Twisted Fables [IC]

[Constantinou]

Brigitte watched as the figure that she was addressing vanished into thin air. She gasped, her heart racing. How had that happened? Who had done that? She squinted, noticing another, smaller figure appear from behind the vanished magic. This one had to be evil to have made the magic vanish. Brigitte's heart dropped, and she was poised to run. It approached her, and she didn't know what to do. Something that evil would surely have caught her if she'd tried to run. She, after all, was only a child, though she refused to admit it. Thirteen was no longer a child; she was growing into adulthood. She was a mini-adult, if anyone asked. Regardless, she knew full well that there was no way that she could have outrun something that could do something like what Brigitte had just witnessed. So, she tried to be brave. She sucked in her deepest breath, watching the figure take steps closer and closer.

She soon noted that it was hesitant, and wondered if she were wrong about it. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind, though. It was a tactic, and a good one at that. By looking just as frightened as she, it would be able to get Brigitte to let her guard down. She was a step ahead of it, and she would do no such thing. Then, it occurred to her that it was not trying to look frightened; it was trying to judge her. It was trying to see what sort of person Brigitte was so that it could know how to defeat her. Not that it would have been difficult for this thing. Brigitte gasped suddenly, a thought rising in her head. If it had made that magic disappear without a single effort, who was she to think that she had a fighting chance? This was it. She was going to die. You're already dead, rang a voice in the back of her head. Chills ran down her body again, and she was taken by the chilling cold. She shook the feeling, though, trying to be brave. That was all foolishness. It was, perhaps, this demon that was approaching her. It was trying to get inside her head and weaken her. Well, she wasn't about to let that happen. She was strong. She may not have stood a fighting chance against this thing approaching her, but she was going to fight anyway.

"Hello," it said when it was still a ways from her. It took the voice of a girl. Brigitte flinched. "Yes, I'm here." Brigitte felt even more frightened than before. This demon was clever, taking on the appearance of something innocent. So it wasn't approaching slowly in order to read her. It really was trying to put on a show for her. It wanted her to think it was something that it certainly was not. She would not be convinced, but it made her wonder. What did it really want? Was it going to kill her? Why would it try to gain her trust if it were just going to kill her? That mission could have been long complete by now. No, it was trying to manipulate her. It wanted to use her for something. Well, she may have been weak in body, but certainly not in mind. She would outwit this thing, whatever it was. She would let it believe that she had given it her trust. She would go with it until it had let its guard down. Then, she would destroy it, just like it had just destroyed a magical figure before her eyes.

"Are you a...doctor or nurse?" it asked. What a great act. Brigitte didn't respond. It was now close enough for her to see. A red cloak covered its shoulders; the color of sin. It opened its mouth again, asking, "Are you in the same position as me?" Brigitte looked the girl up and down. So she was supposed to be a patient as well. Grand; Brigitte would roll with that. She put on her best face, trying to look confused and frightened.

"Ye-yes. I guess so. What was that...thing?" She nodded toward where the figure had once been, noticing for the first time that the lantern was no longer throwing light in that direction. It was shining on the demon now. No! The lantern had led her here. That's probably why it had floated. It was dark magic; nothing good about it at all. It was a beacon, leading her right into the demon's trap. She tried not to react too drastically to this new revelation, but instead inched slowly away from both the figure and the lantern.

[Lord Azazel]

Saren opened his eyes and waiting for the screams of the other patients. He waited to hear the rolling of the carts of the staff coming to check up on him and give him his meds. But he heard none of that as he sat up on his bed and looked around. Although he heard no screams and no carts rolling down the stone floors the air around him did not feel any different. In fact it felt heavy and darker than normal as he slowly got to his feet and put on the clothing he was allowed to wear. He stretched his arms and legs and then went to a mirror and looked at it. He remembers nothing of his past of who he was. Nothing and the doctors and nurses did not tell him anything either. Only that he would get better in time and that everything will be alright. But he has been here for years it seems and he felt the same. He felt lost and alone and like life had been sucked right out of him by a unknown force. The face in the mirror was his but yet he had no memories of who he was.. So was he just a man with a face?. Or was he a monster and that his makers made him wear this face for some evil reason he did not remember

Saren walked towards his door and placed a hand on the doorknob expecting it to be locked he was shocked to find that he could open it. Once the door was open he took a step back as he felt the cold air rush into his room and for a brief second he wanted to close the door once again to block out the cold. But he stopped himself and walked closer to the edge of the door. Still afraid that someone will come by and yell at him for being out of his room. But when that did not happen he made his move and stepped out of his room and took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was then he turned and looked at the ground and found some interesting items. On the floor their was a copra headed staff that appeared to be a cane of some sort although he did not remember ever having to use one. And then their were the dark clothing as if someone was making a cruel joke about him looking like he was death itself because he rarely ate anything. But regardless they where items and as he put on the dark clothing he could not help but feel as if he could relate to the items somehow.. As if they were a part of him or maybe what he was before he found himself in a Asylum because people thought he was insane. Which made sense maybe he was insane after all. But he could not shake the feeling he had when he touch the clothing and held the staff almost like a sense that found himself. He closed his door and was about to walk towards what he knew was a window when he heard a loud scream. Followed by words he did not understand as they were mumbled.

