︱THE PRETTY LITTLE THING THAT LIVES IN THE HOUSE︱
Jan 30, 2022 5:51:14 GMT -5
Jason Long, OZYMANDIAS, and 2 more like this
Post by gothmother on Jan 30, 2022 5:51:14 GMT -5
THE PRETTY LITTLE THING THAT LIVES IN THE HOUSE
[DAS KLEINE SCHÖNE DING DAS IM HAUS LEBT]
[DAS KLEINE SCHÖNE DING DAS IM HAUS LEBT]
She was in that awkward state between dreaming and being awake. Many people had been there before, but most of the time they didn’t know about the circumstances. For Elena DeDraca it was a different situation. She knew that this wasn't reality, but that didn’t mean that she could escape the self built cage. With every step she took she went deeper into the situation. Yet that didn’t stop her from taking the next step. And another.
The corridors of this old house seemed strangely familiar, although it was no real place. Or at least none she would remember when being fully awake. Somewhere in the back of her mind a small voice warned her to turn around. It kept repeating the same mantra over and over: You shouldn’t be here. And without second guessing, she knew that the voice wasn't lying. But there were moments in life where the obvious choice wasn't the right one. Even though it probably would have been for the better. The easy way out was never an option for someone like Elene.
Remember who you are, little girl.
Asif she was in trance her fingers reached out to touch the molded fabric of the wallpaper. Oddly enough she felt the structure a lot more than any dream should allow her to. It was dry and a small cloud of dust escaped when her fingertips gently brushed over it. A small sigh escaped her lips, but not for one moment did her feet stop walking. The small amount of light given to this long corridor created a macabre atmosphere. The electric light coming from the lamps hanging every few meters were flickering. Old houses had the tendency to be filled with old cables.
You have seen enough horror movies to know this.
Her green eyes adapted to what surrounded her and with every step her vision became more clear. Seeing the little details that other people probably would ignore. But it was things like this that gave a house character. Very much like when you looked at another person. Their eyes, hair or small imperfections. But there was more. Portraits that showed people she had never seen before. Or at least not when she was awake. But there was still this nagging feeling in the back of her mind that told her to remember. She just wasn't ready yet.
The further she had walked the clearer the picture became. Every painting showed the same person, but in different stages of her life. From a little girl with a smirk on her face, to a grown up woman. The expression of the woman's face had changed, from painting to painting. Stoic. Cold. Yet slightly wounded. The long black hair was the only resemblance from the first to the last picture. And even though the porcelain skin was still slightly viewable, age obviously had done its best to her.
Open your eyes, little girl.
The request sounded easy, still it sounded like a warning. It felt as if she had walked for hours and when turning around the corridor behind her wasn't filled with light anymore. It was as if every lamp had burnt out after she passed it. And after what seemed like an exhausting walk there was only one painting left. Something on her inside dragged her away from it, but it wasn't her character to run. Nor could she hide from her own path. She took the last necessary step and then faced what was meant for her eyes only.
The frame of the painting was different from all the others. While the rest seemed from exquisite handwork, this one was rather plain. No fancy ornaments or details one could admire. A simple black frame showing her something she couldn’t understand at first sight. The female had vanished. The painting only showed one thing. Nothing. It was a black spot that was ready to consume her. No way out.
You always knew this would happen.
Even though she tried harder than ever before, she couldn’t take her sight from it. Most people would have seen nothing more than the black painting. But Elena looked behind the layers. Trying to find something else inside this endless darkness, but there was nothing. Whatever had been there before, it was gone. Maybe there never was anything to begin with. Something inside of her was ready to give up, allowing the unavoidable to finish the job- but then her eyes spotted something that snapped her out of this agony.
Only inches away from this bizarre scene was a plain looking door. But that wasn't what caught her in the first place. No. But inside the doorframe stood this small girl, smiling at her. And even though she couldn’t remember who this was in her current state of mind, the girl gave her a feeling she had forgotten.
