Strawberry Panic {TomTord}

House of memories

"Nononono-," Squeezing himself against the crumbling plaster, Tom folded his knees close to his chest, breath wheezing from the roaring panic seizing at his heart. Manically shaking his head in denial, he braced himself, open palm slapping against the wall as his expression morphed into horror, "This doesn't- no- I don't wanna be back-"

A long, high-pitched whine crawled pathetically out of his throat, murky black eyes turning a glossy hue as tears started to well up, seeping out from the corners; sluggishly warm and tumbling. Facial expression pinching, his lips curled back, trembling slightly as a sob clenched at his core- brain overwashed and clogged tight with childlike hopelessness. Tremors racked his body, shoulders jerking sporadically; equal parts dread and deplore.

Home.

Vision blurry, he took in the shambling sights of the misshapen wood, the bowing shape of the neverending corridor- age weighing down the centre and creating a massive dip within the floor. Peppered patches of moss and algae lay scattered about, products of the damp that leaked through the faded paint. Thick black scuff marks lined the walls, irregular and wobbly, faded marks of his past life's misdeeds- the scratches from a flailing, screaming body, discoloured red streaks that refused to fully clean away, and the dent from when his father had grasped the back of his head and-and-

Each one; picture perfect and as fresh as the memories that they brought up.

Home.

Back home.

Back. Back-backb̢̝̻͆̔̊ͦͩá̛̙̹͓̥̦ͨ̅̉͊̅c͇͍͍̙͙̩͢k̙̺̜̺͒ͤ̚ͅ.̬̳́ͧ̇ ̡͇̯͚̞̱ͩ̑

Clenching his lids closed, Tom clawed his trembling hands over his face, nails nicking and stretching the skin awkwardly. Perhaps, if he scrambled hard enough, it would be enough to purge the reminder from his sockets.

"Again, bold of you to assume that you have a c̸̹͇͈͙͕͗̑ͫ͌̒̚h̬̮̪̦͆ͯ̈ͤͪͣ̚͟o̝͇̎̓͋i͓̅̽͗̎̒cͣ̐͏̦̱̭͍͕e̳͙̺̟̒," Came the snide petty retort, the words growled harshly, sounding almost wet in nature.

Body rigid, Tom coiled his posture tighter, the voice of the beast putting him even further on edge. Swallowing hard, the knot of hysteria shifted up his throat, circling close and pulling firm, choking him from the inside out.

An accessory of his murder-

"It's accurate that you're showing me what my problem is, and the only thing here is you." Being vaguely aware of his own harsh breathing, Tom smacked his lips dryly, his voice coming out significantly less confident than what he would prefer, "We stan a self-aware bitch."

"Brave words for the ma͝nͪ̉͆ͩ̋̆ that refuses to look at me." It monotoned, the sound of shoes rhythmically clicking closer; a dare, a threat, "Brave words for the man that refuses to take notice, to li̴͖s̩̞̗̞̣ͅt̘̠ͅe̸͇̰̫͉̣̳n̵̥̮̜̼̜̺̖."

A whimper was barely suppressed, teeth sinking deep within the spongey, sensitive flesh of his tongue, face angling away in subconscious shame as he grimaced sharply. Fluttering his lids, he hesitantly peered up from behind his lashes, muscles twitching from the clouds of doubt and fear that lingered.

"Oh, fuck me-"

Unthinkingly, his mouth gaped open, almost choking on his own saliva.

Half of the creature's face had collapsed in on itself, the empty eye socket smashed inwards, revealing a hollow, almost porcelain-like quality to its skull. Fractures spiralled off against the flesh, branching outwards with long, demented fingers as it curved around the softness of its jaw, and hairline. An ominous black abyss lay behind the bleached white skin, only highlighted by a single, glowing pupil.