier made her open her eyes widely in attempts to discern anything in the darkness, had abated. Even her fear of whatever lurked in the darkness gradually toned down and was replaced by indifference to what would happen to her. Left in the darkness were the emptiness and her name. The thoughts that never left her alone toned down, they too, and her soul got a chance to breathe.

 

 

Suddenly she became aware that she was no longer alone. There was someone else in the darkness with her. She stopped on her tracks.

‘’Hi Stacy. It’s been a while…Where have you been?’’ The voice came from two or three different places at once. It was a whisper, yet terribly clear in her mind.

‘’Sleeping? Or is it a coma? And now you wander around down here…Never stopping to think about anything. Why you’re here. Who you are. What you’ve done. Don’t you ever think?

Run Stacy. Run to the light. See if it will protect you .I’m the least of your worries.

The panic she had fought down for a while reached up and grabbed her by the throat. And then, she ran back to where she hoped the light was.

 

 

She had managed to reach the safety of the light. She ran blindly for the safety of its wings, fell down and scurried under the desk. She looked into the darkness. She was breathing with short panicky breaths. Whatever it was, it didn’t dare to follow her into the light. She was momentarily safe.

She noticed there was blood around her. She had cut her feet while running. Broken glass. The underside of her feet was full of broken glass pieces. She tried to remove the ones she could see, cringing in pain each time. Her hair was sticking to her face. Sweat ran down her face, blinding her. She had blood all over her.

She tried to stand up. The pain was excruciating. She couldn’t remove the smaller pieces. Not with her hands at, least. She looked around her. The place was the same, although the mirror was broken and the pieces were scattered around the casing in a circle. The circle she ran through in her panic. Someone was here while she was gone, and apparently that someone was pretty pissed at something. All the furniture and papers had been kicked, punched, torn or otherwise maimed. Stacy wrapped her arms around her and tried to relax. Maybe sleep.

 

 

 

She left the comforting circle of light and once gain plunged into the surrounding darkness. She had no idea where she was supposed to go, so she picked a direction at random. And then, she walked. She had passed the barrier of pain by now; the glass in her feet didn’t even bother her anymore. But she was tired. And then, she could walk no more. Then, she collapsed, and just lay there, without moving, barely breathing; almost like a corpse.

She thought about the past, trying to grasp pieces of her shattered memories. It felt like a mental storm was raging in her mind, blowing away everything that wasn’t nailed down, soaking the rest. They were there, but always on the move, nothing but a fleeting glimpse. In the end, she gave up. She surrendered into a dreamless slumber.

Until someone woke her. He crouched over her, whispering close into her ear. Shaking her; gently at first, then more violently. He looked worried.

‘’Stacy?’’

She heard his voice calling her; like coming from the bottom of a canyon. Echoing in her mind:

‘’Stacy Hon? Wake up.’’

He tried to pull her up. Her body was limp. She could still hear him, but all strength seemed to be drained out of her. He took out a bottle from his jacket. Fed it to her. Then, as she started coming to, he laid her down gently, and turned to leave.

‘’Wait’’ She croaked at his back, and tried to stand up. She couldn’t be alone again. Not in this hell. He turned to her, smiled a crooked smile, and disappeared somewhere into the shadows. She recognized him. She knew him. How could he leave her all alone here? How could he do that to her? She searched her mind for his face. To try and understand why he left her. Amongst the ruble, which was now her mind, she uncovered a memory.

 

 

A sunny day. He hated sunny days. And sun in general. But some days, like this one, he was glad to have it.

‘’Tell me’’ She said, closing her eyes against the glare of the sun.

‘’No’’ Smiling. An all too familiar scene.

‘’Tell me’’ Insisting

‘’Look, I said no once. Don’t make me repeat myself. I sound dumb when I repeat myself.

‘’No you don’t. Just tell me. When was it that the great ‘Nightrain’ decided that life was worth living? Was there a girl maybe? Huh?

‘’Don’t even go there’’ He laughed. ’’No. There was no girl. At least, not then. It was just a decision I made. Not that life was worth living; only that…for now, I wouldn’t give up. And even if there was no hope for me, I’d stick around to make sure none other walks down the same path as me. Simple. And don’t call me ‘Nightrain’, it sounds like a superhero comic book.’’

‘’Hmm…Ok. Then, when exactly was it that you made that decision? Which precise moment?

He stared at her bleakly.

‘’The moment I took the gun out of my mouth.

 

Who was he? How did she know him? And how could he leave her all alone again? What was his part in this sick game? She was planning to find out. She got up, and followed him into the darkness.

She didn’t have to walk for long. The ground beneath her bleeding feet gave way to a wooden floor, and then to marble.

There was a small flight of stairs that looked like it had been ripped from a museum. She climbed each step carefully. The pain in her feet had returned, and it felt like walking on burning coals. She cringed with each step, but kept going. This had to end. She reached the top and looked around her. There was nothing there. Only a wooden chair that looked more like a throne. And there he was again.