Hope.
Instantly the darkness was forgotten and all her focus remained on the blonde angel in her pink dress. The blue eyes combined with the wild locks had something magnetic. But without a warning the girl turned around and began to walk away from her. Elena wanted to scream. She wanted to beg the girl to wait for her, but not a single word escaped her mouth. But for the first time during this crazy dream, her body was her own. She was back in charge, and the stiffness was slowly fleeing from her. She had to go after this girl, no matter the cost.
It was like all of her senses came back to life at the same time. Not the most thrilling situation to say the very least. If she had to describe it to someone in easy words, it felt like falling into a frozen lake. A hundred small needles torturing your body at once. But it made sure she did remember one thing: She was living.
One more step. She is waiting for you.
That last step was all it needed for the whole scene to change. It was like her own reality had shifted in the blink of an eye. She had escaped that dark house and now stood, barefoot, on soft ground. When she looked down though, it hit her harder than she could possibly have imagined. Elena had expected to see green grass, but she was taught a lesson. There was grass but it was coloured in all shades of red. Wet, sticky and warm. Her feet were soon coloured the same and while she felt disgust grow inside of her, she still looked for the little girl.
There she was. Somewhere in the near distance there was this well known laughter. Forgotten was the grass, the blood and every doubt. She ran faster than her lungs allowed. There was this sharp pain that was ready to strike her down. It was impossible to ignore, but she had to be where this girl was. Now. Always.
Out of breath and with sweat covering her pale skin she finally reached her goal. There was this little, perfect creature standing very still. Way too still for a little girl, but to Elena this didn’t seem awkward. Behind the girl's back there were holes. Many holes. The Fist of Hydra didn’t need to guess what this was, she knew it. Graves. Most of them were well covered with dirt and mud. The stones reading names she knew all too well. But there was one at the end of the row that was open. Something automatically dragged her there, but the girl got in her way.
“Patience. We will get there when the time is right.”
Much to Elena’s disbelief the girl didn’t sound as expected. There was nothing sweet or innocent in that voice, if anything there was a warning swinging in it.
“It took you longer than expected and not quite as long as others. You know why you are here, Elena.”
“I really don’t…”
“Yes you do. Your mind just hasn’t adapted what your soul knew for a long time. The coldness inside of you becomes more of a burden. Daily. You try to keep up the facade, but there is nothing that holds you together anymore. The joy you used to feel, only a strange memory from a different life. Your different life.”
Elena looked at the girl but didn’t know how to respond. Or if a response was even needed or wanted. The girl began to walk, knowing fully well that she would follow. They stood in front of a stone that read of Elena’s birth mother. The woman that gave her away because she was young and hopeless. The same woman that passed away not even two years ago. And also the first person that left a wound inside of Elena’s soul.
“Not even in death you can forgive her, can you? You tried for so many years but the hole would never heal. Forgiveness isn’t your biggest strength, Elena. Yet you don’t wanna accept this. She is dead. And she died knowing that her daughter will forever despise her.”
As much as she wanted to protest, she couldn’t. Because something inside of her reminded her that this was the truth. An absent mother. A loveless father. But there was more. And it was proven the moment they reached the next stone. She didn’t have to read the names on the stones. Those two people weren’t dead. At least not on the other side of this wicked dream.
“Here rest your once beloved brothers. The family you held so dear for decades. Till they betrayed you and walked away. You could have held them back, but this isn’t your nature. When someone hurts you, you let them go. Dearest Elena, this isn’t about who is to blame. But all about who has the power. Love and hate only is divided by a thin line. The bond was ripped a long time ago, you just needed time to accept it.”
For a split second she felt as if all air had left her lungs. All kinds of memories rushed through her system, but she knew better than to let them out. Instead she walked on without looking back. The next one hurt probably more than the other two combined. Cyrus Riddle. She was tempted to reach out and touch the gold marmor, but her body wouldn’t obey.
