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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1513299
A story about a hybrid trapped in a room. Is everything real? Or is it all in her head?
A flicker of light stung her eyes, causing her to stir. A groan escaped her lips as she slowly sat up, cautious of the rush of blood

Cipher’s golden-brown eyes warily took in her the surroundings. The walls were a sickening pale pink, a large bed covered in pink sheets with a pink canopy sat in the middle of the room, pink painted dresser leaned against the far wall and small night table stood to the right of the bed, closest to Cipher. Shelves were covered with every toy imaginable; cloth dolls, porcelain dolls, painted wooden soldiers, little ballerinas…

“Oh, in the name of the great goddess, I’m in a little girly room.” Cipher shielded her eyes, trying not to linger on the cold, dead eyes of the dolls. She felt the color drain from her face, and her breathing quickened. Ten...nine...eight...

She stumbled onto the bed, the soft divan squeaking under her weight. Her eyes shot up at the sound, before hesitantly looking down at the heavy blanket. Resting her hand on the bed, she leaned over until it squeaked again. “Hmm…and ancient* bed?” She took a quick scan of the room, “I guess I’m not in Tritannia* anymore.”

A floor length mirror caught her eye, standing against the wall near the door. She jumped off the bed and walked over to it, her talons clicking against the wooden floorboards. She stopped in front of the reflective surface, studying the image projected back at her.

Cipher ran her clawed fingers across her darkly tanned skin, feeling for fresh tears in the flesh. When she found none, she turned to her head, burying her hands into her shortened, auburn hair. She cringed as she lightly touched a large bump, lip twitching. That explained the earlier unconsciousness.

She tenderly prodded her torso, lightly applying pressure down between her breasts. Again, no sign of injury.

The little Atherien* tilted her head, studying her tarhyn-esque* body. Small frame, svelte physique, long, toned muscles. A smile plastered itself across her face and she skipped away, her thick, sand colored tail widely swaying behind her.

She walked over to the wooden door, clasping her hand around the brass knob. Turning it, she was only met with resistance. Cipher rammed her shoulder into the door, unable to dislodge it.

She twisted the knob frantically, pulling on it until it fell apart in her hands. Cipher’s eyes darted between the lump of brass in her hands and the door. “No, no, no, no!” she whimpered, slamming her fist against the door. “Hello? Hello! Help me! Let me out!”

She spun around, searching for another exit. A window above the bed caught her eye. She squinted her eyes, trying to remember the window from when she scanned the room. She cautiously walked to the bed, climbed onto its soft surface, and reached for the window sill. She looked out the window, finding only pitched black darkness.

“What the-?” Cipher pulled on the wooden frame of the window, trying to open it. Grunting and groaning,  Cipher put all of her weight into getting the window open, only succeeding in tearing up the pillowed under her.

Collapsing, she crossed her arms, pondering her next move. She narrowed her eyes, lightly tapping her chin. What to do…what to do…? She bit her lip and sighed. A sense of dread at the idea of being trapped in the room began to flood her.

Suddenly, there was loud bang at the door. Cipher jumped, clutching the bedding. Slowly, she slipped off the bed and walked to the door, her eyes trained on it. “H-hello? Who’s there?”

“Cipher? Cipher!”

She paused, turning her head slightly. At first, the voice sounded unreal, fake. Her chest constricted as the realization sunk in…

“Caraka? Is that you?” She reached out towards the door, lightly scraping her claws against the wood. “Is that really you?”

“Cipher, you have to open the door, please!” she begged. The sound of choked sobs emanated from the other side of the door, making Cipher’s heart sink.

“Caraka? Are you crying? What’s wrong? What’s going on? Where is everyone else?”

“You have to let me in, please. I beg of you for the love of the great goddess.” There was more loud banging as Cipher felt around the door, hoping for a more secret way of opening it.

“I can’t! I can’t open the door!” she said frantically. Her heart bashed against her sternum as panic began to sap her strength. “I can’t…”

“Please, please.” she whined. “They are after me.”

