Drip drip drip
She looked around at the sound.The inn was full, yet somehow the sound still rang through.
Drip drip drip
The sound echoed in the silence that now surrounded her. Faces, all familiar. Some she could put names to, others she had just seen before. They were all staring at her as she stood there in the middle of the inn.
Drip drip drip
This time it was felt upon the toe of one of her old taped Docs. Her gaze fell to spot a small pool of violet color sliding off the duct taped covered boot. Another oddity caught in her sight. The sprig of flowers that had been in bloom in the breast pocket of her coat, a token that had been bestowed upon her, had changed. Where there had been violet there now was white.
Drip drip drip
The violet color streamed away from her. A tiny tributary flowing across the floor to join a river of swirling colors. Reds, blues greens, browns, blacks, yellows. All the colors of any rainbow she could imagine. Her gaze moved to follow the flow of the growing river. A white boot stood beside the color river. The girl lifted her gaze to look to the owner of the boot.White pants, white shirt, white skin, white eyes, white hair.
Drip drip drip
The man could have been a ghost, but she had seen him a moment before in full color, staring at her like the others. Her eyes looked to the rest of the crowd. Features had faded except for hints of shadowing. The crowd around had become outlines of their former colorful selves. She could feel the accusations in their white stares. The crowd of drawings bled of colors started to close in around her. There was little she could do but duck her head and move. They fell away like so many sheets of paper as she moved through them. A path was calling her, her steps followed the river of color as it wended it way towards the kitchen and seeped beneath the door.
Swish swish swish
She was too focused on watching and following the flow of colors. She should have noticed that chimes had not sang a single note when she had moved. Should have noticed that when she had pushed through the door it was not into the kitchen she had wandered. Should have recognized that sound.
Swish swish swish
A few steps more in following the color before she stopped. River becoming more of a serpent now as it started to coil about the leg of a small table. Around and around it climbed up. It was then that she saw what was on the table. A leather bound book and resting upon that was a paint pallette. Breath came quick then. No. Not again. The girl's glance darted around to find a nearly bare room. Beside the table was an easel and canvas. A corner held a drape of silver silk. The wall infront of her held a portrait. A frame of black that writhed and moved surrounded the painting. Her muscles refused to heed her mind's cries to move...run...flee. Transfixed, she stood staring at the portrait of a pious girl. Knelt in prayer. Hands in delicate steeple, her chin lifted just a bit as she looked to the heavens and basked in the beam of light from above that made the halo over the girl's head glisten.
Swish swish swish
She needed no closer look to see the needles that pierced skin of the one in the portrait to make the muscles hold the pose. Or to see that the slashes of crimson that stained the tattered sunday dress and stockinged legs were blood seeping from wounds. Or perhaps the worst of it all, the spikes driven through skull to hold the halo in place. Muscles and skin ached with the memories of those things. She couldn't breath. A flare of fire snag along the nerves of her arm as a long thin needle sank through fabric then skin at her shoulder. Pins and needles sensation replacing the fire as the tip of the needle hit it's target at a junction of nerves.
Swish
Recognition of that sound hit as did the sear of a pain across her back. It was the sound a switch of willow made when it was cutting through the air to strike. Finally her body heeded her minds cries to move. She stumbled forward away from the man and his switch. She could feel those startling emerald eyes calculating where the next strike should hit. The girl struggled to lift her working arm up in time to catch the next blow that fell. Willow tearing through fabric into skin as it cut through her sleeve. She crashed into the wall beside the painting. Back pressed to that wall she was sliding away from the portrait. That which had been a frame around the portrait unfurling a tendril to touch upon the smudge of blood the girl was leaving as a trail upon the wall. " Forgive....forgive...forgive. " The words spilled from the girl's lips as they had done before.
Laughter
The Muse's laughter echoed through the room as it's black tendril tasted the blood. " So sweet." the Muse's voice whispered her want to the Artist. A few flecks of blood already stained the man's tailored suit as he persued. The girl fought to break the hold his gaze had upon her as his arm lifted again. She felt the jolt of the blow, but her turn had offered him the shoulder he had already numbed with his needle. It was the few seconds she needed. A grab was made to the table. Fingers just barely able to grab up the book and pallette to use as shield when the next strike from the switch came. She heard the switch cracking as it hit, but there was no time to look, she was running to throw herself at the door. The shrieks of the maddened Muse sounding behind her as she hit.
