Saltwater & Ink

31. The Painting *ab initio*

   Inky couldn't stop thinking about the time they'd spent together in the dark room- she'd never experienced anything like that before. She sat on the floor in the middle of her studio, surrounded by half-empty tubes of paint and various art supplies. The television on the floor across from her played visuals of time-lapse flowers blooming and images of outer space, and the dark ambient drone of the music she was playing lent an ominous atmosphere to the room. The painting she was working on was a large, dark canvas- spiraling colors of black, dark green, ochre, reds and pinks, with splashes of grey. She'd affixed dark red rose petals, feathers, and gold wire threaded through the canvas itself; the whole painting was full of a chaotic yet somehow calming energy.
   She looked over at Thorn, who was asleep on the grey fold out couch-bed hybrid, black hair covering his face. It seemed like it had been so long since either of them had gotten any sleep, and she smiled at him through the glow of the red lightbulbs in the room. It was late, but she had been awake all night- working on this painting for the museum show he'd resumed working on for her. For the most part, it seemed like he'd been able to go back to work with minimal questions asked. He'd been writing more in the black Moleskine, allowing her to read what he had dubbed his 'Murder Poems'. The writing was extremely dark at times, but somehow still beautiful, haunting. So far, since his return, there had been no further signs of the abomination or the Red Void.
   Absently, she added some gold leaf to the edges of her painting, which she thought contrasted nicely with the overall dark tone of the piece. Thorn hadn't seen this painting yet- he had fallen asleep around midnight after they'd returned to her apartment, explaining that he hadn't been able to sleep in the void- and wasn't sure how his mind was even still functional. Inky had given him some of her stash of rarely-used sleeping pills and some lavender tea. She looked over at him again, noticing that this was the first time she'd actually seen him at peace since he'd escaped from the void. Inky added some finishing touches of dripping burgundy ink to the painting, and walked into the kitchen to rinse the paint off of her hands.
   The dark green and red paint residue mixed with the cold water, swirling down the drain, looking like the color of the sea, or bloodstone. She dried her hands, noticing that the red ribbon tied around her left wrist- slightly ink-stained, had a new addition, as she somehow had two ribbons now, one of a slightly brighter shade of red. Thorn must have done this while she'd been asleep, or possibly while they were together in the warehouse sub-basement room after they'd- her face grew hot, again recalling the experience they'd shared together in the dark room- the sensory deprivation chamber, she thought.
   Again she contemplated that he just as easily could have killed her- despite the connection they felt. I used to wish that you would just end my existence- with the evil I've brought into being. The memory of them together in the dark, with his hand around her neck, sent chills across her skin- though the apartment was hot, even at night. The mid-August heat crept in slowly through the room, causing her to open the window. Inky heard Thorn mutter something in his sleep, seeming distressed. She prayed that his unconscious mind was not constantly plagued with thoughts, dreams of the Red Void.
   "Thorn? Are you all right?" she asked quietly, not wishing to disturb him. A sudden cold breeze through the small apartment window caused the shroud to fall away from the sculpture of the abomination, exposing it to the red lights of the room. There was a slight static crackle in the air around her, and Inky quickly covered the sculpture back up. She left her unfinished painting to dry in the heat of the room, hoping to add some metal scrap details to it once the paint had dried. Inky glanced over at Thorn, who appeared to be staring up at the ceiling, features blank and expressionless, like when she'd first met him. "What's wrong?" she asked, concerned that he seemed so unresponsive. No reply. She walked over to him, observing no change in his expression, like he was still asleep- or trapped within a strange unconscious state.
   Sleep paralysis- he's mentioned this happening before... She shook her head, remembering he had warned her that sometimes he could become extremely violent in his sleep, especially if provoked. "Thorn- wake up. You're not in the Red Void anymore. I'm here, you're safe now." Inky held his hand, hoping that he would wake up, snap out of whatever subconscious trap he was currently locked in. Still no response. It gave her the creeps the way he was staring blankly at the ceiling, dark eyes fixated on nothing. Please wake up, she thought, wondering what to do about this situation. Somewhere she remembered reading that you weren't supposed to wake up somebody who was sleepwalking- because they could inadvertently injure themselves or others, but this was like the opposite of sleepwalking- it seemed as if he was frozen, unable to move, which likely was worse.
