Psychosis and Dreams
Morning arrived with a crash. . .literally. A tremendous boom jarred the sleeping guests from their beds. Flinging aside the curtains, the women were dismayed to discover that it was pouring outside. A blinding flash of lightening filled the room, then left it in its previous blackness. The thunder rumbled, fully setting the stage for what could only be described as an eventful day.
Pulling on sweaters and other such warm garments, they all gathered in the hall, wondering why it was so cold. An eerie giggle met their tired ears, and they looked around for the source. Seeing none, they headed as a group to the dining room to get some food in their bellies and a hot drink coursing though their bloodstreams.
Sitting down, they thanked their hellion servers and began to quietly eat. Just as they were beginning to relax and think that the day might not be so bad, Psallie burst into the room.
“Well, hello, hello, hello! I see I’ve caught you stuffing your faces, excellent!”
She flopped down in the head chair and draped her leg over the arm. Swinging it back and forth, she snapped her fingers and a hellion brought her something in a steaming mug. When she lifted the mug to her lips, her long bangs fell aside slightly to reveal large black eyes. She slammed the mug down and shook her head, covering her eyes again.
“So, ya’ll ready to die?”
An odd grin once again covered her face and never seemed to fade. She was obviously getting immense amusement from frightening her guests. Springing to her feet, she stalked over to a cabinet along the wall and flung the doors open, disregarding the loud bang they made when they slammed against the cabinet sides. Two clicks were heard, and she removed a large battle axe from off its hooks. Slinging it over her shoulder, Psallie closed the cabinet and thumped towards the door.
“Come along then! I’ve got some toys to play with, and ya’ll can be the first to take a stab at ‘em!”
Almost against their will, the guests rose from the table and followed Psallie out the door. Grabbing a torch from the sconce on the wall, Psallie pulled a key out of her pocket and approached a heavy wooden door. It was very bland compared to the other doors in the manor, its thick iron hinges were a testament to the doors heft.
Unlocking a dead bolt and padlock on the door, Psallie lifted the bolt and opened the door. It opened with a sobbing groan, revealing a dark stone corridor.
The guests filed in obediently. A resounding thud echoed down the corridor as the massive door was shut and bolted behind them. Walking with a sort of relaxed slouch, Psallie lead the way. A strange wind moaned as they silently pattered down the corridor, the only other sound coming from Psallie’s boots as they dragged against the paving stones.
The corridor suddenly opened into a wide space, pitch black, but open. A terrible shriek met the groups ears, followed by moans and sobs, fading in and out like some kind a of queer lullaby. Psallie’s grin broadened as she pulled a lever on the wall. Rattling chains and a rush of air were the only reaction the action got.
“And let there be light!”
Psallie laughed and flung the torch into the air. It soared like a flaming bird, before vanishing into the blackness. A whimper escaped one of the guests, then a ripple of sound met their ears. Crackling, and a glow of light sprang from above. Looking up, the guests were amazed to see a huge bowl suspended from the ceiling. The fire sprang up and licked at the chains. Walking over too a lever that was on the floor, Psallie kicked the lock, sending the bowl plunging towards the floor. The women screamed while the men shouted and ran to stop the bowls decent. The floor opened up beneath their feet sending one of the gentlemen down into the blackness with the brazier. Laughter filled the upper room, as Psallie sat down, her legs dangling over the edge, and rocked back and forth with merriment.
“You bloody bitch! You’ve killed him!”
The men who had made it to safety flew at her, all prepared to rip her apart. Psallie lept to her feet and swung her axe. It whistled past the face of one gentleman, while the flat of the blade struck the other. He spun and crumpled to the ground, a trickle of blood coming from the side of his head.
“Look before you strike! That is a rule in which you must abide if you wish to live!”
Psallie pointed to the opening in the floor. The guests all looked collectively and saw the fallen gentleman floating back up to their level. The injured man fainted, while the women stifled screams. Four hellions had caught the falling man and were now dragging him back up from the abyss. Panting from their efforts, they dumped him unceremoniousl
y on the pavers.
“Miss Psallie, all precautions are to be made to assure the safety of your guest, so is order of the Queen!”
Psallie pouted, but her grin reappeared quickly.
“Okay, then, I have to take care of ya’ll then. . .Lets go! Slap that little fairy into consciousness, we’ve got a ways to go.”
