Sin Nomine

As a little girl her mother used to read her stories. Great stories of kings and queens, of princesses and their knights in shining armor, and of powerful sorcerers that lived in worlds filled with magic. She used to believe these stories. And sometimes, at night, when she closed her eyes and thought real hard she could picture herself in that world. She was a girl like so many others – a dreamer for something greater than she was.

She called her world of fairytales by Sin Nomine, without a name, such a place so wonderful to her young mind it was beyond the demands of title. Perfection. She'd sit in her room in a tall tower of a great castle that over looked the green lands, sitting there in front of her white and cherry colored vanity, brushing at her long locks of hair. And she'd hum to herself; some unknown tune while she pulled her hair back with a pretty ice-pink ribbon that matched her dress. And she was happy.

Sometimes, though, in greater frequency as time went on, she'd wander out of her room, decorated in soft, pretty shades. Until she completely forgot about her room in the castle. Until she forgot that she had ever been inside that castle at all. With so much to explore and touch on the outside, with the weather never anything less than perfect, why would she ever want to be inside?

There was a cave on the top of a rocky hill, dark and foreboding in appearance. It stared down on everything the little girl had dreamed up, like a great black eye that filled her with the most terrible sensations when she ever dared to catch its gaze. But under the cave, at the base of the rocky hill were big grassy fields that looked oh-so soft to the touch, and temptation is something even the most disciplined of children couldn't stay away from. And those lush fields! How the little girl could run, casing butterflies, swells of laughter, sounding so much larger than she really was. And she was happy.

Each time she dreamed she came closer to the blackened cave that over looked her pretty green fields, unknowingly. So far from everything she had run, that even the great castle was a mere speck between the line of blue sky and green grass. The little girl continued to play in the fields, chasing butterflies and laughing until she had reached the end. Small hands pressed against the cold base of the rocky hill in front of her. A terrible chill ran down her spine, and off her hand flew from the black rock. So fast the little girl ran, not knowing how she ended up so close.

There was one night though, one night when she was right in front of cave, peering into its seemingly endless darkness. Fear made the little hairs on her arm stand on end, her eyes were wide, not truly wanting to be in front of the cave, but she couldn't move. So intrigued she was, terrified, but intrigued. The little girl leaned forward on her small feet, her bright eyes squinting into the darkness, ears strained, trying to hear something, anything, coming from the cave. But no, there was nothing, nothing but black. So much time was wasted just standing in front of the large opening, staring. She remember warnings she had never heard, telling her to stay away from the cave, to never go in there, because something terrible was waiting inside.

It could have been the cave, or perhaps nothing more than her childish curiosity, but one night her small feet took one big, brave step into the dark cave. And then she was in it. And then nothing. Nothing happened. She couldn't remember why she had been so scared to enter the cave, the cool darkness was not frightening at all, it made her curious. What was in there? The little girl, she promised herself, would find out what made the place so special.

Each night she'd venture further and further into the cave, wondering why everyone stayed so far away from it. Her dreams kept getting longer and longer as her journey into the mysterious cave deepened. What was in here? There never seemed to be anything but herself and the dark cave walls that were cool to the touch.

Her bare feet would make a soft padding noise as she crept along the cold floor. It was smooth to walk on, unlike the jagged walls. One night, and every night then on she started to hear a noise, indistinguishable and strange. It drove her forward, making her curiosity swell.

And then, just like that, a night came when she reached the cave's end, and there was nothing. She had explored everything and yet she found nothing. It was empty, aside from herself. She sighed sadly, wishing she could understand. She had gone so far only to come up empty handed, and she was disappointed. The little girl sat down in the cold floor, wondering why.

But there was a woman in front of her. With long hair so white that it seemed to glow inside the darkness of the cave. Her skin was tightly stretched over her pointed face, her high, sharp cheekbones almost looking as if they'd split through the translucent flesh, and just below were her thin lips, stretched into a dangerous grin, knowing and cruel. But it was the woman's blank eyes, that just as white as her hair stared down at the little girl, that scared the child. Large white orbs like big holes that led to nowhere. Her bony fingers, pale and withered, beckoned her forward, her blackened nails filed to vicious claw-like points moving with an unknown threat. And the girl ran.

The next night she returned to the cave the woman was there again, still grinning. She bent over, reaching out her hand and she spoke. Repeating the same words she would say to the little girl every night she would dream. "Come with me, child." Her harsh voice would rasp. "I can teach you great things." Her white eyes staring maliciously down at the dreaming girl. And each night she stared a little longer at the frightening old woman, but each night she listened to the growing whispers that told her to stay away. She turned and she ran. Ran back to her bed in her pink room with the little painted hearts that lined the border at the top of the ceiling.

Until one night. The girl stared up at the white-haired witch, she vaguely recalled the sound of screams telling her to stay away, but there were none. Her small hand with her brightly colored nails reached into the skeletal palm that was offered to her. And then they'd walk, walk passed the end of the cave, deeper into some unknown place. Each night the journey through the cave would became longer, more twists and turns, more confusing light-less paths to follow. The air, it grew thicker, and colder, so cold the little girl became, her skin shivered and turned the fainted shade of blue. The colder it grew the rougher the surface of the once smooth ground became, making her stumble, her small feet catching on the jagged edges of the black rock, cutting her, forcing tears to her eyes.

The little girl never said a word, she never had to for she was answered as the old woman started laughing, a cold, cruel cackle, an acidic sound to the little girl's ear. The laughter one grew the more the little girl struggled to pull away from the woman, her voice – no voice to be heard, any scream swallowed by the thick of the blackness. Wet tears rolled down her face and she closed her eyes and trying to wake, but there was only darkness to be seen.