   She shook him gently, hoping that he would wake up, come back to reality. Inky felt his hand lock around her wrist, though he remained staring into nothingness. She remembered her own nightmares, how she felt trapped- waking up screaming, terrified, covered in cold sweat and feeling more restless and exhausted than she'd been before she'd tried to sleep- yet somehow this was worse. Even though you managed to physically escape the Red Void, it follows you, when you're asleep. I'm scared to wake you up- I don't want you to hurt yourself- or have a mental breakdown. Inky tried to pull her hand away, but Thorn was holding onto her wrist so tightly she thought that if she resisted, she may accidentally injure herself. If he was experiencing sleep paralysis, there was no knowing what might happen- she didn't think that he would consciously hurt her, but in this state, anything could be possible. She looked around the red-lit room in desperation, trying to figure out if there was a way to wake him up without some catastrophic consequences. Her hand was beginning to go numb, and she knew that there would definitely be bruises the next day.
   Again she attempted to wake him from this disturbing state, not liking how his black eyes seemed to look right through her without actually seeing anything. Thorn remained unresponsive, and Inky was beginning to feel truly scared- what if he was trapped somewhere in a dark level of his own mind, the abomination in control, and he was aware- watching from the outside looking in? He'd mentioned that was what it felt like, that he had no control over what happened whenever this occurred. She knew that he would never forgive himself if he hurt her on accident, even if he wasn't in a right frame of mind. He'd compared it to a demonic possession that the victim was still aware of in some form or another- but if she was the one responsible for allowing the so-called demon to reach this reality- how could she not be the one to blame?
   Inky stared at Thorn, the lifeless expression in his eyes unchanging. Even with the horrific acts, the depravities he'd committed consciously, this was somehow more terrifying- the infinite loss of control experienced while in a motionless state of being. This was worse than if the Red Void were to open up right here in her apartment- again, the fear of the unknown was present, a constant pressure in her mind. One of us can never sleep, and one of us is trapped by it... She herself felt trapped in his dark expression, as if the void itself had replaced his mind and was trying to communicate with her. "The abomination is always watching you," Thorn said quietly, voice devoid of emotion- not even anger or spite. Cold chills ran across her skin, and Inky wondered if he truly was possessed by an aspect of the Red Void, the abomination itself. Maybe when you told me that you came back wrong- this is what you meant- I should have listened to you, Thorn... I tried to deny that anything was wrong- either for my own selfish sanity or to try to convince you that you weren't the horrible person you claimed to be. I'm so sorry. I just want you to come back.
   Inky could feel herself starting to panic internally, but forced herself to remain calm. After everything that they'd been through, been subjected to by the Red Void- this was no time for a mental collapse. She would just have to wait until Thorn woke up from this comatose state. She sat there quietly on the floor with the room's red light glowing around them, with Thorn's hand still holding her wrist somewhat painfully. Hours later, Inky realized that despite her overall fear of the situation, she'd somehow managed to fall asleep. She woke up, the harsh morning light cutting through the open window, casting a strange pattern of shadows throughout her studio space. Thorn no longer appeared to be in the horrible dissociative sleep phase, and she noticed that once again he seemed to be at rest. He looked pale, tired- and she carefully removed her wrist from his hand, observing that there was indeed a dark bruise circling her skin like a bracelet.
   She stood up, feeling shaky, nerves a jangly mess. Last night was a special kind of hell, she thought, walking into the kitchen area to make a pot of coffee. The painting she'd been working on had dried, and she quietly affixed the metal pieces- a slightly-rusted spiral and a strange-looking sigil that she'd found while hunting for scrap metal and various supplies. Inky drank her coffee in the silence of the room, trying to shake the bad feeling from her mind. She had arranged all of her art pieces together against one wall of the studio, carefully choosing the ones to display at the museum. The art show was in a few days, and she wanted extra time to make preparations. Inky almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder- she turned around, expecting the worst- her paranoia having temporarily taken control. However, it was only Thorn- who despite having been asleep for hours- looked restless, agitated and tired.
