11 Aug 2023, 21:15
Do Not Hide
Mikael blinked slowly, his eyes straining to look up at the dark ceiling. The wind wailed loudly outside, whipping aggressively against the walls, as the storm raged onward. Creaking and groaning filled his ears. A familiar sound that had been slowly growing worse over the years. Mikael’s eyes dipped downward as sleep slowly ate at him. He was tired. That much he knew, but something was keeping him awake. At least that was what it felt like. The boy’s brows furrowed slightly as he tossed from his side to his back. He was not sure how much time had passed. Or when he had actually managed to fall asleep. The world was no more until it suddenly was.
The boy lay prone upon the bed, the room eerily quiet. Sweat rolled down his forehead moving to join the sweat-ridden sheets below his form. Mikael was not too sure what had awoken him from his sleep. It did not appear to be storming outside anymore. Maybe there was still some residual thunder? The boy looked up slightly towards the curtain-less window, moonlight shining through the dew covered glass. Mikael paused slightly, brows furrowing. It took him far too long to realize it was not dew. The moonlight lit up the pelting rain that slapped into his window. Trying to force its way inside.
Mikael found himself at a loss for words as he stared up at the sight. A soft fluttering sound filled the quiet air, bringing his gaze back downward. The being had an indescribable look upon his face. A world of knowledge hidden behind a blanketed face. Nothing was forward, but everything was present. Shouldn’t he feel breathe upon his face? Mikael blinked slowly looking at the beings chest. The rise and fall that should have been occurring was not present. Only showing him how unlike the two of them were. Mikael harshly swallowed as acid creeped up to the back of his throat. The boy opened his mouth slightly to speak. ‘Do not speak.’ The being finally spoke, shocking him into silence. Seeming so much louder in the quiet room. An audible click sounded out as he closed his jaws shut quickly. His eyes wide and searching up into the empty eyes before him. The vast nothingness that drew him in. Making him feel small. Insignificant in the grand scheme of the universe held up in front of him.
The being slowly moved, the picture perfect model of control, as it maneuvered itself into a more upright position staring down at his prone form below. "Amidst the tapestry of this existence, How am I to discern the manner of your allegiance?” the disembodied voice spoke with little care. As if he was nothing more than a wayward sheep. He already knew what the being was alluding to. Yefim…his Yefim. He knew eventually the being would grow weary of their deep relationship. Had he been the one to send him away? The thought stung his heart, and he did his best to focus on the being in front of him. The being’s lips remained closed as it stared down at him with empty eyes.
‘I have woven your narrative with my bare hands, a destiny that will unveil like constellations in the endless sky. Your path is unraveling, and yet you are blind.’ Mikael heaved in each breath as if it were his last, his cheeks stained wet. It took him a long time to realize that he was crying silent tears. He wanted to cry out, and yet he found himself unable to. The being did not want him to speak, and therefore he could not speak. The understanding of that terrified him greatly. ‘To possess such a reservoir of knowledge, and yet you are confined by fleeting recollections. A paradox that is woven into your very being.’ A hint of a smirk pulled across the being’s face. The only betrayal that it might feel too. How hilarious this situation really was. The pity he received for a situation that was completely controlled by the one providing him such sympathy. He hated how much it hurt.
‘Can you hear them? The forgotten whispers?’
Mikael gasped loudly trying to twist his body free from the being’s control. Though, much to his dismay, he was unable to move an inch. His eyes were wide and wild. Spooked like a horse when a predator nears its resting place. He wanted to run to scream in the face of the dark maw before him. "Speak, your intentions beckons across the veil of this reality.’ the being said, a weight lifting from his chest. Leaving an emptiness in his chest that did nothing to ease his panic. A scream ripped through his lips, his head lashing backwards to stare up at the ceiling. ‘Hush young one.’ came the soft reply to the raw pain that pulled him back and forth. As quickly as his ability to speak had come it was just as crudely taken away. Staring up at the being he was unable to discern if it was angry at him. ‘Can you hear? Can you see?’ Mikael looked back towards the being gurgling out an indescribable answer. Blue eyes staring into the abyss before him. He felt himself falling forward. Slowly being swallowed whole. A part of him could not help but feel a dull panic throb below the surface of a calm demeanor. And yet, he could not bring it within himself to fight anymore.‘Go forth. Do not hide.’
The boy blinked slowly, his gaze furrowing as he realized he was kneeling on the ground. Sharp pain boiled through him from his position. Clasping his hands together tighter to try and avoid moving around too much. He was not too sure why, but a part of him knew if he moved he would get in trouble. The boy stared down at his hands looking at the white fabric that lay loosely over his thin frame. Everything felt foggy, so unreal.