The guests quickly roused the unconscious Simon and, with glares of anger and disgust, followed Psallie as she tripped along. The room was circular, with where they were standing as the top. As they walked around the perimeter, they discovered it was designed like a spiral, gradually going down. As they walked on, the sounds of pain and insanity grew louder. An immense iron gate met them half way down, above it hung the immortal words of Dante’s Inferno, “All hope abandon. ye who enter here”. A shudder escaped the group, which was met by a giggle from Psallie.
“What’s a matter? Scared by a few words?”
They didn’t even bother to protest, for the truth was, they were frightened by the words. The very atmosphere smelled of death and morbidity. They continued on, toiling down until they could see the bottom, illuminated by several large braziers like the one that had lit their way thus far. The walls in this area were stained with dirt and blood, old chains hung from the walls, their occupants long since vanished. A skinny creature, tied up securely in a straight jacket, ran across the open floor. It paused halfway and looked up at the group, it’s mouth open in a hideous grin. It shrieked at them and ran away laughing, any resemblance to the human form seemed to be a mere coincidence.
“I want to go back! I don’t want to see this!”
Margo sobbed and trembled. She pulled as Psallie’s arm, trying to drag her back up the spiral to leave.
“Leave? Can you not read, oh, fat one? Do you not remember the sign? The only way out is to continue on through ‘till the end!”
Psallie jerked herself free and laughed.
“I do think this trip will be good for you, my dear. It’s about time you saw what you could have in life, maybe then you will be grateful for the trash you have in your life. Riches can only get you so far, but remember, you cannot buy friends.”
A puzzled look crossed Psallie’s face then she laughed again.
“I do say! That was rather Thadia of me, wasn’t it?”
Shouldering her axe once again, she dropped down into the floor below and began to pace. A hellion wandered out from an empty cell, munching on something. Even the hellions down here seemed to have lost their cuteness, replaced instead by a grim resolution. They had their jobs and they knew how to perform them to the upmost efficiency.
The members of Psallie’s group carefully climbed down and stood huddled together, certain that they would never leave this hell hole alive.
“Well, this way folks, don’t pet the animals!”
They slowly walked along a hallway, lined on either sides by cells. Some of the cells had bars, others had steel doors with just a peephole to look in. The creatures that inhabited the cells were of all shapes and sizes. One prisoner was sitting rocking back and forth talking vehemently to a rock that sat on the floor in front of him. Another hung from his ankles, his thin hair brushing the ground. A hellion sat in the room with him, a red-hot iron in his hand. The prisoner would start blaspheming and insulting the Court, and the hellion told him to shut up and that he’d give the prisoner a real reason to cry, and would press the iron to the prisoner’s feet or stomach.
A braver guest stepped up to one of the steel doors and pressed his ear against it. No sound was heard from inside, so he slid the peephole cover back and peered in. A frail, innocent looking girl was sitting in the room, huddled up in a corner.
“What crime has she committed? She’s just a child!”
Psallie’s perpetual grin vanished. She shoved the guest aside and slid the peephole shut. With a flick of her black hair, she turned and quickly walked towards a door.
“That girl is another facet of Tanya. She’s unnamed and unknown, so she stays here until Thadia can find her in the Soul Accounts.”
“So she isn’t tortured?”
“No”
The curtness in which Psallie replied surprised the group. She seemed to revel in pain and torment, so having her so steadfast against hurting this child, shocked the group to its core. Psallie opened the door and stepped aside, allowing the group to enter first. This room was almost as bad as the first, except there were no prisoners here...just the sounds of their existence followed them in.
The walls were hung with various weapons, the axe seeming to be Psallie’s weapon of choice. A lumbering beast slouched into view, it’s ugly face carried a gentle smile.
“Miss Psallie! I thought you had forgotten us down in this here room!”
Psallie batted the air with her hand and laughed.
“I never forget, what kinda toy have you made for me t’day?”
The beast almost blushed with pride as it held out a new axe. The handle was straight as an arrow with fine turnings on the end. The head was crafted from the finest silver, and was etched with what appeared to be a battle scene. Psallie dropped the axe she was carrying and reached for the new one.
“Gimme something to cut!”