She looked around at the sound.The inn was full, yet somehow the sound still rang through.
Drip drip drip
The sound echoed in the silence that now surrounded her. Faces, all familiar. Some she could put names to, others she had just seen before. They were all staring at her as she stood there in the middle of the inn.
Drip drip drip
This time it was felt upon the toe of one of her old taped Docs. Her gaze fell to spot a small pool of violet color sliding off the duct taped covered boot. Another oddity caught in her sight. The sprig of flowers that had been in bloom in the breast pocket of her coat, a token that had been bestowed upon her, had changed. Where there had been violet there now was white.
Drip drip drip
The violet color streamed away from her. A tiny tributary flowing across the floor to join a river of swirling colors. Reds, blues greens, browns, blacks, yellows. All the colors of any rainbow she could imagine. Her gaze moved to follow the flow of the growing river. A white boot stood beside the color river. The girl lifted her gaze to look to the owner of the boot.White pants, white shirt, white skin, white eyes, white hair.
Drip drip drip
The man could have been a ghost, but she had seen him a moment before in full color, staring at her like the others. Her eyes looked to the rest of the crowd. Features had faded except for hints of shadowing. The crowd around had become outlines of their former colorful selves. She could feel the accusations in their white stares. The crowd of drawings bled of colors started to close in around her. There was little she could do but duck her head and move. They fell away like so many sheets of paper as she moved through them. A path was calling her, her steps followed the river of color as it wended it way towards the kitchen and seeped beneath the door.
Swish swish swish
She was too focused on watching and following the flow of colors. She should have noticed that chimes had not sang a single note when she had moved. Should have noticed that when she had pushed through the door it was not into the kitchen she had wandered. Should have recognized that sound.
Swish swish swish
A few steps more in following the color before she stopped. River becoming more of a serpent now as it started to coil about the leg of a small table. Around and around it climbed up. It was then that she saw what was on the table. A leather bound book and resting upon that was a paint pallette. Breath came quick then. No. Not again. The girl's glance darted around to find a nearly bare room. Beside the table was an easel and canvas. A corner held a drape of silver silk. The wall infront of her held a portrait. A frame of black that writhed and moved surrounded the painting. Her muscles refused to heed her mind's cries to move...run...flee. Transfixed, she stood staring at the portrait of a pious girl. Knelt in prayer. Hands in delicate steeple, her chin lifted just a bit as she looked to the heavens and basked in the beam of light from above that made the halo over the girl's head glisten.
Swish swish swish
She needed no closer look to see the needles that pierced skin of the one in the portrait to make the muscles hold the pose. Or to see that the slashes of crimson that stained the tattered sunday dress and stockinged legs were blood seeping from wounds. Or perhaps the worst of it all, the spikes driven through skull to hold the halo in place. Muscles and skin ached with the memories of those things. She couldn't breath. A flare of fire snag along the nerves of her arm as a long thin needle sank through fabric then skin at her shoulder. Pins and needles sensation replacing the fire as the tip of the needle hit it's target at a junction of nerves.
Swish
Recognition of that sound hit as did the sear of a pain across her back. It was the sound a switch of willow made when it was cutting through the air to strike. Finally her body heeded her minds cries to move. She stumbled forward away from the man and his switch. She could feel those startling emerald eyes calculating where the next strike should hit. The girl struggled to lift her working arm up in time to catch the next blow that fell. Willow tearing through fabric into skin as it cut through her sleeve. She crashed into the wall beside the painting. Back pressed to that wall she was sliding away from the portrait. That which had been a frame around the portrait unfurling a tendril to touch upon the smudge of blood the girl was leaving as a trail upon the wall. " Forgive....forgive...forgive. " The words spilled from the girl's lips as they had done before.
Laughter
The Muse's laughter echoed through the room as it's black tendril tasted the blood. " So sweet." the Muse's voice whispered her want to the Artist. A few flecks of blood already stained the man's tailored suit as he persued. The girl fought to break the hold his gaze had upon her as his arm lifted again. She felt the jolt of the blow, but her turn had offered him the shoulder he had already numbed with his needle. It was the few seconds she needed. A grab was made to the table. Fingers just barely able to grab up the book and pallette to use as shield when the next strike from the switch came. She heard the switch cracking as it hit, but there was no time to look, she was running to throw herself at the door. The shrieks of the maddened Muse sounding behind her as she hit.