Gaps, Section Two

Look at that, people. I finished it ahead of schedule. Now, now, hush your congratulations and praises. Okay, well, maybe just a little more. Good, that’s good. Ah, yes, basking in the adoration of my fans, what glory.

Alright, enough stupid narcissistic talk. Besides the obvious news that I finished this, I do have my next story planned out. I’m really looking forward to it. I may not get to writing much of it this upcoming week, but I’ll definitely work a lot on it (finish it, hopefully) during the holidays.


Section Two
I awoke. I was born. I knew nothing but what I was created for. That, and an intense fear. The darkened house I was in screamed inaudibly into my mind, assaulting my senses with a chaotic horror that threatened reality. I felt things brush past me in the dark, dark red eyes glitter in the shadow, and slender claws scrape down my neck. I struggled to stand up and made my way to where I, somehow, knew a light switch to be. I flipped the switch and immediately wished I hadn’t, that I had never thought of it or had somehow not known where it was. The image would be in my mind for as long as I lived, which, if the universe was merciful, would be as short as possible.
Everything muddled into another. Exposed bones, black wings and claws and eyes and hearts, blood covering the walls and an unholy spectre of true horror.
I was conflicted, I felt as though I was of two parts; two inner voices, each screaming at a different tone. Both speaking and trying to control me and tell me what to do. At some point, one won out over the other; the other was reduced to a whisper and was gone. A contract was made at that moment, an unspoken agreement between the two parts as to what their roles were. I was unaware of what it was, but sensed its formation.
I know not how long the horrific, charnel images and scenes and creatures assailed me. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. Whatever the length of time, it was stretched intolerably long. At some point, though, it instantly stopped, and I was left alone in the dark. I still had no understanding of what was happening, but laid down to sleep. A moment before I surrendered to dreams, a flash of understanding went through me, understanding of what I had to do. But it was only a flash; I saw what it was, for a moment, then it was gone and I was in the dark once more.

I did not wake for some time, again, but when I did, I had a fuller understanding of what was happening. I stood in front of an open doorway, darkness behind it and stairs leading down. But from below, a shaking took hold of the floor. A soundless growl turned into a shriek in my mind, coming from somewhere beneath. The darkness seeped out from the doorway like a black mist, with eyes and hands with no origin. Something from within this house was watching me, hating me, waiting for me to make a move merely so it could strike back against me.
My feelings from the previous night were true. I was one part of a set. This body held two minds, and I had drawn the short end of the stick. I had to experience everything that the other side couldn’t handle, things that would drive it mad. Possibly things that already had; perhaps they were the source of my creation. I had to protect the other side.
The shaking subsided after an interminable length of time, and the mist retracted into the shadow of the basement. It was waiting, for now. It would wait as long as it needed. It had no shortage of time on its hands.
Through some method I didn’t understand, I handed control back to the other side. I would be waiting, too, waiting for the time when the house would make its next move and I would need to step in.

When I awoke next, it was again night. I did not know why I had awoken, as, unlike the night before, there were no horrors before me; only shadow, darkness, and an intense sense of dread. I could see nothing, hear nothing, but I could still feel it, all around me, weighing down my mind and body with an almost physical force. Nothing had awoken me, but even while sleeping I must have sensed the anxiety around me. Tension and loathing, a palpable hatred surrounding me.
I tried to return to sleep, but it eluded me for the majority of the night. What sleep I got was fitful, and I still could feel the area around me, vigilant even in slumber. At some point early in the morning, a deeper sleep must have come over me, and I gave myself over to the other half. If I could sleep, then I would not be needed to protect him.