Uncertainty bore through him as he glanced to his left to see a fair-skinned man kneeling next to him. It took him a long moment to realize it was his Father. Looking far more put together then he was used to. No stubble in sight. The long dark-black hair fell over the man’s bowed head. Obscuring his face from his curious eyes. He wondered if his Father could feel his eyes upon him. Was the other simply choosing to ignore him? Mikael’s gaze slowly moved back towards his clasped hands. A frown fell across his lips as he did his best to close his eyes shut. Though, he soon found boredom creeping through him like a viral infection. A click filled the air causing him to jump slightly. His gaze looked towards his Father, wondering if the other had heard it. His Father remained in the same position as when he had last looked over at him. Like a statue made of stone. No movement in sight. A click sounded to his right making him quickly look over his shoulder as discreetly as possible. Once again the reason for his caution evaded him. All he knew was he needed to be careful. Something bad would happen if he did not.
Acid bubbled up in the back of his throat as he took in the sight of Yefim kneeling in a similar position to him. “Yefim what is going on?” he asked quietly. Trying to garner the boy’s attention. Yefim did not appear to hear him. The clicking continued to grow in tempo and sound. Until each click reverberated through the forefront of his mind. Mikael’s eyes scrunched up, each click feeling like someone was poking his brain with their finger. “Yef- I’m scared.” he whimpered out in a voice far too young to be his. Mikael looked back towards his father before glancing back towards Yefim. The boy blinked in confusion to see a stranger in his place. A final click echoed the oddly quiet room.
“Yef-.” he whispered out before his voice was quickly muted out by the sound of bells ringing in front of him. Mikael quickly looked up before letting out a terrified scream from deep in his chest. His vocal cords stinging and stretching from the effort. Yefim’s corpse hung on the cross in front of him. Head bowed in a mock sense of acceptance. As if he would ever want this. “YEFIM!” the boy screamed trying to stand only to be held down. His arms were pulled behind him, rendering them useless. Glancing around wildly the boy struggled to pull himself free. Why was everyone smiling? Mikael looked between his Father and the woman. “Oh god..oh god.” he chanted wildly, his eyes wide. Everyone was watching him. Staring down at him. The stench of fear clung tightly to him. Looking around at the faceless crowd about him. “NO!” he cried out trying to tug himself free from the iron grip keeping him on his knees. Mikael leaned forward as nausea overcame him. “Let me go! Yefim, no!” His gaze falling on an unrecognizable pair of shoes far too close for comfort. Mikael looked up, twitching slightly as he took in the sight of a tall man before him. Mikael could not place the face before him. All he knew was there was a dangerous man in front of him. A powerful man. Sweat dripped down his face, his mouth slightly open as his stomach flip flopped around. “No…” he whined out. The man's face was overshadowed by the large grin he wore. Wider than he ever thought possible. Pearly white and no lips. So fake.
'Mikael, I've heard so much about you.'
Mikael launched forward to the side of the bed as he heaved up his dinner. The sound of liquid hitting the wooden floor brought him out of his stupor. Realizing he had just thrown up all over the ground. His clothes clung to his skin. Sweat dripped down the small of his back. The boy scrambled up into a standing position. Fighting for his freedom from the sweat-soaked blanket that clung to him. Mikael threw open the door to his room, stumbling towards the bathroom with little grace.
The boy groaned in the darkness as he turned the tap on. Trying to scrub away at the dirty feeling that seemed to cling to him like a veil. Pausing his frantic scrubbing he looked up towards the grungy mirror, water dripped down his face. His face was barely visible in the mirror. The only light being the moonlight that streamed in through the window to his left. His eyes were dark, looking sunken in in the low light. Mikael swallowed thickly as he turned to dry his face into a towel. Hiding himself from his reflection.
Exiting the bathroom the boy stood on the landing. Staring blankly at the door to his bedroom. The thought of going back to bed seemed far too much out of the question. Especially with how weird that dream had turned out. Mikael shook his head slightly gripping the handrail as he made his way down the stairs. Not bothering to be quiet as he lit up the wood with creaks and groans. Even if his Father heard him, he doubted the other would come out of his room to inquire why he was up.
The boy stepped off the last step, his hand moving towards a small wicked candle that sat upon an old beaten up table. He was surprised it was still usable as he lit the wick. Warm light filled the darkened hallway. Bathing him in a warm and comforting light. Mikael stared down at the candle with an unreadable look upon his face. Every stray thought fell back towards his dream. It seemed so surreal. The white linen. The church. Yefim. That man.