A burly prisoner was thrust into the room, his nostrils flared with beserker rage. A sword was tossed to him, and his hand lashed out, snatching the weapon in mid flight. His bloodshot eyes scoured the room until they landed on the one thing in life he hate more then the Court. . .Psallie. A bellow came from his parched lips as he flung himself towards her, sword raised. A flash of silver, and he fell back, his chest slashed open. Blood flowed freely from the wound, and only sought to enrage the beast even more. He attacked again, more carefully this time, seeking out Psallie’s vunlerable parts. Like a deadly dance they fought, striking out, blocking and striking again. The rhythm of their movements sought to hypnotize the guests, who were watching, mouths agape. Then Psallie got bored. With an expert flick of her wrist, she changed the course of her axe and the blade sank deeply into the neck of her opponent. The arteries cut, he fell, gasping, trying to speak, as the life drained from his body. The silence in the room was deafening, broken by the arrival of the hellions. Most of them went to lifting the dead warrior from the ground and carrying it off, whilst the others stayed behind and began to mop the blood off the walls and the floors.
Swinging the axe around, Psallie’s grin widened and she nodded with satisfaction.
“Lovely little toy! I’ll be sure ya’ll are handsomely rewarded.”
“Thank you Miss Psallie! Ah! But before you go...”
The great beat lumbered out of the room and was heard banging about in his workshop. The guests were having to hold up Margo, who was on the verge of collapse after seeing blood spilt. With a great sigh, the beast reemerged and held out his hand. There, nestled in his massive paw, was a delicate butterfly. Made entirely of brass, it had been burned to give it different shades and colors.
“Oooo! How cool!...What’s it do?”
“I would show you, miss, but I’m afraid my mitts are too big. But if you place your fingers through those little holes there...by its feet...when you clench your fist, the wings unfold into knives!”
Psallie picked up the butterfly and tried it out. A giggle escaped her when the knives showed themselves and then vanished as she clenched and unclenched her hand.
“It’s cool! But...not really my kinda weapon...”
“That is because I made it for the queen. She asked for a disguiseable weapon, because she wants to go to the Court Conventions, but she cannot take her daggers...so I made this.”
“Sweet! She’ll totally like this.”
Psallie nodded and pranced around. She seemed not to notice that just moments before, she had killed someone. After one last spin, she stopped, looked at her guests and gave a dramatic bow.
“I shall spare you the torture room, somehow I don’t think all of you could stomach it.”
She giggled evilly and walked up close to the group. They shrank from her, fearing what she might do. In a dramatic stage whisper, she placed a finger to her lips.
“Shhh! Don’t tell anyone, but I think Margo don’t like the sight of blood!”
Swinging her new axe about, she stalked up to a door. Flinging it open, it revealed a narrow set of stairs.
“Up with you! Yer freedom be at the top. Ya’ll are such party poopers, ya know? Such a bunch of wimps, scared of a little blood. Oh! And give this to Thadia.”
Psallie tossed the butterfly to Simon, who caught it, fearing the consequences if he let it fall. Scuttling across the room and through the door, the guests heaved a sigh of relief, grateful to have escaped the foul, dank underworld of the Mental Ward.
Tiredly climbing the stairs, they reached a tight landing and a door. Twisting the knob, they were dismayed to find that it was locked, in their rush to leave the Ward, they had failed to ask if a key was required for the door. Margo collapsed sobbing, while the rest sat down on the stairs or leaned against the walls. One of the more impatient gentlemen began pounding the door, shouting at the top of his lungs.
“Let us out! Let us out, damnnit! Do you want us to stay here forever?!”
A small click was heard, and the door opened. The man almost fell on top of Thadia, who was standing there, glasses perched on the end of her nose.
“I see you made it out in one piece...Psallie hasn’t traumatized you too badly, I trust?”
“You trust? You bloody TRUST?! That girl’s a maniac! We’re lucky we made it out ALIVE, let alone traumatized!!”
Thadia blinked at the outburst. Motioning the group into the room with a wave of her hand, she shut the door and locked it.
“I did warn you, but perhaps I should have sent a few of my minions down with you so you would have felt more secure. Nothing a nice cup of tea can’t cure.”
She picked up a little bell and gave it a dainty shake. A tall man entered the room and bowed slightly.
“Tea, please, and some aspirin for Margo.”