Even when I was not in control, I still kept myself aware of what was happening, ready to step in when I was needed. I came awake again when he was opening the basement door once more. How I wished he would stay away from it, but I could not force him to, not yet. I needed to make him come to that conclusion on his own.
The black mist reached out gently, taking the shape of a woman’s arm. Smooth and untouchable, yet reaching out with a haunting length. It brushed past my ear, softly touching my neck. Softly grasping it, tightening, until it was a crushing grip. I jerked away and the arm retracted, leaving only a faint wisp of the vapor in its place, I felt it move past me as it returned to the doorway, and gave myself back over to the other half.
It was not long until I returned. He was halfway around the basement, now. Something was dripping onto the floor, and not knowing what it was made it all the worse. I looked above me, and red eyes and shining white teeth returned my stare. The teeth bent themselves into a cruel smile and they lowered towards me, staring not at my body but at my mind. The face – if I could even call it that – was featureless aside from the eyes and teeth.
“Leave,” it said, over and over, but the sound came from everywhere; it did not echo throughout the house, but came from throughout the house. Voices high and low, male and female, human and… something else. Something so inhuman they hardly sounded like words anymore, just a sound that spoke of malice. The teeth and eyes came closer and closer, a hair’s breadth from my face, and I could feel an icy coldness coming off of them in waves. A choking sound came from within me, and I realized it was a sound of crying. A single tear ran down my face.
The voices and eyes and teeth, now all around me, left in a whirlwind. I was alone in the basement again, and let go of control of the body. I had to make him leave, for both of our sakes.

I said that I kept some amount of awareness even when I was not in direct control. When I felt that the other half was getting in the car, I let that awareness slip away. I did not know if he could sense me or not, but if he could, perhaps he would gain some clarity that he had been lacking before if I was not watching from the sidelines. I could only hope. How dearly I wished he would just leave now and never return to that place. But I doubted he would. I would need to take control at times not only to protect him, but, if necessary, to make him leave by my power without showing him why. I would make him fear me, if necessary.
When I felt him returning to the car to go back to the house, I whispered hesitation to the other side, subtle hints of what may come, a string of cryptic dread-filled words. I could feel the other side respond, and could feel him hesitate, but he continued on his way. He drove back to the house and went inside, leaving the door open. I saw an opportunity and I took it; I took over and shut the door, then let the other side take control again. There was a moment of surprise, doubt, and paranoia, but it passed and he left it shut, making excuses. Excuses were my greatest foe in all of this – he would be able to come up with excuses for any number of small things that could happen, so I’d have to take the reins and show him something he wouldn’t be able to excuse.

The next night, I awoke of my own accord. Nothing disturbed me, though that same prevailing terror and mystery filled the dark air around me. I made my way upstairs and into the open hallway in the middle of the second storey. I laid down and fell back asleep. I’d give him something he couldn’t excuse. Even if he didn’t immediately take action on it, I’d keep giving him more and more things that would increase his doubts and anxiety about this place until it all started adding together. In either case, I’d succeed. I had no choice; I had to leave this place.

When I awoke again, I was once more in front of the basement doorway. The door was shut, and my eyes had been closed. I opened the door and felt a cold breeze drift up from below, a faintly-heard word on the air. One large eye opened up in the shadow, an eye the size of a beach ball. It moved imperceptibly towards me until it was just barely held within the doorway. I could see things, inside the eye. It stared at me as I stared at it, and I could almost understand it, just like the word that came up from beneath when I opened the door. It was like hearing a sentence in a dream, something you knew had profound meaning, but not being able to fully understand it in the dream, and unable to remember what it was upon awakening. It was there, but not quite there.
Just before I was able to get a deeper knowledge of just what it was, the expression of the eye changed. I cannot put into words how it did so, being without face or any other physical connection, but it did. It changed from being inquisitive and enigmatic to being filled with loathing and despise. It rose, looking down at me, and from below it black mist poured forth, filling the room. I felt things much as I had the first night; sharp claws and teeth and hands with far too many fingers, reaching for me, touching me, grabbing me, crushing me. I felt a pressure on my chest and could feel my lungs struggling for air. The eye hovered above me, watching and approving of all that happened. Then the pressure resided and I saw the mist dissipating. It all began leaving me, but spoke one last word into my mind before the eye faded away. “Leave.”
I was gasping for breath, but gained control of it. I left the door open as I closed my eyes and let go of my hold on the body. A small amount of the physical darkness remained as I shut them. Little things would add up, I hoped.