Mikael’s expression soured, glancing away from the flickering flame in an attempt to distract him. He wasn't too sure what it all meant. This wasn't the first time he had elaborate dreams. He had never been good at distinguishing reality from dream. So easily misconstrued. Was it a nightmare disguised as reality? Or was it reality disguised as a nightmare? Mikael opened the front door sitting down on the porch step. The smell of fresh rainfall stained his senses. Staring out into the back maw from the safety of the warm candle glow. The boy wasn't too sure which option was worse. In truth, it was probably not knowing that felt the worse. 'Can you hear them?' Mikael placed the candlestick down next to him in favor of wrapping his hands around his knees. The being’s words mingled through his head like smoke signals. Tending to the flames growing in his mind. Was this all got a purpose? 'Do not hide.'
Mikael glanced up towards the sky. His brows furrowing slightly. Was he really hiding? He did not feel like he was hiding. Mikaels mind flickered back towards that man. That man's smile felt like an icy dagger through the fuzziness within his mind. He could not recall meeting someone so imposing. So terrifying. Mikael swallowed thickly, the sick feeling returned to his stomach as it flipped and flopped around his body cavity. Mikael looked down towards his knees, a frown pulling at his lips.
The being told him to stop hiding. His face pained as the image of Yefim on the cross came to the surface. Maybe it had all been a dream… last he had checked Yefim did not bore the scars of a crucifixion on his palms. Had the man been a dream as well? His mind went back to the large unnatural smile. It clung to the forefront of his mind. Like a disease. Worming its way through his skull. Digging into vulnerable flesh. Mikael dug his hands into his bangs harshly, pulling them away from his forehead. How sad was it that he could no longer distinguish memories from stories.
The boy stood up slowly, his eyes tired and weary. The being was tired of waiting. Whatever it wanted from him. It wanted it now, and he couldn't help but be nervous about the consequences of his failure. The boy wished that wrapping his arms around him would provide any semblance of comfort. Mikael looked up through hooded eyes. Digging his hands into his sweater. His breathing labored and quick. He needed to clear his head. Despite the cold, his brain still felt so foggy. His gaze drifted towards a small dark shack off to the right of the house. Mikael bent down picking up the candlestick. A frown clear across his face as he moved forward. He remembered how much he had hated the small structure. The stench of copper hanging in the air. Ever present despite his best efforts. The boy placed his hand onto the metal handle. Carefully caressing the ornate design. Clicking the lock downward, he pulled the door towards him. The jangle of the lock quickly alluded to the fact that it was locked. Mikael’s brows furrowed upward as he jiggled the door once more. Locked. The boy stared at the door with a confused look. Mikael slowly looking back towards the old house. His gaze falling onto the window that led to his Father's bedroom. Locked...
Last edited by Percival Rainwood on 28 Feb 2024, 04:56, edited 3 times in total.
PC: Percival Rainwood
9 Feb 2024, 01:16
Do Not Hide
⋅ Inspiration ⋅
Mikael stood in front of the door, lost and dazed, unable to move from the spot that he was so rooted to. His breath formed clouds in the frigid air, pushing through the dense air in short puffs. A frown dipped across his facial features, like a rock that had been flung carelessly into the lake. Ripples of water radiate outward, covering the entirety of its surface. As quickly as the emotion had come so had it left. Mikael's hand remained on the old handle, the cold air making the metal bite into his hand. Numbing his very being beside the dull sharpness of the wintery air of the night.
His gaze looked upward, taking in the frost-bitten ground and old snow that refused to melt away fully. A gust of wind picked up, carding through his hair with bone-chilling fingers. Mikael took a shaky breath in, his jaw wobbling up and down slightly. He could not help but miss the place of his youth. The cold there was far less biting. The boy's hand slowly slipped off the door handle, coming to rest by his side. His hand burned away, the beginnings of frostbite making themselves known as the coldness of the night continued onward. A frown pulled across his face as he took a step back from the small building. Breaking himself free of the trance he had found himself in.
It escaped him the reasoning behind the strong desire to enter that building. The compulsion dragged him backward as he walked forward. With each step, it felt like another pound of weight was added to his being. Retracing his steps, the boy made his way back to his house. The old, decaying wood blended sheltering it away from prying eyes. Mikael stepped up onto the porch, the creaking groan piercing the quiet night. He could still remember when the wood had been lit up with red and blue. Flashing with anxiety and fear.