He ignored the words as just being from another patient and slowly walked towards the window with his cane. But as he was walking it got caught in a tiny hole in the ground and he fell flat on his face. He groaned in pain as he attempted to get up from his fall. What in the world.. if that was not a cane then what was it ?. And why did it have a cobra for a handle… He hated snakes and every time he saw one he would freak out. So why did someone leave him a cane with a cobra snake on it. He sighed once again as he got to his feet and attempted to free the cane or whatever it was from the tiny hole it got caught in. He sneared in anger walked towards the window and looked out across the… what was this place he was looking at. It appeared to be a small town but he could not sure as he took a seat that was closed by and closed his eyes.. Trying his best to figure out why someone would give him dark clothing and a cane that was in shape of the very animal he hated. Although a part of him told him otherwise. He closed his eyes and waited to see if anyone else would come or was he the only one in the building?. if that was the case was everyone dead or maybe he was just dreaming and he would wake up to a knock on the door from a nurse that hated him for some reason. Whatever happened he just wanted it to happen already so he could get answers.

[Lillian Thorne]

She watched the motions of the gentleman she addressed put his hat back on his head in a gesture that spoke of long practice. As if the donning of the hat were part of some routine he’d done a million times over and didn’t have to think about it yet still it was a motion of grace and a pleasure to watch. The glow of the strange lantern at their feet made the whole thing odd and skewed, almost like a shadow puppet show, the figures exaggerated as they acted out some tale. His words were courteous and his manners set her a little at ease which was in and of itself something of a miracle. She felt her muscles tight and coiled, ready to spring at the first sign of danger. For all that she was anonymous under the skin, it didn’t serve as armor. She was still in danger from physical threats and so she remained wary despite the fact that she wanted to be disarmed.

She couldn't help the smile that crossed her face when he implied that he might have been sent there to meet her. Her soft cheeks rounding out as her smile grew, her dimple born in the amusement she felt. It was a charming thought but must be wrong. She wasn’t something worth meeting, she was hidden and forgettable. But before she could reply to his suggestion someone else spoke from the darkness. It seemed to come from off to the side somewhat she thought, her eyes trying vainly to pick out the figure. Her companion addressed the girl, for girl was what her voice proclaimed her to be.

She claimed to have seen the lantern everywhere which unsettled Clara greatly. Did that mean there was more than one lantern and thus more unnatural things carrying them? She shivered under her mantle and darted her eyes about hoping to see any threat before it was too close. She could all but feel the phantom pressing down on her, seeking her out there in the shadowed corridor. She stepped closer to the man with the hat, hoping he would be moved to help her if something revealed itself to be a threat.

She winced when he spoke of crazies. She wasn’t crazy was she? She didn’t feel crazy, maybe a little confused and scared but certainly not crazy. But it did make her aware that the man she was next to was crazy, he fully admitted to it and the unseen girl speaking to them from the darkness was one as well. It made Clara question her own status on that score. But the status of anyone’s sanity wasn’t really going to help them out of this predicament. She felt that it was time to be as practical as the situation would allow.

“Well, I say the lantern is here. We are all here and I do not see how standing about discussing its origins or purpose aids us any. The cells are open. Is it so farfetched to hope that the exits are open too? Does anyone know how to reach them? Let us take up this lantern and head for the exits and be done with this place.”

The thought of leaving these dim and dreadful corridors and cells behind her made her nearly giddy with relief.

[Gedanken]

Scarlett did not know whether to feel relieved, or frightened that there was another beside herself. What if they were in league with that pursuing beast? Or that spectre? However, as she grew closer, she was rewarded with a response to her final question. At once, she relaxed. Those other things hadn't spoken in the entire time that they had been near, so this girl couldn't be in with them. She noticed how the other inched away a little and put it down to fear of the aforementioned shadow. "I-I'm not sure," Scarlett replied. "I bumped into it a few moments ago and it... stared at me." She shuddered and instantaneously wrapped her arms about herself. This was getting more and more frightening as it went on. Soon, she may find herself trapped in the dark woods of her nightmares, with no escape.