The man bowed again and slipped out of the room. Thadia sighed and pushed her glasses back up her nose. Sitting down at a small secretary’s desk, she began to sort through files. Simon and another gentleman exchanged glances then Simon spoke up.
“Miss Lelay?”
The glasses almost fell off of Thadia’s face when she heard herself addressed to formally. Composing herself quickly, she looked up and smiled.
“Yes?”
“Miss Lelay, there is a child down there...in the Ward...how can the queen just let a child remain in such a terrible environment?”
Thadia opened her mouth to speak but fell silent as the minion reentered the room. He placed the tea tray down on a small table and placed a small dish next to Margo, on which two white pills were nestled. Pouring the tea, he passed the cups to the guests, then left the room.
“I have found some information on the child...it seems that Tanya inadvertently locked her in there. The child is very trusting, therefore she was locked away.”
“But why?”
“Because Tanya doesn’t trust people, and the child might be a weak link in her armor. So, she’s locked her away...a special room is being built for her, but it isn’t finished yet.”
Margo was groaning dramatically.
“Oh! My head, the pain!”
“Shut up!”
The sharp snap came from the desk, Thadia’s lips curled with disgust.
“You are a terribly pampered woman, and yet you chose to complain about every little pain that enters your life. Have you not heard the phrase, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger”? Get a backbone and grow the hell up!”
Margo went white in the face, then flushed bright red. Standing up, she stammered for a few moments, then turned and left the room. The rest of the guests, weary from their misadventures, rose and followed the disgruntled woman. All but one, a small, mousy man stayed behind. Clasping and unclasping his hands, he slid forward in his chair and added some cream to his tea. Sipping happily, he leaned back in his seat and sighed.
“If you don’t mind my asking sir, why have you remained behind?”
“Because, my dear child, I am sick of them. I’ve been traveling with them for the last few months, and they have done nothing but bicker and argue the entire time.”
Thadia took off her glasses, rubbed her eyes, and smiled.
“So, then, what’s your name?”
“Benderman, Andrew Benderman, at your service.”
“Very good, Mr. Benderman, it will be a pleasure to host the rest of your visit.”
Benderman smiled and bowed his head. There was something about this girl that reminded him of his daughter...the one he was to visit actually. The thought of missing his sweet daughter’s birthday wiped the smile right off of his face.
“I do say, what is it that keeps us here? Why can’t the group and I leave?”
Thadia shrugged.
“I can speak to the queen, she’s the one with the power to keep you here or send you back. Is there a reason you are so urgently wanting to leave? Your daughter’s birthday isn’t for another week.”
Benderman’s eyes nearly popped out of his head at the mention of his daughter.
“How...”
Thadia grinned and motioned to her files.
“Rmember what I said at dinner last night? The Soul Accounts hold all the information of the souls we encounter...the ones we’re interested in, at least.”
“Oh...I remember now...it’s just that, I haven’t seen Becca in quite awhile and I was hopng to get home early...as a surprise, you know?”
With a gracious inlination of her head, Thadia rose and clasped her hands.
“Very well, I’ll speak to the queen. Now, go have good rest, dreams can be so tireing sometimes, don’t you agree?”
Just then, Benderman opened his eyes. The treetops shimmered with the morning sun while a little squirrel ran playfuly from tree to tree. Sitting up, he saw Simon and the rest of the group still sleeping soundly in their bedrolls. A small glimmer caught his eye, and he crawled over to inspect it. A small silver butterfly lie imbedded in the ground, catching the sun’s rays with disco ball effects.
Hearing a snap of a twig, he spun around. Framed in the branches was a young woman. Her eyes barely visible under a heavy leyer of bangs, her lips parted in a grin. She held out her hand for the butterfly. Benderman watched as it trembled, then shook itself free from the earth. Fluttering upwards, it landed on the woman’s hair, clasping the silken strands with its feet. With a giggle and a wave, the woman swung out of the trees and dissipeared into the forest.Still staring at where the woman had been, Benderman heard the others waking up.
Rubbing his eyes and running his fingers through his hair, Simon sat up and shook his head.
“Damn, ya’ll would never believe the dream I had...”
The End
Inner World: Enter If You Dare
Original work by Tanya Alley. Please to not steal or in anyway mess with. Thank You.
Stumble!