“Who is after you? Caraka you have to tell me.” Cipher put her ear up against the door, “Caraka?”

“Them, them.” she hissed. “They are.”

Cipher’s face contorted in confusion, “What? I don’t get who they are. Who are ‘they’”?

There was a pause. “Them.”

She sighed, exasperated. “Caraka, stop it with your bloody riddles. This isn’t funny.” she shrieked, “Stop beating around the bush already.”

Cipher was met with silence. The only sounds filling her ears the sounds of her own rough breathing. “Caraka…?”

A horrified shrieked echoed through the door, sending Cipher back, protecting her sensitive ears from the high piercing sound. A hiss escaped her lips as she lowered herself into a crouch. Her eyes struggled to stay on the door, even as the scream rang in her ears. “Caraka!” she cried.

She ran back to the door, slamming her fist against it. “Caraka? Come on talk to me! Answer me!” Cipher was only met by silence. Sickening silence. 

Dread filled the pit of her stomach, making her feel sick. She doubled over, vomit tickling the back of her throat as multiple scenarios crept into her mind.

She stumbled back over to her bed, seizing the post. She waited for the sound that would cure her of her sickness; the sound of Caraka’s voice. Yet it never came.

Cipher, calm yourself. There must be an explanation of this right? Right? Tears hung onto the edge of her eyes, sobs stuck in her throat. Caraka must be all right, correct?

She slid down the post, body trembling uncontrollably. She pulled her knees up to her chest, her tail wrapping itself around her shins. She held onto the post to keep the room from spinning, to keep herself in reality. What ever reality really was.

She closed her eyes, concentrating on her breathing. After a moment, calm slowly began to rush over her, yet the sense of fear remained.

Bang

Cipher jumped, looking around frenziedly, unable to determine the source of the noise.

Bang.

Her heart sunk.

Bang.

Using the post, she dragged herself to her feet.

Bang.

Wobbly, she made her way to the source of the noise: the closet.

Bang.

She hesitated, staring at the knob, wondering if this one, too, was going to collapse in her hands.

Bang.

Cautiously, her hand hovered in the air above the doorknob, muscles tensing in her arm, as if it didn’t want to touch the handle. Swallowing the lump that gathered in her throat, she turned the handle and pulled open the door.

She could feel the color drain from her face, her knees became wobbly, her mouth hung in an inaudible scream of horror. There, standing in front of her was Aaralynn. Lips devoid of color, eyes wide and unseeing, an ashen tone to her skin. Yet, most notable of all was the thick noose digging itself into her already bruised and reddened neck.

Cipher choked on her horrified screams, only gasping at the sight. “No…no…” she squeaked. She reached out but snapped her hand back, tentatively touching her own lips. “Aarè…”

She was unable to take her eyes off the sight. Unable to move. Unable to breath. Her body couldn’t decide if it wanted to collapse or remain shakily standing.

Her eyes jumped across the body in disbelief. This couldn’t really be Aaralynn?

Then, something caught her eye, or rather she caught Aaralynn’s eye, swiveling in its sunken socket. The clouded green orb twisted to look at the Atherien, and bore into Cipher, as if it was trying to decipher her own soul.

“You…killed me…” croaked Aaralynn.

Cipher blinked, taken off guard. “What? W-what are you talking about?!”

The dead eyes continued to stare at her. “You killed…me. Do you…not…see?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t kill you. How could I have killed you? I don’t even know where you were!”

A slow, dark and sinister smile crept across Aaralynn’s colorless lips. “A murderer you are. Their blood stains your hands.” 

Cipher hands formed into fists at her side, and began to shake. “I am no murderer. Stop accusing me of being a murderer!”

Aaralynn raised one fragile finger at Cipher. “Do you…not…see it? The blood…the blood on your hands?”

Confused, she relaxed and clasped her fingers back into fists. She glanced down at her balled fists; reluctantly, she opened her hands, staring at the blue blood that covered them and dripped from the tips of her clawed fingers. She lifted her hand, the blood pooling in the palm of her hand. “B-b-but…I haven’t killed anyone!”

