*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1373469-The-disease
Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
by Kharma
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Comedy · #1373469
Maddness...its catching up to me. (not close to finished.I haven't even used spell check)
I awoke to a sound somewhere between growling and keening. After a moment I realized the sound was coming from me and stopped. I didn't immediately open my eyes. My body felt as though someone put bricks in a bag and beat me with them.

Slowly I opened my eyes to find that the world had gone very, very fuzzy. I could only discern vague shapes looming toward me. As slowly as I possibly could I gathered my strength and sat up. The world swam before my unfocused eyes for a moment then went still.

My mind felt as though it were frozen molasses on a winters day. It didn't want to work properly at all. I tried to remember where I was, but nothing came to mind. I tried to remember anything at all, but again nothing came to mind.

I felt sick, nauseated. I could taste something that reminded me of metal in the back of my throat. And I could only smell disinfectant. My world was starting to trouble me.

It seemed a virtual century before I could really begin to see where I was. A small whitewashed room that contained the bare necessities. The small single bed I was in, a foot locker, a small dresser a tiny bedside table, and a very small desk with a stool.

The only window had thick steel bars and a mesh wire covering. The little bit of light coming into the room clued me in that it was day and not night. There were two doors leading out of the room. One was made of a thick, heavy wood. The other door, a thick, heavy metal with a slot in the middle.

Where in the Hell was I? I couldn't think still. My mind tried to race to find the answers but it still crept at a sad rate of speed. I looked down at myself to see I was wearing very light blue scrubs. No shoes, and I had bruised arms were it looked as though someone had grabbed me and tried to hold me in place.
Now I was starting to freak out just a little. The panic set my mind free finally. Like being dunked in a freezing river. I began to breath fast and I had to tell myself I was going to be okay.

After my small panic attack passed I swung my feet off the bed and stood. My world shook, no it was just my knees. A moment later my legs decided they could hold the rest of my body and I moved slowly toward the wood door. I had a small hunch that it would hold a bathroom behind it.

I reached the door after what seemed ten minutes but was in real time only a few seconds. Reaching out I grabbed a hold of the doorknob and turned while pushing inward. It took a moment but my shaking muscles finally worked well enough to push the heavy door open. I reached in and fumbled for a light switch, finding it I flipped it on. I was correct, it held a bathroom behind it.

The walls were the same yellow-white tile as the floor. Though some of the yellow coloring could be coming from the florescent lights. A couple of drains were in the floor of the room, there were no walls for the shower. Just a shower head sticking out of the wall on the far side of the room. A metal toilet sat against the wall to my left, no seat attached to the lid. A metal sink stood against the wall to my right, a rectangle mirror attached to the wall above it.

I walked slowly over to the sink and turned the water on. I held the sides of the sink to keep me steady as I waited for the water to turn warm. I stared at the water as it flowed out of the tap and swirled down the drain. I spread my stance a bit and plunged my hands into the water. A delicious feeling of liquid freshness flowed over my skin.

Cupping my hands I catch some water in my fingers and leaning over the sink I splash this freshness over my face. My eyes closed against the water I feel every drop as it runs down my face and chin. Then races down my neck to flow under my shirt. My fingers rubbing against my cheeks and chin make the stubble there itch, so I rub my hands against my face in an attempt to stop the itch.

My eyes slowly opened and I found myself looking directly into unique golden – orange eyes. I blinked, and my reflection blinked back at me. My thick auburn hair, which most people mistook for black, was getting long enough that it was starting to curl against my forehead. My features were perfectly symmetrical. My eyes, nose, lips, mouth, all perfectly matched. My skin looked like it belonged to a marble statue.

I looked down in the sink once again. And my mind slowly went over all the facts I had as of the moment. It took a moment until I realized the echoing whispers I thought I was hearing was in fact real. I scowled in thought and looked up.

Instead of looking into my own eyes and reflection I found myself looking into a smoky vortex in the mirror. I couldn’t move, it was like when people see an accident and can’t look away. My body wouldn’t listen to my mind as I tried to tell it to move back. The only movement I was making was involuntary shaking.

The vortex seemed to stop swirling and the smoke in the mirror seemed to just hang drifting in the air within the mirror. Then the smell of jasmine tinged with a small waft of smoke drifted to my senses, along with the smell of rain and something I couldn’t quite define.

The smoke started to disappear, from the top of the mirror. Inside the top of the mirror was not the wall behind me. It looked like a perfect shade of sky blue, with wisps of clouds. I began to be more fascinated than frightened. The smoke began to rapidly swirl away at this point. As the smoke went away it revealed a strange scene.

The skyline touched down into a room, as if the room had no ceiling, but it did. The sky was the ceiling. The room was made from what looked to be wood at first. Then I realized that the wood wasn’t dead, it was still alive and a part of a tree, or more than one tree. Beautiful green leaves looked to be surrounding the mirror like a frame on the inside. A black silhouette of a person was in the middle, but it looked nothing like it could be mine.

