(Complete)
(Really old work, will contain inconsistencies and errors)
(Work Dated: April 2018)
An old factory stands tall and alone in a barren field. A sprawling family manor was recently renovated into an international hotel. With its quaint stree...
Affected individuals begin to experience visual, auditory and tactile hallucinations. This often leads to mental stress, depression and aggression.
•°*°•
Firenze? Are...you...there...
Barry?
I'm...s...sor..
What happened to you? Are you okay?
Guilty...
Firenze saw his body fall down like a puppet cut from its strings. The impact sent a shock through his body, and he felt his nerves jolt back into function, responding to the damage with throbbing pain. He rolled on the floor, crying and wincing. The shard had cut deep through his palms, and Ash had managed to fracture his arm during the struggle.
He propped himself up against a wall and rubbed his arm, trying his best to ignore the headache and nausea from the stench that hung in the air. His watery eyes registered the smoking body lying not far away; his vision darkened, and grew hazy, slipping in and out of focus. Staring blankly ahead, he found himself seeing an apparition floating in front of the corpse.
It wasn't clear; he was nevertheless able to see it clad in a torn grey shirt, with a long black scarf draped across its shoulders, covering its head and torso. Sand coloured locks of hair, framing the huge iron collar fixed on its neck, whipped in the wind that wafted in. The rusted shackles and chains on its limbs clanged as they swung back and forth. The soft sound of it sobbing seemed to be coming from a distance.
He whispered,
"Barry, is that you?"
The ghost didn't reply. It had stopped and now cast a mournful gaze at him. Its blue eyes were dull, devoid of energy and its cheeks were hollow. But the face was still recognizable, it retained the rounded sweetness it had when it was alive.
"Barry, please tell me that it wasn't your doing."
...I have to obey my master...
...and...
...I need to go home...
The ghost's blue lips didn't move, but his voice carried the sorrow in which he drowned. Firenze felt his eyes growing heavy yet again, and saw Barry move towards him. His eyelids shut slowly and he felt his breathing slow down. Patterns swirled in the blackness, before dissolving into grey static.
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