𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐃 │ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍 ¹ [✔]

een.

CHAPTER ONE.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀strangers
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⠀The way she worked was organised. Precise. A meticulous pattern of righting her own mistakes and the demise of those inevitable things made. A tight squeeze between the hands clasping over her every decision. She carried on with everything she was humiliated to do because every mistake was a darkening bruise.

⠀She didn't think this was living. Barely breathing. This was inhaling through the poison, only to exhale all on her own hopefully. No hurt.

⠀She had never wanted to dance for men's pleasure, to display her body like the well-carved statue they all thought she was. Curb the appetite to shield her body, hide her legs, protect her eyes from their shadowed and hungry stares.

⠀Watch from a higher place as they brought her down to a sickeningly objective level.

⠀She let small, moon-shaped indents in her palms be the only source of outright objection. As she stored those childlike hopes in the smallest part of her body that still belonged to her. The woman imagined this to be somewhere in her abdomen. The perfect distance between her back and the skin of her stomach.

⠀She was scared of how these dreams made her feel sick. And of how every step she took was to prevent minor, major, or severe harm. A bright, alert mind, covered in a thick sheet of paranoia.

⠀And whenever she would step one foot closer to those things, she'd scutter backwards twice that distance into the dark. She would much rather walk amongst blackness, where all the gloom did hold. It was a grasp that never swept her away. Never tripped, pushed, or hurt her.

⠀It let her hold her cards to her chest, and never expected bluff.

⠀All these meticulous decisions she had made about who she was, and how she was going to live her life, was the exact reason why — right now — she was stood in a cold bathroom with the lights out.

⠀Raising a hand to her curled lashes, she picked at the mascara slowly crumbling onto her cheeks. Leaning her back against the stall she stood in, shd started to inspect her muscles for any sign of lingering pain slowly.

⠀Her right thigh, the space between her left ear and hairline, sternum, and the base of her neck. The meer pressure of her small fingers let her know what colour those spots were. Under harsh light, everyone could see what the thick concealer tried to hide.

⠀After finding those spaces of aberrations, she swallowed thickly, before exiting the cubicle. Tiptoeing, in her ample heels towards the light switch. But when she pulled on the string, it only broke off in her hand, and the girl was only met with a small flash of the light.

⠀Sighing, she reached out to her bag on the counter, rummaging through it and switching out her shoes for one that was more accommodating, feeling around for her things, making the best guesses at what she was holding.

⠀The dress she was wearing clung to her ribs and pushed up her chest. Without finding the things she needed, she was left only to wrap herself in a thin raincoat. The girl already felt the night air creeping up her bare legs.

⠀And it became chillingly apparent as she pushed the fire exit bar out into the alleyway behind her workplace. Dim streetlights were hitting her pupils, combatting against the shadow of midnight.

⠀No sound but the steady breeze, and haunting laughs of men echoing from around the corner. She gathered that they had assembled at the front of the club like they did every night. Threatening for their entrance, and filling their minds with toxicity — way more than what was already there.

⠀She shivered, watching red and blue lights flicker past the buildings. Everything around her was a wolf with bared teeth.

⠀The calming was not familiar.

⠀With each step being fulfilled, the next one took her through the gateway of trees, as she treads over the twigs and dirt of a slightly unfamiliar path. The scenery engulfed her figure, and her heart seemed to calm under the moonlight.

⠀It shone through the trees and displayed broken spotlights, a silver brick road, leading her a new way home.

⠀Soon, it was all that surrounded her. Heartbeat rising at every slight movement in the trees, as they lunged towards her. Grabbing, tickling her arms. The beats that thumped in her ears were her compass.

⠀That was until the figure appeared. Only standing, leaning in towards the current of the sky. She stopped in her tracks at this image, unsure of which way this person was facing. Even so, she didn't have the guts to look back to where she had just been, fearful that this was a scheme, and this person was not alone.

⠀Their breaths carried over towards the girl, filling their space with the odour of rotting flesh. It smelled her. The perfume on the hottest parts of her skin, that fading scent of vanilla, and the slight fireside smell of her red hair.

⠀The promise of her taste propelled its body forward, and it got close before her survival instinct kicked in, and she pushed herself backwards and away from this stranger.

⠀She had no inkling of its intentions, or even that there was something severely wrong with this human — that they were no longer human.