“The one. That was what you thought when you met this man. So full of flaws and dark energy. So many times he stomped on your feelings, but you told yourself he didn’t know better. And the truth is, he loved you in the only way he could. It was his destructive nature that created what you now call the Fist of Hydra. He broke your heart in a way that no one else could or ever would get the chance to do so again. It was this pain that made you the monster that everyone flees from. He was both a gift and a curse. One you hardly survived.”
But he gave me Izabella.
The creature smiled up at her as if she had read her mind, which probably was the case. They would meet a few more stones before they finally reached the one hole that was open. Elena kept her distance, not sure she wanted to see what was down there. The girl noticed her hesitation and offered that tiny hand. As if magically drawn to her, Elena grabbed the hand allowing her to take control. Gently pushing her closer to the edge. Somehow she knew what she would see, but that didn’t mean she was ready.
Down there in the open hole inside a fancy casket rested a young woman. She was covered in a white dress, long dark hair creating a frame for the pretty face. Eyes and mouth closed. If she didn’t know better, she would have said the woman was sleeping. The real horror was that she knew this face better than anyone. When she managed to look away she for the first time noticed the simple wooden cross in front of her.
Here rests Elena DeDraca.
“It always had to come down to this. We just don’t know the exact moment when our time is up. You have done good things in your life, but there are things you never recover from. No matter how successful your life is. No matter how much you fill it with the little moments of joy. You, Elena DeDraca, never were meant to live the simple life. Good or bad. But that is what makes you a tragic figure, darling. When you look back at your life right now, are you ready to let go? Can you cut the strings and allow yourself to rest in peace?”
For a long moment Elena just stood there, staring at the cross still. When she looked at the girl, it was as if she saw her for the first time. Seeing her for real. It was by no means a surprise that this creature felt so familiar, even though she couldn’t put a finger on it. Now it was crystal clear. In front of her stood a way smaller version of herself. All the features morphed into a little Elena. The same girl she once was when standing behind the gate of the orphanage. Dreaming of a life she probably would never have.
“I am sorry, little girl.”
“What for, Elena?”
“For all the times I have let you down. For all the promises I made you in those endless dark nights. I haven’t always done what’s best for us, have I? But I am afraid I will have to disappoint you just one more time.”
There was an honest surprise in the eyes of mini Elena. No hate or disappointment.
“I know why you brought me here today. And while I appreciate the gesture, there is still something left to do. You are right, for the past year I have been walking between this place and what I call my life. I have allowed it to rip me apart, without ever putting myself back together. You are correct, some wounds never heal. Some things are better left unsaid. But if this is supposed to be my end, little one, I am gonna go out with a bang. And that will not be today.”
The girl nodded her head and for the first time there was this well known smile. It was the same smile she now saw on Izzy’s face. Slightly devilish but also kinda pure. Without warning the girl wrapped her arms around her.
“I will wait for you. Always.”
Elena didn’t get a chance to reply to anything as the whole scene crashed in front of her eyes. She wasn't in her self built cage any longer. That night she made the decision to no longer wander between the realities. She was meant to make a decision, pick a side so to speak. The hardest decision of her life probably.
Elena DeDraca wanted to live.
Elena DeDraca wanted to feel alive.
Elena DeDraca wanted to make other people’s life a living nightmare.
Pain is your gift.
THE MONSTER YOU CREATED
[DAS MONSTER DAS DU ERSCHAFFEN HAST]
[DAS MONSTER DAS DU ERSCHAFFEN HAST]
It was the morning after. Even though she probably had been locked inside her own head for many hours, asleep, she didn’t feel rested. Restless, maybe. For the first time in months she felt every fiber of her body. It was slightly unpleasant, but she was no longer a ghost to herself. The person staring back at her from the mirror was no stranger any longer. The decision that tore her apart for too long was made. She knew what her purpose was and felt ready to fulfill her destiny.
