Enter.. 'The Black Plague'
Strange, how just one unexpected event can cause you to be placed in a series of predicaments that you wouldn’t have even dared dream to happen within your life. Things that will forever plague your life because of that one simple unexpected event…
My life is now only a stage act for that which causes many (or should that be all?) to be frightened, even petrified of the darkness. I am merely a puppet; I know that now, for when ever I sleep the eyes of that demon stain my normally pleasant dreams. They (the eyes of my Mistress a Master) have captured me like a wild animal and caged me, not caring that I could-- no that I will die from being secluded from my normal environment, my normal everyday lifestyle.
When had this type of thinking start plaguing myself ever content mind and why? I myself still am at a loss for words as to why, I do have some clue as to when though. I have remained still of speech when someone tries to provoke me to speak what matters plague my mind.(I guess my countenance was that of an open picture book even if I had tried my hardest to keep a mask upon my face). For if I were to even try to utter a response to explain my diseased mind the person whom asked about my trouble would find me mad. I know that I am not mad, but my set predicament is far to complex for most minds to comprehend, plus.. Most people in a right state of mind would find my story far-fetched.
This perplexing situation started out as a normal activity of cleaning out my quickly expanding book collection. I had yelled a rather lot that day at the idiot for a fairy, Arta’Lichanic. He had been using some of my books as fuel for a fire, which, was not even needed in heat such as this. Which was the reason I had started cleaning the selves. I had to check to see what books he had burned (yes, I do keep a rather long list of the books that I own and read).
As I worked on my third book shelf in a rather idle fashion I found myself staring at a rather torn up piece of paper that had dropped out from in-between two other books. It had been from a book, which, from the look of it had never been read by myself. I remember turning this paper over and over in my small milk white hands. Cradling it almost like a hurt animal (though I would never care for a hurt animal, for I don’t have much compassion for such things) then while trying to decipher what was written on the page I caught sight of a faintly highlighted sentence which stated, “-She was primordial darkness made real.”
The words ‘primordial darkness made real’ were the first and only words from the phrase that I really cared about (which I was to learn later in the night was foolish). They could have been linked to the research I was conducting on the fairies that were slowly making their way into the town of Weston. I was so excited and quickly went back to read the small torn paper over, though, when I tried to decipher what the rest of the page said it seemed to get blurrier. To the point where only that highlighted quote remained legible.
This had not only startled me, but also frightened me, for I remember shrieking in fright and dropping that torn page. I know very well that I do not scream from most things, and those that know me well also know this, Art being one of these few individuals. He (Arta) must not have been all that far away from the room I was located at, for he quickly rushed into the room with a rather shocked look playing on his countenance
I must have looked worse than I had felt, for the fairy knelt down next to me and touch my clammy countenance; there had been worry residing in his emerald eyes then. Something I have to admit, I have never seen before. This had been the first time that the thing I felt safest around (my books) had ever attacked me, and, the first time I ever really felt anything other than some sort of anger towards the fairy that I had raised since birth. (Yes, I do hate children with rather strong passion; I have learned to mask this aspect of myself though)
Even if my memory is rather soggy, I do remember the peacock fairy’s words well, he spoke this, “Shino.. You haven’t ever screamed in terror as you did just now. That shows me that you are not only a human, but scared of something here is scary. What that is.. I do not know. What is it? I want it…” I had slapped him in response knowing that he had been smirking under the cover of his long black hair.
He hissed at me I remember as I stood breathing heavily. I hated him more than ever, I also remember vaguely promising to castrate him as he rushed out the door laughing. As I write this I still find that to be a rather good idea as I write in these pages that I call rather fondly my journal. Anyway-
Later in the night I found myself staring rather dully at the page. It didn’t seem to important and yet I held onto it as if it was the largest treasure in the world. I have even gone as far as to try to rip at the corners, see if the ink was inside, for never before had I seen something so positively astonishing as vanishing ink. It was incredible, but so very strange.
I had come to a conclusion after tearing off that seventh piece of paper from the small sample. The ink had just vanished, it didn’t soak up, it vanished. As if some great darkness took over and sucked the dark ink out of the page and into itself. Was that what that quote meant. Something was to be living, that was what I thought, and as I feel asleep. I found out.
She kept me still, in a dark room. She held me tight with her power as if I was the only thing she could touch with it, but I doubt that highly. She was the one the quote spoke of. For once that sleeping body awoken I found myself staring at something that really indeed looked like a living shadow. Her eyes were the thing that did it though. They kept me so still, held my breath in my throat so I couldn’t breathe. I felt sick, for the smell of jasmine was filled all around me. I could almost taste it I remember.
When I awoke the paper was in my hand, I was sweaty with a cold fear, a fear that I couldn’t figure out. What had happened I had only a slight clue. Now as I write this I do. For she still claws at me, feeding on my energy. I can feel her, her need to be brought to life.