First things first, he needed to find that key. Mikael opened the front door of the house, and stepped inside. Tracking in wet snow that had clung to his boots. He would have time to figure out why his Father had locked the small shack up in the first place. The last time he had been in there, there had not been anything of real value. Just dusty boxes and old hunting trophies. The dim light from his candle was the only thing that illuminated the hallway he stood in. Even with the minimal light, it was not difficult to see the disrepair.
Mikael took a few steps, looking towards a small wooden table to his right. His hand brushed down the length of the surface. Picking up the dust that clung onto it. A small circle sat in the middle where the vase he had thrown used to rest. A fact that only propelled him forward into figuring out exactly what his Father was hiding. What could he be hiding? The man hardly did anything but mope about. Mikael frowned as he carefully walked through the house. Doing his best to avoid the boards that he knew would groan and creek the loudest. His goal lay ahead, but it was far too close to his Father's bedroom. Mikael frowned, bending down to carefully remove his boots. The wooden floor creaked under his weight as he shed his boots from his feet. With only his socks on, Mikael moved forward, sliding carefully through the hallway.
Standing in front of the door, Mikael paused, his hand hovered over the doorknob. His father's soft sobbing echoed muffled through his door. A deep frown pulled across his face as he held in his breath. It had no occurred that the man could have been awake at this hour. The darkness of the hallway seemed to close in on him. Only amplified as he quickly moved to dim the light from his candle. Not wanting to draw his Father's attention toward him. A part of him cried out at him to retreat, but he found himself rooted to the spot. With a silent resolve, Mikael turned the doorknob and stepped into the dark room. Leaving behind the hallway with his father's empty sobs behind.
Mikael looked about the room; the heavy amount of dust clung to the air, tainting it with a musty smell. The door clicked shut behind him as he stepped in further. Though, he could not find it within himself to truly care in the moment. The room used to be a rather beautiful small bedroom; long ago, it had been converted into a storage room of sorts. Green wallpaper remained on the walls, cracked and faded as it was. It had been one of the first rooms to start to fall apart. Which made it even more confusing as to why his parents decided to put things in there. Though, as he looked at the dusty boxes, he had an idea that there was nothing of true importance in here. Mikael bent down, lifting the lid off a box and taking a look at large swaths of shredded paper. 'Weird' the boy lamented inwardly. Putting the lid back on, the boy moved onto the next box.
He was not sure how long he had been in the room or if he would ever be able to feel his fingers again. If he concentrated hard enough he could imagine a chiding voice telling him he would catch hypothermia at this rate. As Mikael moved onto the small closet, the sky was beginning to lighten with the day's early rays. As the boy opened the brittle door to the slide, moving it with great difficulty as the wood groaned loudly. Staring mockingly at him was a small key lying inconspicuously on the closet shelf. The tang of disappointment had no time to bite at him as he studied the key quietly. Mikael's head tilted ever so slightly as he stared at the metal. Clean. When everything around it was dirty, why was it so clean?
Last edited by Percival Rainwood on 11 Feb 2024, 00:36, edited 1 time in total.
PC: Percival Rainwood
11 Feb 2024, 00:36
Do Not Hide
Mikael opened the door his brows furrowed as he glanced to the right. Studying the hardwood, gaze sharp and cautious as he listened out for any noise. For any sense of anything. His chest felt tight as he stood motionless in the doorway. The seconds clicked by in anguish, stretching far beyond their limits. The boy visibly relaxed as no noise broke through the silent house, carefully shuffling forward, Mikael closed the door behind him. It seemed almost surreal, the key weighing heavily in his pocket. It seemed almost impossible to contain himself as he pulled the key out. Looking at the front and back of it. Inspecting the grooves etched into the handle. Old and regal looking. Far too proper for their mess of a house.⋅ Inspiration ⋅
Pocketing the key once more, Mikael carefully traversed the hallway. His boots stood neatly next to one another. Dark and worn. Good for the harsh winters but not much in the way of style. Not that he ever truly cared. His gaze drifted down his front taking in the worn patterned sweater he wore. Once, the colors had been vibrant and many but now had been reduced to muted patterns. Stopping in front of his shoes, Mikael grabbed the boots slipping them on over his woolen socks. Puffs of cold air escaped from his slightly open mouth. Staring at the front door, if wood could talk, what would it say? What has it seen?