Sitting behind that mahogany desk, one very similar to the one the nuns had at the orphanage, somehow gave her peace. As much as she loved the little girl that kept her company in her dreams, so little did they have together now. They shared the same hurt and the experiences that lead them here, but not their coping mechanisms. Sure they both were angry, but the little girl didn’t know what to do with this anger. Elena? She had no filter when it came to violence. Neither did she know the deeper meaning of showing mercy. Or the point of it.
She absorbed the silence that filled this room. Neither Mark nor Izzy would ever enter the library without being invited. They knew that this room was Elena’s. A place where she collected her thoughts, placed memories she couldn’t live with any longer. Dramatic as she was, it was the only door in this house that was painted red. Here she hid and embraced her darkest moments and her biggest hits. But it also stood for the collected chaos that was Elena DeDraca’s troubled mind. Who she really was.
“Maybe all the lies they told us when we were still kids…were true. Maybe all the dreams we had were meant to crash and burn in front of us.”
Her voice was not more than a whisper. But still loud enough to be heard. By herself. By the audience that would see this later today. And most definitely by the man called Slade Castle.
“You remember when I said don’t let your past define you? When I said I don’t care for past achievements and all the glory they hold? I think I was not listening to myself very well. For the past weeks I have been working against my own nature. I was so used to being the Project Honor Legacy champion. So used to be the dominant force, that I went blind for my own rules. If it was in my nature I would apologize for this, but we all know better than this. The only person I really let down was myself. And not even I get a ‘sorry’. For almost two decades I said the same thing: People are lazy. The moment they become successful they only do the minimum. They don’t leave their comfort zone and pick their challenges. I never wanted to be like them. But part of me grew tired of being not appreciated. Part of me didn’t understand why people kept trying to talk me down. But now it is all too clear.”
It was hard to say what she was thinking at that moment. Everything about her seemed perfectly calm and collected. And maybe for the first time it really was.
“People don’t want the best version of you. They fear dominance. And that is what I have been working for all my life. Being dominant. Being a leader, without ever wanting people behind me. But there comes a time in life when you have to bury childhood dreams. Tell them farewell and move on. And that is what the adult version of me will do. Or has already done. I have reached the highest highs in this industry and I have felt the lowest lows. I don’t need to measure up to the standard, because I have broken all of them before. I am no longer going to be defined by psychos on ego trips, or rookies that hardly have the ability to clean their own arses. You all wanted to label me something I am not. You wanted to pick the version of me you like best.”
She smiled.
“But that version doesn't exist any longer. In moments of defeat you either break or you find back to yourself. I had forgotten what a wonderful feeling it is to see through your own eyes. The truth is, I don’t need anyone to pat me on the shoulder. I don’t need any back up plan. I have always been this one girl army. So I want you to understand that there will be no peace until I have… no, there will just be no peace.”
She reached out to the paper knife, for a moment looking at her own reflection. Just like in told times she played with it. Here and there pricking into one of her fingers, but working against the pain.
“Which leaves Mister Castle in a problematic situation. You have never done me any wrong, or at least nothing so big that I could remember it. But we will encounter in a match where everything goes. There are no limits, no rules- well, this is Fallout. But even without this stipulation, I couldn’t guarantee this would be a happy ending. I am no fucking massage palace, if you understand what I mean. Ever since I returned to this shithole I watched everyone doing their thing. Talking too much, parading around and acting as if they were any important to this place. I got news for you, if you left tomorrow… no one would give a flying fuck. Take it from someone that just experienced that. So enjoy the good wave while it lasts. Sooner or later it will crash you into pieces.”