He was leaving again when I awoke next. I knew that he wasn’t leaving for good, not yet, but did as I had before. I let go of my awareness, my ability to instantly take control of him, hoping he would notice, and when he began returning, I fed him more hesitation. I could only hope this would work, for my own sanity – if that was even existent. He was trying to find a renter for the house. It was laughable, as others didn’t have someone like me to shield them from the terror of the house. But perhaps a reaction of someone who saw it would push him further.
As he drove back, I no longer whispered doubts. I screamed them into his mind, not holding back. I could feel it taking effect, and continued. I was breaking him down bit by bit, and felt that I was getting close to finishing the job. After I sensed he couldn’t take more without completely falling apart then and there, I stopped. Stopped the screaming, anyhow. I was silent for a moment, then started whispering hesitation into him once again until he was back inside the house.
I decided not to take any action for a little while unless necessary. I would give him a moment to absorb what was happening before I broke down his final defenses, his fallback of excuses.

I almost awoke sometime in the afternoon of the next day; I sensed a horror of the house nearby, but did not need to take control, not just yet. He didn’t see anything.
But soon afterward, I did. I awoke and found myself in the basement with two people, a man and a woman. My hopes had come true, someone had come and seen the terrors that waited in the basement. The woman pointed in a direction, and I looked. Standing in a glow without a source was a creature or… thing, for I knew not if it could even be considered something living, nor something once living. It stood in its red glow and let the blood drip off what would be considered its fingers, though they were of an utterly alien sort. Bone and claw laced with metal, and the blood dripping and dripping with no perceivable origin. The man and woman screamed and I watched and waited for it to fade away. “Leave,” it said, but I stood firm. The man and woman trembled as we watched it step closer and closer, then into shadow it went and vanished from sight. I felt as though it was gone, and gave control once more to the other side. Closer and closer to the breaking point.

Once the couple had left and he was upstairs again, I decided I would begin my final act. Before he got within sight of the dining room, I took control and rearranged the chairs, then returned to his place and let go of the body. He saw the chairs and I could feel fear growing within him, and knew I had planned wisely.
As he walked forward, I took control, fixed the chairs, went back to his previous spot, gave him control again, then repeated the action over and over, switching the chairs between the two positions. I could sense the other side’s doubt and thoughts of insanity and fears of untold horrors of the house, and kept up the action. I hadn’t realized it at first, but since my actions took up a considerable amount of time, the hands of the clock seemed to be spinning at an unnatural speed to him as well, adding to the effect. He was screaming and I was smiling. This was it, I was near the end. I felt the strain he was experiencing; strain on mind and body, stretching both until they threatened to snap. And they did snap. He passed out onto the floor and I took the chance to take control and write two words on a piece of paper: “Get out”. I pinned the paper to the ceiling above where he had fallen, fixed the chairs one final time, then returned to where he had been, closed my eyes, and let go of control.
I stayed aware of what the other side was doing the entire time; I knew this was a crucial moment, and would need to be available at any second. I wrote messages onto the piece of paper between his blinks after he had run outside in fear, and I could feel that I was close.
I hadn’t wished to expose myself to him, as I would essentially be admitting his insanity. But I knew that it was necessary, that it was needed to give him one final push. I began writing the words on his arm and, at the final word, let go of control whilst I was still writing.
I felt a wash of understanding and terror come over him, and knew he was leaving for good, finally. That meant I could leave, too. I no longer needed to watch over him, no longer needed to protect him. I had told him everything he needed to know without truly showing him anything of what lurked within the house. I had succeeded, and could take solace in that. He didn’t need me anymore; he could fend for himself from here on out. I could leave, and leave entirely.
I went to sleep for the final time and left him alone to live his life.


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