Cycles [A Charlie & Elizabeth AU]

Chapter 8- Wrong

 Charlie let out a large yawn as she opened the door to her old bedroom. All her bags and trinkets were scattered haphazardly around the room, but she simply shrugged at it and added it to the list of things to take care of in the morning. Sparky clacked it's paws on the ground as it hopped onto one of her bags, claiming it as it's resting place for the night. She sighed, changed into her nightclothes, and plopped herself down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.

She regulated her breathing, watching the room slowly turn to black as her eyelids slowly opened and closed, waiting to be carried off by sleep.

...

Something is wrong.

...

Just as she had closed her eyes, a voice in the back of her mind shouted at her. She tried to ignore it, twisting and turning beneath the cold blankets that began to feel more and more heavy on her chest.

Suddenly she felt hot, and she ripped a blanket off her, discarding it to the floor with impulsive force. Sparky raised it's head.

She mumbled some apology to the robot dog, and laid back down, shifting around the pillows under her head.

But her eyes wouldn't close.

She made eye contact with a little robotic toy resting on a shelf. A purple rabbit with red eyes. With hitched breath, she remembered the day her father had made it for her. She remembered tearing it out of a small box, holding it in her arms tightly, like she would never let it go from her arms for days afterwards.

How easily she had forgotten about it.

She turned over again, but this time her eyes landed on an indent in the wall leading to the closet.

Ella.

If she pressed a button on her bedside table, Ella, an old doll her father had modified for her, built to carry snacks from a small compartment in the stairs all the way up to her bedroom. Half of her exhausted brain wondered what would happen if she pressed it, but she turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling again. She shut her eyes tight.

Something is wrong.

Suddenly, she was 10 again. Under the covers of her bed, reading a yellow-paged book holding a flashlight over her shoulder. The room was quiet, tranquil, still. Almost too quiet. Something was wrong. Even from her upstairs bedroom, she could hear heavy footsteps moving groggily from the basement to what she guessed was her father's study. There was more silence.

Shutting closed her book, she grabbed Theodore, her best friend, and crept out of her bed, tiptoeing to her door, careful not to make a noise.

She peered out her doorway down the hallway, slowly pushing the door open with her hand. Cringing when the door made a loud creak, but not hearing any response from her father downstairs, she ran on her tiptoes, and climbed down the stairs while pushing all her weight onto the old banister.

Trying to muffle her breath as she went down the steps, she heard a light mumbling coming from a distant room and her breath hitched. Slowly she followed the sound, her feet tapping on the wooden floor, and saw golden light emerging from her father's study. She stopped, hesitant, and clutching Theodore closer to her, staring at the doorway that was wide open.

"...It is our job to end all of this..."

Charlie stiffened her grasp around Theodore, moving her head so she could hear better.

"...It was never supposed to happen like this..."

What? She wondered, what was her father doing this late at night, talking to himself?

"...I truly hope you've changed, old friend..."

Charlie peeked her head around the corner, flinching when the light hit her eyes, but she stumbled when she took in the scene in front of her.

Her father stood hunched over his desk, still ranting on about something Charlie couldn't hear; holding down the button on some type of machine- it was a kind of cassette if she guessed. She tuned back into her dad's monologue.

"This ends. Now. End of communication."

He said those words with such conviction, slamming his hands down on the desk. He looked around, rubbing his face with his hand before he turned back to his desk and began to shake, taking heavy breaths. It took a few moments to realise that her father was... crying?

She had never seen him cry before, not for her mother, or her brother-

Charlie dropped Theodore.

Her father whipped his head around, eyes bloodshot red-

Her eyes shot open. Theodore stared back at her from the shelf, but his smile didn't quite look the same. It looked sinister, like it was taunting her. He was judging her. Charlie stumbled back in her bed, trying to find a lamp, or light or-

Her hand landed on a button, and a clicking noise began almost immediately. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched the closet doors swing open, and two doll eyes shone brightly in the darkened room, striking even more panic into the girl as the doll rode forward on her track, heading towards Charlie's face at an alarming speed. Charlie couldn't suppress the urge to scream, which prompted Sparky to jump up and begin barking. The whole room felt like it was watching her, judging her, like it was about to swallow her whole. Her lungs were begging for air, but it felt like her ribs had been replaced by a metal cage. Imaginary hands grabbed for her limbs as Charlie moved around her bed, trying to untangle herself from her bed sheets. Scrambling, she fell out of the bed and picked up Sparky, her cellphone, and ran out of the room, trying to blink away the tears in her eyes.

She stopped dead still in the main room, focusing on nothing but her breathing. Sparky nudged her ankles, but she didn't have the energy to kneel down and pick it up.

"I can't stay here," she thought out loud, her voice raspy. Her arms were visibly shaking but as she was at a loss at what to do, she dialled a number on her cell phone.

After a few seconds, Elizabeth picked up.

"...Hello? Charlie?"

"...I... Can I come over...?"