Cipher looked up, only to be met with the emptiness of the closet. She licked her parched lips, the warm blood dripping down her forearm. “I’m not a murderer…I haven’t done anything!” she shrieked, clutching at her hair, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Why do you insist on accusing me?”

Then, she felt something grab her ankle, making her stumble. She glanced back, horror striking her. Grasping her ankle was the partially mutilated body of Kytheran.

He pulled her leg out from under her as a strangled scream escaped her lips. She landed against the floor with a loud thump, her head bouncing on the wood flooring.

She clutched the new bump forming on the back of her head. With one eye open, she studied Kytheran’s new form. Deep lacerations covered his face, caking it with dried blood. His golden eyes where sunken into his skull and his ashen skin pulled tight across his cheekbones. A lopsided smile hung on his lips as his bony fingers tightened around her ankle, trying to pull himself out from under the bed. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked hoarsely.

         “L-Let me go!” she stammered.

“Let you go? Now why would I do that? Even you must face the atrocities you committed.” He tilted his head, the lopsided smile remaining.

“I haven’t done anything! You must have me mistaken for someone else!” Cipher said.

One of his eyebrows raised, cracking the skin of his forehead. “Mistaken? I don’t think so.” he said darkly. “I don’t get mistaken, milady.” His grip tightened as he brought his free arm up and grasping her shin.

For a moment, Cipher stared at Kytheran’s corpse as he started to climb up her leg. As reason began to snap back into her, she pulled her gun out of its holster and aimed it at his head. “Sorry,  but you are scaring the hell out of me.”

She pulled the trigger and watched his head whip back. He fell limply on her legs, eyes still open. Cipher gasped when she saw the blood trickle out of the round wound; it was not blue as she expected, but black.

She pushed the body off of her and scrambled to her feet. She watched as the body burst into smoke. She blinked. What is all this? Are these people not my friends?

Cipher turned back to the door, eyes narrowed. Weapon in hand, she walked to the formidable door. Standing in front of it, she frowned. “I have an issue with you.”

“Really? How big of an issue?”

         Cipher yelped in surprise. “What now?!” she whined, “A talking door? Just what I need!”

“Not the door. Over here, the mirror…”

Cipher turned her head towards the mirror, her frown deepening. “Oh…”

The reflective surface now hosted a new image. A willowy, small woman in a long, form fitting, midnight blue dress with silver accents stood instead of her own image. Her silvery, wavy locks curled just below her shoulders, two black, wolf-styled ears poking out from under the voluptuous tresses. A piece of white mask covered the right side of her face, leaving only the left icy blue orb exposed.

The Atherien blinked. Drawn to the woman, she walked toward the mirror. She tilted her head, face twisting in confusion. “Who…are you?”

The woman inclined her head, a small smile touching her lips. “You can call me Lady Carakasla.”

“Lady Carakasla?” Cipher’s eyes widened. “You’re not-”

The small smile widened menacingly. “I am but who you believe I am.”

She stepped back, shaking her head. “No. How…” she glanced around, “…how did you get in there?”

Carakasla glanced up, her smile disappearing, “There are many ways, and curses, to trap someone within the mirrored realm.” She twitched, licking her lips.

“Milady!” Cipher placed her hands on the glass, scanning the woman behind it. “How long have you been in there?”

The woman bowed her head, as if pondering something. “Many trips of the moons. Countless. Since the time of the incident.”

She blinked, mouth agape. “That long? Five hundred years?”

Carakasla slowly inclined her head, looking surprised at Cipher’s reaction. “Yes…trapped. Forever trapped. Never shall I return to my beloved…”

Her eyes saddened. So that was where she was all these years…

“You never did abandon your people. Everyone thought you did.” she whispered.

“No,” Carakasla didn’t look up at Cipher, her voice becoming more shrill as she spoke. “I did no such thing. No such thing. Not me, not little old me.”

The small woman nervously fidgeted with her fingers. She seemed unwilling to look at Cipher, as if she would accidentally reveal something with her saddened eyes.