   "What happened last night?" he asked, sounding nervous, unlike himself. Inky looked away, unsure how to explain what she'd witnessed. "It was- I think you had sleep paralysis. I'd just never seen it before. You seemed to be trapped, and I couldn't wake you up. I was scared that you were- somehow stuck in the void again, Thorn. I didn't know how to help you." She felt guilty again, unable to help him when he was in pain or distress. So seldomly did he show any outward emotion, it was hard to tell how he actually felt most of the time.
   "I- didn't hurt you, did I? Honestly I don't know what happens. I should be responsible for it, but I'm not exactly- in control of my own mind," Thorn admitted guiltily. Inky held up her wrist, inspecting the dark bruise. "Not really. I mean- this is all I have to show for it, and you seemed to be- in a state of mental pain. Fear. Whatever you call it," she explained. The bruise contrasted sharply with the two red ribbons, the pale skin of her wrist. Thorn looked dismayed, obviously upset that this had occurred in his unconscious state of mind. "Are you okay? I don't remember- I could hear you calling me, like when I was in the void, but I couldn't reach you. It's like being trapped behind a concrete wall, a dark curtain. I could have really hurt you, Inky. Fuck, I hate myself for that- what I'm capable of even without realizing it." He poured a cup of coffee, took a drink, and set it down on the table nearby.
   "I'm fine. I was more worried about you," Inky replied, hiding the bruised wrist behind her back. "I could have broken your wrist- or worse," Thorn answered darkly, staring across the room at the shrouded abomination. Inky sighed, not wanting to argue. "I finished my last painting for the series, if you'd like to see it," she said, changing the subject. The last thing she wanted was for Thorn to blame himself for something that was beyond his control, no matter what he tried to say to convince her otherwise. "Of course I would. I know that you've been working on your art for the exhibition. I told the director that you'd have everything ready in a few days- they're all really excited to see your work." He picked up the coffee cup again, looking intently at Inky. She averted her eyes shyly, even after all this time, the way he looked at her made her feel awkward, uncomfortably alive. Especially considering the things they'd done together- her face felt hot, and she wondered why she still felt so nervous, even after everything.
   "Don't be embarrassed, Inky. I wouldn't be so self-conscious if I were you. The ones who didn't appreciate your art are- mostly gone now, anyway. Trust me- they said the same thing about my paintings- my work being 'too dark'. At least your art- makes me actually feel something. When we first met, that's how I knew, that I wasn't alone in the void." Thorn reached out to hold her hand, again looking concerned at the dark bruise. "I'm going outside to smoke," Inky said quietly, "it's all there along the wall if you want to look." She held his hand in silence for a moment, then left the apartment, a strange nervous excitement in her mind. Walking down the steps, she lit a cigarette, watching the grey smoke curling lazily in the sunlight. She wasn't exactly afraid of what Thorn would think of her artwork- just that it was eerily similar to his own, even before they had even met.
   Of course- we are the parallels- both sharing our own darkness to suppress the void. What one creates, the other should destroy- not display for the world to see. I know how we can stop the abomination- I just hope that it works this time, she thought. Inky finished the cigarette in silence, flicking the ash defiantly at a hornet that had dared to venture too close. She slowly ascended the stairs back to the apartment, trying to calm her restless mind. Her thoughts were racing, she wasn't sure what this feeling was, exactly. It wasn't hesitation, apprehension- no, she'd gone beyond that at this point. Maybe- it was that she was actually motivated, excited to show her work after being ignored and rejected for so long. Perhaps it was the new knowledge of how to suppress the abomination- which she would wait to discuss with Thorn after her art show.
In the meantime, she would patiently wait the few days it would take to set up, now that her painting was complete.
