You found me at my worst,
healed my wounds
with my little blue rose.
We're stuck on the other side,
the fabricated world
that had caught many eyes.
I can't say that I'm not scared,
but with you I never had to fear.
All them of the nightmarish sights,
I endure them
just to see your pretty little eyes
again.
Little Ib
with her red rose
silent but terrified of this world.
What if I told her that this horror was mine?
What if I told her that these twisted paintings
that chased us were all once mine.
The darkness I keep away from her
has showed itself through every crook and turn.
I took care of little Ib,
saved her from all those headless statues
and mannequins.
Now I watch her sleep
so fretfully,
like she couldn't
dream
anymore.
We met this girl named Mary
who had no one
but the artist who gave birth
to her painting.
She was lifelike,
but she was just a copy-
she couldn't handle what the real world had.
I had to put her out of her misery
by setting fire to her home.
Yes, Ib, I am a killer and the one who created and destroyed her home.
Everything she had, but did not own.
When I met you, I was already walking on fire;
do you remember the Room of the Liars?
They kept trying to fool you
but telling convicing truths.
Forgive me because my creations
have caused a rucus and scared you.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
But I'm fighting for you.
So please don't be scared.
At the end,
can't you see it?
Your home is right there-
can you feel it?
Now go, my dear Ib.
I'll follow you every step.
You jumped through the painting to see your parents,
you held their hands while I watched from my fiction.
I put my hands on the colorful barrier
and sank to my knees is despair.
If you're wondering about Ib: It's an indie horror game that includes an artist's world coming to life. Play it if you dare. If you do decide to play it, you won't regret it.