Cipher bit her lip. “My lady. How did you ever get here?” She glanced back at the room, shivering, “This horrid place.”

Carakasla blinked, her face blank for a moment. “I-I…well…I can not remember.” Her lip twitched, looking like a snarl.

She backed up, surprised by her sudden reaction. “Carakasla?…”

A low hiss escaped through her clench teeth, ears back, shoulders hunched. “I did nothing. Nothing. I am not a murderer. I swear, I have not caused no injury to no one.”

Carakasla looked up, her uncovered eye dark. Her lips were fully pulled over her teeth, the pearly white teeth gleaming as saliva dripped down the enamel.

Cipher put her arms up protectively, unsure of what to do. Carakasla had changed her mood so quickly. She shut her eyes, tensing her body in preparation of what the small woman could possibly do.

She stood, in that defensive position, for a while, before she tentatively began to unfurl herself, unscathed. Her eyes darted around until she saw the writing on the wall. Literally.

Sprawled all across the walls, word were written in a red liquid she couldn’t decipher. Murderer. Traitor. Betrayer. Abandoner.

Cipher turned back to Carakasla. Her small frame was riddled with tension, her eye filled with hatred and anger, her breath coming in short, staggered snorts. “Mistress? What are you doing?”

“Why must you insist on accusing me? I done none to no person!” She shrieked.

“I haven’t accused you of anything!” Cipher protested. Then, she froze, the words stirring up feelings of déjà vu. She shook her head, those feelings were not important at the moment.

“Murderer? I have killed none. None I tell you! Why do you not believe me?” whimpered Carakasla.

“I believe you.” Cipher whispered.

Carakasla rolled her head, each vertebrae in her neck cracking at the pressure. Her eye was now hollow, empty. “And why? I am a liar. Remember? No better then a common silver tongue.”

Cipher sighed. “This room then. It is a mere product. No?”

The mirrored woman raised a woman. “That I cannot answer. What ever happened to you, was not of my doing.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “What? Everything? Caraka, Aaralynn, Kytheran. They aren’t all really dead or possessed are they?”

Weakly, Carakasla shrugged her shoulders “I already said. That is something I cannot answer.”

Cipher felt her lip quiver. She collapsed to her knees and took in a stuttering breath. “Tell me. Tell me all of this is not real. Tell me this is all in my head.”

The air became thick with silence. “Reality is only what you make of it.”

Cipher felt her heart wrench. “I don’t know what reality is. I don’t know what is real. I heard Caraka’s voice, but I never saw her. I saw Aaralynn hanging in the closet, yet she disappears when I turn my head. I felt Kytheran clutching my leg, trying to pull me under the bed, yet when I shot him, he bled black blood.” She looked up to the mirror. “I cannot even say if you are real. I cannot touch you, smell you. I cannot even sense you! How am I to know you are not a trick of the eye?”

Carakasla’s lips became a thin line, her face slowly voiding itself of emotion. “I ask myself the same question everyday, when I am forced to face the demonic ones. Reality is merely the fantasy of the mind.”

The Atherien bowed her head. “A mere fantasy of the mind.”

Carakasla began to back away from the mirror, disappearing into the darkness behind her. “Remember my darling, and you will survive the tainted one’s tricks.”

Cipher stayed knelt on the ground in front of the mirror, staring at the floorboards. She chewed over her words in every way she could, trying to find more meaning behind them.

She did not know how long she knelt there before she heard the sounds on the other side of the door. She did not move; they were more then likely another mind trick. More false reality attacking her senses.

Cipher heard someone, or something, break down the door. Still, she remained perfectly still. Her senses bombarded her mind with messages of another presence. They were completely ignored.

“Cipher?”

Her lip twitched. No one is there. It’s all a fantasy.

“Cipher? Cipher? Are you okay? Talk to me!”

Slowly, she turned her head, her golden brown eyes slowly widening in shock.

“Caraka?…”
© Copyright 2009 Shadowrider (carakasla at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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