   Inky felt a strange calm settle over her, the feeling that in fact, making art truly was an exorcism of sorts. She knew that out of anyone she'd met, Thorn felt the same way- especially since he'd used his own blood as a medium in his destructive creations. She opened the metal door, her mind at ease for once in a long while. Thorn was inspecting her art with a calm, introspective expression on his face. When he looked at the last piece, her latest creation, he turned to regard her with a strange look in his eyes. "What do you think about it?" she found herself asking him, recalling the first time she'd seen his disturbing vortex-like painting. If that particular painting was the pathway into the void, this was the way back out, the escape. Parallels.
   Thorn smiled slightly at her, seeming somewhat amused to hear his own question repeated back. "It's amazing. All the detail- it's unlike anything that I've ever seen, and yet it's a mirror of my own creation. The one that made you nervous at first. All of your artwork- the world needs to see it. Don't make art that makes others feel more comfortable. Camus always said- Create Dangerously- which I've taken literally, more times than I should probably admit. Your art is real, Inky. The world needs that reality, that particular darkness. Don't ever hide it, don't ever be a watered-down version of yourself. I saw your potential, and that's why it started out as some sick obsession of sorts. Now- I know that what I feel is just as real as the blood I've spilled. You've forced me to feel something, Inky- and I love you for it."
   He stared at her, dark eyes unwavering. Inky tried to process everything he'd just said- more times than not, she had no response- especially after everything he'd done for her- helping keep the abomination away, always being supportive of her art, admitting painful truths...It didn't matter what dark transgressions had taken place previously, she knew that even with the Red Void out of the picture, they would remain inseparable, both broken, lost in the darkness, but repaired metaphorically with gold- 'Kintsugi' - as long as they were together, facing the demons of each other's minds. She stared back at him, grey eyes filled with understanding and the silent knowledge of their shared trauma, feelings that could never be erased.
   "I've found out a way to keep the abomination away from us, without having to hurt anyone- I'll tell you after the art show," Inky said quickly, hoping that her plan would work this time. If they succeeded in trapping the abomination, the Red Void would no longer be of any concern to them, perhaps they could possibly have a normal life together? Of course there would always be the history of various anxieties, however the feeling of relief at a chance to be free of the void- Inky never thought that this could be a possibility. She and Thorn stood there in silence together, staring at the paintings and sculptures she'd lined up against the wall of the studio. "I'm still a little nervous for the exhibit," she admitted quietly, looking down at the floor. "Don't be- the museum people are much better than those pretentious bastards at the Gallery. You'll do just fine. Hell, we'll go out for a drink or something first, and it's not for a few days anyway," Thorn replied. "Let's go for a walk or something- I want to go down to the beach," she said, still feeling slightly anxious.
   They left her apartment, walking in the direction of the shipyard, past the rope barriers and down the path to the sand. The last time we were here together, I was running away from you, Inky thought to herself. I will never run away from you again. She held his hand as they walked out across the empty beach, the crashing of the waves calming her restless mind, and she started to feel at peace again. The sun made the sand appear to glitter, and a slight breeze ruffled her messy, dark hair. "This is one of my favorite places to go," she told him, stopping to stare out across the vast, dark seascape. The air around them was scented with salt and small white beach flowers, and being in the presence of the vast abyss felt almost purifying.
   "It's a lot different than it is at night," Thorn answered, looking out across the beach. Inky nodded in agreement, feeling almost amused when she saw the driftwood fort that she'd hidden from him in that first night they'd met. "I'm sorry that I ran away from you at first," Inky said softly. He looked at her, black eyes shining in the sunlight. "I'm sorry that I chased you. I didn't ever mean to make you feel uncomfortable," Thorn answered awkwardly, hands in his pockets. "I'm glad that you did," she replied, which was the truth. If they'd never met that night in the Artist's Loft- who knows what horrors may have transpired afterwards. They stood in silent contemplation together under the bright, cloudless sky, both feeling a sense of calm wash over them.