Dark purple – red hair was the first thing I glimpsed. I couldn’t tell the length, it was pulled up in a messy bun and set with some sort of wooden objects. Maybe a pair of chopsticks, maybe just pieces of wood. Before the rest of the person became fully uncovered by the smoke a voice came to my ears through the mirror. “Get her queenliness mopey whinny baby girl in here. I got her what she wants. Now get me what she promised me.”

The voice was husky, what I could only describe as a bedroom voice. The kind of voice a guy loves to hear come from his lovers lips. The smoke kept dissipating, to reveal smooth creamy skin, and the eyes a shade I have never seen before. Maybe I should say shades I have never seen before, as the eyes kept seeming to change color. But none of the colors were a natural color you would find on a person.

As the smoke disappeared completely I found a strange, exotic, beauty in the mirror before me. She seemed so beautiful that the sun and moon and stars could die pinning for her. Her attention was obviously not on me though. It seemed to be on something beyond me. I wanted to turn and look but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

“Good to see your done crying.” She spoke to whoever was behind me. “Now listen here. I only ever did what I was paid to do. You swore by your Honor that if I could get you where even your court magi couldn’t then you would pardon me and let me go. Do so now or I will pull my will from this and it will end before it begins.”

Her words seemed very important and yet they made no sense to me whatsoever. Perhaps that was because I shouldn’t be able to understand them. Whatever language she was speaking was one I didn’t know that I knew. Of course I don’t even know where I am or why. The language sounded like liquid poetry rolling off her honeyed tongue and through her lips of spun sugar.

Then a voice that sounded, if possible, more melodious and serene then the woman in the mirror before me sounded as if from behind and to my left. “I have sworn to you upon my Honor that you would be pardoned and removed from my kingdom. I want to be sure you have kept your end first Lady of the Autumn Winds.” The voice seemed to move through my very soul, brightening parts I didn’t even know where in shadow. A smile started on my face before I even realized it.

“Queen Sitha of the Moon and Starlight, if you so doubted me or my abilities I would still be wrapped in chains and mask in your rotting dungeon.” Laughter sounding like a crisp fall wind whispering through dry leaves filled the air. “But I am here. Doing what even your court magi could not and I want all that you have sworn to me. And I want it now.”

A shadow fell over the woman in the mirror, like a cloud passing over the sun. The mirror seemed to ripple like a pebble was thrown into a lake. Then there was someone standing between the woman that was called Lady of the Autumn Winds and I. The persons back was to me but something deep and guttural inside of me wanted to touch this person. I couldn’t remember where I was or even who, but I remembered things suddenly about this person.

Her smooth creamy white skin against my bronzed skin, the soft shushing sound of her silky hair running through my fingers, like the sound silk makes rubbing against itself. The sound of her soft even breathing in the dark of the night. The clear white blue of her eyes as she opened them in the moonlight to look into my eyes, my soul.

I knew her. In ways that where carnal and romantic and intimate and funny. In my minds eye I saw the soft smile that would curve her perfect lips when she was alone with me. I saw the way the sunlight would glisten off her molten silver tresses. The way the fierce intelligence would gleam out of her white-blue eyes as she sat upon a throne and listened to petitioners.

A throne? Maybe I was crazy. Maybe this was all an episode and I was in an asylum. This place vaguely reminded me of what I thought an asylum would be like. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to shake my head and make all of it disappear. Somewhere, so very, very deep down inside me my soul wanted to rebel against me and my thoughts. If this was madness, if knowing I once held perfection given form in my arms during the night was my mind being broken... Did I want to be 'better'?

The woman turned toward me and the breath I had been holding simply vanished and a strange sensation like my heart being seized in someones hand and squeezed began. Her flimsy, soft looking, flowing gown matched her white – blue eyes perfectly. The silver filigree edging matched her long soft hair, which was partly flowing down her back and partly held up on the top of her head by what appeared to be strands of silver light flowing through her hair.

Her slim shape seemed slightly depleted by grief, but her face was surely in no bad shape though the crystal lines of tears still trailed down from her perfect slightly almond shaped eyes. Her gorgeous features were surely what inspired great artists to paint or musicians to sing love songs or poets to pen sonnets or poems. I have no words to describe her properly so I will leave it as perfection. Like the way the sky is painted at dawn or dusk. The way a thousand foot waterfall fills you with awe.

Her eyes widen at the sight of me and I caught myself reaching a hand out as if to touch her. Stopping myself before I touched the mirror. My hand hung for a moment in the air. She mirrored my gesture and her slim fingered hand hung as if waiting for me to take it.

“Tis truly you my love. I thought you so far in that I could no longer reach you. I thought I must wait a lifetime to try and find you again.” Her voice sounding so soft that it made it seem like no one else was there. Like we were completely alone and in some intimate surroundings. “I had hoped that you were not kissed by the final death. I would surely have followed if you had been.”

She looked as if she would go on. Maybe telling me something that would let me know where I was, why, and who. But the first lady cleared her throat and the image dimmed slightly, as if the smoke would come back to cover the mirror. My hand lowered and I clutched the side of the sink but my eyes never left the woman my very being said I knew.