Red and blue flickered repeatedly over and over again. Bathing the windowpanes and floor in their harsh light. His breath came out in short puffs of smoke. Blowing away from him before dissipating quickly. Mikael slowly licked his lips as he stepped closer to the door. Brows furrowing upward in rapt attention. The boy's hand reached out grasping the metal door handle, clicking the lock down, and pulling the door towards him. His Father's back greeted him bathed in bright red and blue. The man stood like a stone statue, far straighter than he was used to seeing him stand. Not that he had truly seen him that much lately. Mikael swallowed thickly his gaze quickly shifting towards an older gentleman. His uniform was as crisp and cold as his eyes were as the man regarded him with an unrecognizable look. His stomach buzzed apprehensively. Twisting slowly into knots as the silence between the three of them seemed to grow.
"Sir, when was the last time you saw your wife?"
Mikael blinked quickly, looking off to the side, in an attempt to ease his feelings. Even to this day his heart still dropped into his stomach. Bile coated his tongue, swallowing quickly did nothing to rid himself of the taste. How badly he wished he could just lie down. To go back to sleep in his decently warm bed. And yet, Mikael crossed the threshold and onto the porch.
They were back. It was more of a statement than anything, no emotion rose to the surface as he stared at the officer. This was not the first time he had been around the police before. In his hometown, he could recall them visiting quite often. Not that he truly understood why. Mikael wasn't good at reading facial expressions, but it wasn't difficult to read the face of someone who wore it so boldly. Pity stained his tongue as he stared up at the greyed man. His Father stood far too close. Sensing his existence like a shadow behind him.
"I'm sorry, we found her. It appears she fell off a cliff."
Mikael's eyes narrowed in annoyance as he pushed off the last step down from the porch. The past haunted him like a shroud. Dragging him around and making his chest ache dully. A feeling strange and uncomfortable. The boy trudged over to the shed, snow collecting on the tops of his boots. Head down the boy glanced up slightly, stuttering to a stop. Had he just seen? Mikael shook his head rubbing a hand over his face. Maybe his lack of sleep was starting to finally get to him. Had he truly thought he had seen the being? The boy let out a soft airy laugh, it came out flat and strained. If the being was here he was certain the other would have commented how unlike him it was. The snow crunched with a finality as he stood in front of the door. Pausing with bated breath as he studied the door in front of him. He was so close, so close to understanding. It was clear the being wanted him here. Standing in front of the shed felt so right. Nothing else mattered except what was in front of him.
The boy turned the key out of his pocket, holding it between his thumb and pointer finger. Mikael swallowed thickly as he slid the key soundly into the lock. Smoothly slotting in with no complaint. As the boy walked in, he took in the sight of the old hunting lodge. The light caught the sharp angles of the exposed bone of deer antlers. An old dirty mirror lay off to the right, the bottom half being almost destroyed over time. Mikael looked down and saw a large wooden trunk with golden ornate details sitting underneath the window. The light of the early morning sun struck the shiny metal. Brows furrowing the boy stepped forward, coming up to kneel in front of it. This was a new edition. I Hands hesitantly moved upwards gripping the two latches that held the lid closed. Two distinct clicks filled the room, and in its silence sounded more like gunshots going off.
He wasn't too sure what he was looking at. Staring at the white fabric with a blank expression for far too long. Mikael's brows furrowed as a weird feeling slowly overcame. Creeping so slowly for a second he had trouble telling that he was feeling dread. The boy let the trunk lid fall open in favor of using both hands to pull the fabric free and upward. Mikael stood back up holding the dress-like robes in front of him. Sweat pulled underneath his collar as clouds of white billowed past his lips. White stared back at him hauntingly. Itching a part of his brain. Why did it look so familiar? Mikael dragged the fabric around haphazardly looking towards the mirror. Unconsciously, the boy turned the gown around and held it up to himself.
Acid bubbled up in his throat as he stared into the mirror. Wrong. Wrong! This felt wrong. White and gold stared back at him, catching the early morning rays. Shining bright and harsh. Glittering. Smiles. Oh god, the smiles. Stretched papery thin. Staring him down like fresh meat. Mikael dropped the dress robes as he quickly knelt on the ground heaving heavily. Bile escaped his mouth splashing haphazardly onto the ground. Mikael coughed weakly looking up towards the mirror. Wide tear-stricken eyes looked back at him. A strained sob pulled itself out of his throat with little care to how he felt about the matter. When was the last time he had cried like this? Sitting next to his vomit, discarded on the ground as he sobbed. His brows furrowed slightly as the world seemed to grey out around him. Mikael leaned further towards the ground, his breath catching in his ears. The only thing he could hear. As the boy fell to the ground, memories boiled to the surface. The tang of smoke on his tongue, and the rolling rumble of screaming lulled him to sleep.
Finished Thread
PC: Percival Rainwood