She tried to shrug off such things and lowered her arms to clutch at the fabric of her new cloak. It took her a few more seconds to realize, through her anxiety, the lantern again. So used to it's light was she now, that she didn't think to question it in the time that the two had been talking. "Is that yours?" she asked, dipping her head in the direction of the glowing object. "It's... very bright." In all of the time that she'd been a victim of the asylum, her words seemed childish and odd. She doubted she had ever had such conversation with anyone other than the staff before. It was a new experience, and one she was still wary of. From what she could recall, physical speech was unpredictable and vast. It could move from one subject to another quickly. It left Scarlett feeling a little lost, eventually.

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Morgan grinned at the young lady's statement. It was true enough. Words wouldn't aid them any in their bid for escape - and he doubted that any of the trio that had gathered wished to remain in these halls. To be free of the asylum would be a treasure, for sure. Although, there was a small whisper at the back of his mind that told him it wouldn't be all that easy. Things were never as simple as they first appeared. "You are right, my dear. Wasting time will get us nowhere." He paused a moment, absentmindedly tapping at the side of his top-hat as he thought. "I can't recall any of the exits, but, they must be somewhere around. I doubt that they have disappeared in the midst of this darkness." He indicated the gloom with raised hands.

"As for the lantern; I must admit I'm not particularly fond of taking it up, but, if no-one else wishes to; I will." He nodded then, to the object. There was a wariness that rushed over him at the image of him taking hold of the lantern's handle. It was as if, by seeing it in flight, he had become somewhat fearful of it. Although, that wouldn't truly make sense.

From the depths of the hallway, a call rang out. Deep and treacherous by nature. It resounded down the corridor, fading away as it blew past the trio. Whatever the sound belonged to, it seemed darker than the darkness itself.

[Constantinou]

Brigitte scowled, looking down at the lantern. She had been certain that it belonged to this demon-girl. Her confusion lifted instantaneously, though, when she remebered that the demon was toying with her mind. It was nothing more than that. She looked around, trying to find a way to get the upper hand. She needed to get out of there, but she didn't want this thing to think that she had wised up. So, she decided to lead it outside. It would help her escape, certainly, and she would lead it unknowingly into the light of day. That is, if she played her cards right. She hoped desperately that she could. She didn't want to lose her life because of her own ignorance or stupidity.

Carefully, unsure of what would happen, Brigitte bent down to pick up the lantern. The demon probably wanted this. It wouldn't have asked her about the lanter's owner otherwise. It was probably jinxed. No, it was certainly jinxed. What, though, would it do to her when she touched it? She glanced at the demon. The way that Brigitte saw it, she had two choices; she could either touch the lantern and let its magic kill her, or let the demon take it and lead her to her death. If she were going to die either way, Brigitte figured it was better not to put it off. You're already dead, that voice insisted in her head. She shook it out again, suddenly frightened by it. She felt where she had tucked the matches into her underwear. They were still there. Trying to be brave, Brigitte touched the lantern. Nothing happened. She picked it up, rising back into a standing position.

Suddenly, the lantern grew brighter, lighting the entire area around them just as a traditional lantern would. It was much brighter than a traditional lantern, though. The magic was strange, but it wasn't dark. She was lucky. Plus, she now had the upper hand. "I just found it," she explained to the demon, acting as if she didn't know that the girl already knew this. "I guess it was put her to...help me. Or something." She scowled, looking around the empty hall. "Anyway, we should find a way out of thi--"

A call sounded from the other side of the building. Loud and frightening, it made Brigitte freeze in her place. She was unable to think for a few moments. Whatever it was, it was far from them, but it was still terrifying to her. What if whatever it was was heading their way? Brigitte swallowed, looking at the demon-girl. Had she beckoned it? Was this the thing that the demon was waiting for? Was it here to kill Brigitte? She tried again to be brave, but her voice gave her away. "Wh--what was that?" she whispered meekly.

[Lord Azazel]

Saren got out of the chair that looked over the courtyard and walked back to where the cane and stopped when he saw the cane was on the ground as if something put it there for him. But that was impossible.. Nobody was in the area with him and even if there was someone he would of seen that person because he did not fall asleep on the chair. Even if he did not see the person he would of heard them. He shook his head and picked up his cane and began to walk back to his room. Once he got back to his room he found that his door was locked from the inside and he could not get back into the room. He punched the door in anger and then stopped. Why did he just punched in anger.. He has never been angry before the whole time he was at the asylum and now he was? Now he was really becoming freaked out as he walked towards the other room all seemly locked from inside. The darkness becoming darker if that was even possible as he walked the long hallway.