“Lady of the Autumn Winds, you have indeed done what you said you could. I will live up to my end of the bargain. I will release you from the custody of this court.” She smiled as she finished the sentence. “Though I did not put a time limit on when I would do so.”

The image in the mirror started to swirl away. And the last thing I saw was her turning toward the Lady of the Autumn Wind quickly. The mirror went back to its metallic self and I was looking at my reflection again. The sound of running water coming to me all of a sudden. I turned the faucet off and saw that my hands were no longer shaking.

Having no towel to dry my hands with I used the scrub pants I wore, patting my hands dry on them. I stood staring into the mirror for a long time. Hoping that I would see smoke swirling. After five minutes or so of that with nothing happening I turned and began walking back into the room I had woke in.

As I entered the room I heard metal grating against itself and I slowly turned toward the metal door as it began swinging out. I saw a giant of a man look up from the doorknob and surprise register on his face before he spoke.

“You should still be asleep. Greg put enough tranq in you to down a horse.” His voice held a lot of bass in it. His features were rather normal looking after those of the ladies in the mirror. He had to be around six foot seven inches tall and three feet wide. His form was all muscle beneath the green scrubs and his surfer tan.

“You gonna be nice or do I have to give you medication? I have food for you and a deck of cards.” He squinted brown eyes at me as he looked me up and down. “You don't look so tough. The boys said you downed five of them before we got you under control.”

He moved a step back and reached somewhere down the right side of the hall. He pulled a cart into sight. The cart held a plastic tray that held what must have been the food he spoke of, but I had my doubts if it was edible. He rolled the cart into the room in front of him. Another man that might have been his twin stepped into the doorway looking bored and closed the door, locking us both inside.

I moved back to give him and the cart room enough to move. He pushed the cart a little further into the room before he stopped it. He pulled the cover of the cart back and revealed an ugly orange plastic tray with a paper plate full of what might have been mashed potatoes, corn and a mystery meat with brown sauce. A small container of apple sauce was next to the plate on the tray. A napkin with a plastic spork on it was on the other side of the plate.

He lifted the tray up and sat it down on the small desk. “You gotta eat this, then Doc Hammerstein wants to see ya.” He didn't once take his eyes off of me as he moved or spoke. I squinted at him, trying to discern who he was, what he was saying, and what that meant for me.

“Where am I?” I asked. My voice sounded like the croaking of a toad or frog. A dry rasp of sound in the room. I cleared my throat and that sounded like thunder in quiet mountain tops.

He laughed. A loud obnoxious noise. “That's funny.” He stated with a grin. “Your a boat load of crazy man. Your at The Institute for the Criminally Insane.” He shook his head like he couldn't believe he had to tell me. “You killed like eight people man.” He covered the cart as he spoke, and pulled it back toward the door.

Murder? Was I a murderer? I didn't think so, but I didn't rightly know either. “What are you talking about?” I asked as he got to the door and lifted his big beefy hand up to knock on the door. At the knock the other guy in the hall started unlocking the door to let him out.

“Dude,” The man rolled his eyes. “Your a crazy person. You were caught red handed. Had a freakin' long sword. Waving it around hacking into people. Screaming about how they were assassins come to take your throne.” He laughed again as the other guy opened the door.

I took two steps toward him and the door, my arms out as if to entreat him not to leave. The other guy stared daggers at me. “Stop.” The guy out in the hall spoke with a deep bass voice that boomed out of his huge chest.

I hesitated for a moment. I couldn't believe that I was a murderer. This man must be wrong. But I was right about being in an asylum. Which bothered me. I wanted to talk to him more before he left. At least I was getting some facts. “Wait,” I pleaded. “Do you know who I am?”

The guy had looked at the one out in the hall when he spoke and now looked back at me with a strange look on his face. He shook his head and started to leave with the cart. As he got into the doorway and between myself and the other guy I stepped quickly forward again. Before I got to the door he was out and it was slammed closed in my face.

Through the door I heard him before the two of them walked further down the hallway. “Check Mr. Hawthorne off the list dude.” Did that mean I was Mr. Hawthorne? I had no way of knowing. Was I truly crazy? Did I kill people? The questions swirled around in my mind, eerily like the fog had swirled around in the mirror earlier.

My stomach roared into the still room and I turned from the door. Walking to the desk I sat on the stool and stared at the food. It looked disgusting, the gravy congealing like blood. The mashed potatoes were lumpy and had strange silvery slivers in it. I shook my head and picked up the spork. It was light weight and the plastic was thin, I supposed so that it would bend if someone attacked another person with it.

As unappetizing as the food appeared to be I started shoveling it into my mouth, starting with the mashed potatoes. The taste was as ashes in my mouth at first. Then, as I swallowed, it was as if hot lava was being poured down my throat. Little burning pricks all in my mouth and down my throat. My vision blurred with tears of pain, my throat seemed to seize up, not allowing air into my lungs. The lack of oxygen making my mind hazy again. The world around shrank to a pinpoint of light and then was gone.
© Copyright 2008 Kharma (bloodieangel at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Username:
Password: <Show>
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1373469-The-disease