VENGEANCE

"Some scars don't hurt. Some scars are numb. Some scars rid of you the capacity to feel anything ever again."- Joyce RachelleI ran.My breaths came out in harsh pants, my lungs burned in protest, my body shivered as slow yet sharp staccato of pains shot throughout my body. The pain was numbing, yet it still felt like thousands of needles were being embedded into my skin again and again.My skin broke out in cold sweat, both from the nausea from days of hunger and the adrenaline rush. The dreary cold winter night didn't calm me down.Not even a little bit.In fact, it worsened the pain I was feeling."Stop her!" A voice barked from the chasm of nothingness.No!I tried to increase my speed. I was already running with all the might I had, but still I tried.I didn't want to go back to them.They hurt me.My body protested, my feet wanted to stop. But I couldn't stop.I knew, if I stopped, that man would kill me.I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry. But I couldn't.Because if I did they

"He lives down in a ribcage in the dry leaves of a heart"- Thomas Harris, Silence of the Lambs. Marienne's POV: Blur. Everything seemed like a blur. A pretense. A haphazard of a kaleidoscope. Everything felt as if it was there, but in reality it wasn't. Everything was false, but seemed true at the same time. I ran my hand through my damp hair as I studied myself in the mirror. A tired pair of turquoise eyes stared back at me through the mirror, my jet back hair was damp. Inwardly, I ran my fingers through my stubbles that I had forgotten to get rid of. I had demons. Those demons provoked me in a silent whisper. The demons of my past, my traumas and scars. The demons of my present- my PPD. I had voices, I had hallucinations. I could feel things that weren't there, but, I was happy. Those demons were a part of me, they made me feel more in control. They taunted me, for them being right every time and me being wrong every time. They urged me to control, to possess. They were

"Nobody owns life, but anyone who can pick up a frying pan owns death."― William S. BurroughsMariennne's POV:Letting myself in the dark room, I closed the door with a loud sigh, my head throbbing as I tried to take deeper breath, voices roaring in my head.These days, the voices seemed to become more prominent, more loud.Coiling in my mind, putting on a freak show.I licked my lips.... I enjoyed the taste of my crazy.They echoed throughout my mind, trying to rule me, break me, until I gave in completely.I could hear them acuter than before, louder than before. They commanded me to do things that I shouldn't do, but I just cannot let go of them.They have been with me since my existence.Groaning loudly, I took off my suit and the tie, throwing it somewhere in the room.The clothing articles landed somewhere in the dark nothingness of the room with a loud thud, and then the room became silent again.Silence.Comforting yet painful silence.I sat myself down on the bed and raked m

"Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead,"- Benjamin Franklin.Rose's POV:I was back in the beautiful pathway that led to Victor manor.A manor that screamed of darkness.The roads seemed dull, yet strangely alive, as if, it was talking to me. The murmur of the dry leaves at the beginning of the winter and the hum of the gentle breeze played like a monotonous music in my ears.I just stood there, in the secluded road, all alone as the autumn breeze caressed me gently, reaching deep into my soul.I felt like a diaspora, standing there in the strange, dark valley.Suddenly, all the colours that was in the background and melted together in a bland combination. Everything swirled as I stood there, trembling.Something bad was going to happen, I knew it.The colours that melted together, suddenly, started separating, creating a vague form of shades.Red. Black. Brown. Scarlett.It was like witnessing a mighty artwork unfold in front of me. Shades of red, brown and black diademed th