He stopped at the room that was supposed to be the head nurses office or so he was told. But as he put his hand on the doorknob he heard a voice behind him. This time he could make out the words “ You are a traitor “. He turned around to see who called him a traitor but found nobody behind him. But now the door to the nurses office was locked like the other rooms and he again with a burst of anger punched it before stepping back and walking down the hall once again. The other question on his mind was what happened to everyone. Did they die and he was the only person in the Asylum alive or was he dreaming still and nobody has come to wake him up yet. Whatever the reason he wanted to get answers and fast. Why were all the doors locked as if someone was inside of them? Why did his staff go from standing up to laying on the ground as if someone put it there?. As if someone was answering him.. He heard what sounded like someone calling out. But he could not make out any words and the voice was dark as if the darkness itself was talking. He stopped in his tracks and called out “Who goes there and what do you want with me ! “ He asked the voice or whatever it was that called out. As he did that he felt the cold dark become even colder as if someone was watching him from the darkness itself. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly hoping that he would get a answer or a response from whoever called out.

[Lillian Thorne]

Clara sensed in his words that the hat-wearing man did not want to take up the lantern. She didn’t blame him. The light it cast was strange and left her skin with an almost oily feel. But she was a good girl, she wanted to help, she always wanted to help. So she stepped forward and bent down in the secure anonymity of her cloak and without pause lifted the lantern up just a the deep rumbling bellow filled the darkness around them.

Her skin both pricked in fear from the sound that rumbled towards them and felt oily from the touch of that seemingly unnatural; light. She ground her teeth together and did not let the lantern drop. It was just a lantern after all. A simple thing. Any bit of strangeness to it was surely the result of her madness. She was in an asylum after all, she had some sort of malady to have been put in there in the first place, surely. So it made sense that all the unpleasantness, all the terrors were but byproducts of her illness. It didn’t make them any less real in her perceptions of them, but it made it easier for her to write them off. Ignoring the roar as if it hadn’t occurred she looked to the hat man and with a pleasant, helpful smile she spoke in a practical tone.

“I’ll carry it. We cannot afford not to have the light. Now, I might be able to get us to the kitchens. They would let me help there sometimes. It makes sense that there would be a way out through the kitchens. They would need to get food in and out. I don’t recall ever seeing an exit anywhere though. Does anyone have a better idea?”

She held the lantern at waste height so that the light would not reach her trouble-causing face in its shelter of the hood of her mantle. Her anonymity needed to be preserved lest the phantom find her.

[Gedanken]

She watched as the girl bent down to pick up the lantern, then switched her gaze to that of her crimson-hooded cloak. Automatically, Scarlett had been twirling its edges; a habit she had grown into with her old clothes in the time that she had been locked up. Everything was making her more paranoid, it seemed. Or anxious. She couldn't really decide which. Scarlett jumped a little as the light from the lantern abruptly brightened, illuminating an expanded amount of the world around them. She smiled a little at her own skittish behavior - had she always been like this? Nodding as the stranger spoke of how she'd simply found it, she had just started to relax when the sound of something terrifying echoed down the hallway; cutting the other girl off mid-sentence.

Scarlett flinched, her eyes growing wide. Fear washed over her in a huge wave, threatening to drag away all of her sensible thoughts and send her collapsing to her knees, but somehow she managed to reel it back; shoving away the feeling. "I- I'm not sure," she whispered back, her tone hinting at her dread. "But, maybe we should move." The words, she had no idea where they came from. But, they made sense. "We... we should walk in the opposite direction from whatever that was, I think."

She really wished she was anywhere else but here. Even with someone else by her side, everything was so alien - so ethereal - that it made her feel like everything she was trying to do was in vain. What if there was no way out? She hoped that wasn't the case. Stay positive. You have to. You're no longer alone.

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A smile lit up Morgan's features for a moment, as he watched the young woman crouch to pick up the fallen lantern. He opened his mouth to speak, but the terrifying cry that rumbled from the depths of the asylum froze him in place for a few seconds. His hands sub-consciously curled inwards into fists and he shoved them in his pockets, looking back at the lantern-carrier. "You are right," he said, the faintest hint of the smile from before evident for a small time on his lips. "It would be better to see, than the opposite." His expression dropped into a more serious look as she asked the group for ideas. His brow furrowed. "... Not particularly. I think that is a good a plan as any." He ended up touching the brim of his hat with his left hand without realizing, then shrugged. "It's better than remaining here, after all."

Something scratched at the back of his mind, but, he chose to ignore it. The call of the terror from moments before was now nothing more than a memory, and a memory it should remain. Although, there was the matter of wariness... "I believe, if we are to advance, for caution to be the keyword. I doubt the being that called out was friendly." He tapped a foot, then lurched forwards. He hesitated for a brief time to glance back. "Should we be off?"

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A figure of shadows burst out from the surrounding darkness, standing just in sight of Saren. It was silent, its blank face, although cursed without eyes to see through, seemed to be staring at him. Suddenly, a flash of sharp-white teeth fixed themselves to where the being's lips would be and it gestured with one hand; 'Follow'. It swiftly turned, it's body shifting into that of a warped king cobra, large enough for its head to brush against the ceiling. It opened it's maw, a vicious light seeping out from beyond to illuminate the path ahead, then began to advance further into the murkiness.