⠀She didn't need any idea other than to flee, and she cried out for it to stop and leave her alone. She asked them, please.

⠀It never answered, stumbling, searching for the blood in her veins as it pumped ferociously through them. The girl could only wonder, with no view of their face, she was left in the dark.

⠀It came so close, and she held in a breath. The darkness had dealt its cards, and it was practically advertising its hand. No bluff. No winning play, but it was her action. The darkness was blinding her.

⠀She reached her arms upwards to the figure, ready to defend herself as it backed her up to a tree stump. The only option she had was to climb over it, scraping her naked legs and catching the edges of her once beautiful dress on the swallowing forestry as she made haste for a better path.

⠀This was the utmost terrifying moment when she was too afraid to turn her back. Her last thought of home became the backlight in her mind, dimming as she ran further away from it. No longer thinking of any other escape other than the way in front of her.

⠀Forwards only.

⠀Eventually, she stopped, listening out for that figure's movement, wondering if it followed her all the way here. Still too scared to turn back, she used all her other senses to the best of her ability.

⠀But they were coming. She could hear it. She could feel them crawling up the hill towards her. As if they rummaged through her hair, walking under her scalp and sending waves of nausea down her spine.

⠀She knew, this time, she would have to break apart from the choices she made about who she was, and how she leads her life. It was a small, and easy decision, but those meant bruises or peace to her.

⠀Whatever those things were didn't matter to her. All she knew about them, was that they would walk, and they would take her, and the rest was a paranoid imagination. Whatever amount of a human silhouette they portrayed wouldn't change her mind right then.

⠀The girl wrapped her fabrics tighter to her body, rushing her feet along the ground. Wanting nothing more than the soil beneath her sneakers to grab upwards and swallow her whole.

⠀Venturing closer, and closer to any faraway thing, her refuge displayed itself as a light. And as she found it, she forcefully willed her body to pump the adrenaline faster, to make every step one with dire purpose.

⠀Hauling herself up the last, small hill, she grasped the foliage under her, digging deep into the dirt, and finding purchase on higher ground.

⠀She still dared not look back. This was made sure when she finally felt the warm trickle of a tear slide its way down her face. The light was now becoming blurred, as she keened for something to help her. Something to tell her why this was happening, and why she was so comfortable with making her way to this light.

⠀She only then saw the outline of a small building; a little shack propped between the trees. It was seemingly hidden away, not to be found by anyone — but she had. She paid no attention to the bones, to the derelict cars, to the boarded-up windows. Only to the light... dauntingly flickering as if it was daring her to move faster.

⠀The girl choked on her lamentations, wolfing them down like she was used to doing and finally... finally getting to the front door.

⠀She quickly grabbed the handle and turned it, but waited there for a moment. She wasn't going to look back, not ever, but listened out once more for anything.

⠀She urged the child in herself to be beaten down and to look over her shoulder. To reassure herself that this was just a small occurrence and that this wasn't the only option for her night. She could go home, and this was only a horrible story.

⠀This was, indeed, a strange and coincidental finding. Somehow she had managed to escape those beasts and find safety. Surely, this must not have been real.

⠀The only thing that pushed her into reality at that moment was choir-like snarls, licking her ankles.

⠀She pushed the door open, and then she pushed the door closed.

⠀She felt as if they were still with her, crawling along the ground, even amongst her skin. She feverishly scratched at her cold arms. And it wasn't until there was a stark contrast in her environment, she could taste the tears in her mouth.

⠀And then they came for her, thumping against the door. She moved quickly to lock it, and move a stray chair in front it, barring herself in.

⠀The deafening sounds sent shockwaves through her stomach. She couldn't say a single hopeful thing to herself. Different sayings would usually propel themselves through her throat in small whispers. Except they only sent harrowing wails to project under the surface of her skull — like little cries for help that never got a voice.

⠀And they brought more numbers with them, crowding towards her only escape. And there was no way to view the outside, but she tried to claw at the edges of the windows, trying to find some way to see precisely what situation she was in.

⠀Not knowing what the hell was going on, she felt the deserving emotion. As if it was her time. Struck deeply like a knife in her core, a bleak recital of all she did to get here. Some sort of song, a melody to sing her life to sleep.

⠀This, she thought, was the coda and timely demise.

⠀Here it comes, there I go, this is what is meant to happen.
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