Hello Stacy.’’ He simply said and stood up. I’ve been waiting for you for a long time now…I missed you.

‘’You…you know me?

‘’Don’t be silly, little girl. Of course I know you. Right now, I know you better than you know yourself.’’

‘’I can’t remember. Who are you?’’

‘’Me? I’m your dark prince, honey…And it was about time I got back what’s mine.’’

He approached her, listened to her heavy breathing. Felt her fear.

‘’Put these on.’’

He put the shackles in her hands.

‘’What makes you think I’m gonna wear these, you sick fuck? I’m tired of your games and your fucking toys’’ she spat in his face.

‘’You will wear them! You know you have no choice. I’m the only one down here who can protect you. You will do as I say…till I say otherwise. Now put these on.’’

She did as asked, and carefully put the shackles around her wrists. She didn’t know why she listened to him. She didn’t like to obey anyone. And surely not this man. But she didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t go back into the dark. She let her head hang; trying to give him the impression she was giving up completely.

‘’And now…lets have some fun’’’

The words chilled her. She looked up, against her will, to see him brandishing a sword. A sword that he just drew from the red hot coals that were residing in an oven built into the wall. She begun walking backwards.

‘’Stacy…Stop.’’

She stopped. She couldn’t stop herself from trembling, but she did manage to tell herself that she wasn’t really scared. She stood straight, looking at the man with the sword. He walked towards her, coming so close that her chest touched him, and his breath mingled with hers. And he said:

‘’You know I have to do this love.’’

And she fainted as the sword touched her right thigh near the knee.

 

 

 

The man was now carrying her in the darkness like a groom carries his bride to their new home. The image was lacking in happiness though. His expression was grim and he was whispering, maybe talking to himself, or maybe to the girl.

I’ve carried you so many times, I can actually find the spot in absolute darkness.’’ He let out a little laugh. ‘’I know I promised -hell, I swore- that I would do this no matter what…But I cannot continue anymore. I don’t give a fuck about what you’ll do to me when you wake up and remember, this time was the last time.

I’ve played the role of the boogeyman for so long, that part of me has become him. But another part of me is dead tired of this crap. The things I did…maybe once I found them interesting and sometime later even pleasing to do, but it has become more and more unpleasant to go on with this little play. ‘’

He stopped and looked around him in the pitch black darkness, as if he could see something that no other could.

‘’Yeah’’ he said, ‘’this is the place. This is the place I have to bring you every time I’m through torturing you, every time this little play repeats itself. Until ‘’flesh remembers its crimes’’. Your words. I never could understand you my love, and I guess I never will, but I won’t continue torturing both me and you for a crime long lost, and long forgotten. You cursed me to be your punisher, judge and executioner. You wanted to be the victim, a slave, and you wanted a cruel master. And you shaped me into that. You made me curse our kind, our brethren for giving you the means to drag this charade on and on for ever. No more.’’

He placed her down onto the cold earth, kissed her lips and then got up.

‘’I’ll be waiting for you there. But this time, you’ll remember everything. I hope you won’t be mad at me. I only tried to please you. But there are only so many atrocities a man can commit against the woman he loves. ‘’

[Nihilio]

ΑΡΡΩΣΤΙΑ...

 

Αρκετά καλή ιστορία, με ωραία παρουσίαση των συναισθημάτων της ηρωίδας και όχι μόνο και μια πολύ άρρωστη κατάληξη.

[northerain]

Ευχαριστο Μηδενιστη, και ολους τους αλλους που μου τα ειπαν απο irc κτ κτλ.

[Nihilio]

Απορώ πως και τα υπόλοιπα διψασμένα για αίμα κυνηγόσκυλα του φόρουμ δεν έχουν σχολιάσει αυτό εδώ. Είναι μια από τις ιστορίες που μου είχαν μείνει χαραγμένες στη μνήμη από τα πρώτα χρόνια του φόρουμ για το μυστήριο που δημιουργεί και την άρρωστη ατμόσφαιρά του. Για τους λόγους αυτούς πιστεύω ότι ο προβολέας οφείλει να πέσει επάνω του για αυτήν την εβδομάδα.

[Cassandra Gotha]

Φιού! Τέλειωσε...

 

Φοβερά καλογραμμένο, ένα καθαρά επαγγελματικό κομμάτι, το μίσησα, το σιχάθηκε η ψυχή μου, μπράβο.

Σκοτεινάραχνο.

[Eric Draven]

Τρελό! ατμοσφαιρικό ως το τέλος, μου θύμισε torture thriller. Μου άρεσε και η 'ανατροπή' στο τέλος αν και δεν κατάλαβα καλά -SPOILER- πως γίνεται και δε θυμόταν τα βασανιστήρια που τις έκανε- SPOILER-. Eπίσης πως και επέλεξες να το γράψεις στα Αγγλικά?

cheers