“And same goes for you Slade. You had some success in Project Honor, but what about now? You slipped. You failed. You are fucked. That is the beauty and cruelty of this business. You are on top of the world one day, and ask for food the next. So as bizarre as it might sound, I feel your pain. I would offer you a hug and all that shit, but most people don’t survive the gesture. My hugs. My devotion. Both mostly end with broken bones and bloody faces. I have no beef with you. I honestly haven’t put enough time and thoughts into you, but at our match you are the wounded animal. And even though it goes against my nature, I will give you that mercy kill. What is there left for you to gain? What can you come back to? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And while you might say that I have fallen, I am no stranger to dusting myself off- fighting my way back up. It’s what I have always done. Against all odds.”
Her attention was caught for just a moment as she pricked a tiny bit too hard. A drop of blood formed on her index finger. Sharp objects left finer scars.
“I am not gonna lie to you, Slade. But you are what they call an appetizer. Which is okay for those that are not very hungry. But this is the thing about me, I am like famine when it comes to inflicting pain to other people. All my life they have tried to hold me down, telling me it wasn't acceptable to be who I am. And much to my dismay I must accept that there was a time I believed them. A time where I wanted to be accepted. I felt like I was always fighting on my own. But what was meant as a life lesson, soon became my mantra. One that describes me better than anything else could. Do I think you deserve the wrath that is coming for you? Not at all. Do I care if you survive? Not in the slightest.”
“I have no time left to beat around the bush, Slade. I don’t wanna rub your fucking ego. I don’t want to play nice. We can agree that you have a certain amount of talent, or you wouldn’t be signed to the company. I don’t wanna have to say that to each fucking opponent. But your talent ain’t gonna pay the rent. You will always need a plan B when you go up against me. And in many matches a plan C, D,... you know the alphabet. Hopefully. I will return to my duties next Fallout. I will fuck up whatever plans Arik Holt has. I will burn down his fucking office, or whatever shithole he sits in. And if the chance arrives, I will cut out his heart. Why? Because I can. He ain’t a fucking puppeter. He is just a tool.”
Elena made sure that the little cut on her finger kept bleeding. It was just drop by drop, but it reminded her of something essential. Blood was life.
“Maybe you will label me a psycho too, Slade. Maybe you will laugh me off. I have had both and neither of it could have ever stopped me. The more you try to belittle me, the harder I come at you. So pick your words wisely and maybe use your brain before speaking. I know that is a difficult task for most people. I must remind you of something that is very important. Something that people keep forgetting when it comes to me. Wait, my bad. They don’t forget, they try to ignore. The moment I lost the Legacy title, I became no one to many. But in the same moment I became someone to myself again. I once more gave birth to who Elena DeDraca is. The girl that has nothing left to lose. The one that will destroy everything you love just to get the message through. Deep in your heart you know that this is the fate waiting for you, Slade. You can’t run and you can’t hide.”
“But if I give it a second thought, you don’t seem like someone that runs. You will sit this out just like every other time. And maybe you will even learn a lesson or two. We all get born with the same chances, Slade. No matter if you are poor or rich. Pretty or ugly. It all is a matter of what you make of it. I came with nothing and truthfully I will leave with nothing. But while I am here, I will leave a bloody footprint on each and everyone. I allowed softness to take its toll on me. I began to see the good in people that never were there in the first place. I made this mistake three times in my life and each time it fucked me up harder than the one before. So maybe this is selfish of me, Slade, but I have no good deeds left in me.”
Finally she would lay down the paper knife, putting the finger to her lips. She licked off the little bit of blood that was still left. Her eyes would finally look into the camera, still perfectly collected and under control. The calm before the storm.
“I will eat you alive, Slade. I will take everything that makes you who you are. And when you beg me to stop, I will push a little further. Up to the point where your whole world will turn black. There will be nothing left of you, darling. But this is also your chance to start over. You can either let the darkness consume you and be forgotten. Or you can rebuild yourself. It all is a matter of self control. And anger. Yeah. That is the one important ingredient that so many underestimate. In songs they will sing about love moving mountains. But take this from me, anger creates worlds. We will dance together. You will try to take the lead and maybe for just a second I will let you. Give you the feeling of safety. Something so many long for. But when you least expect it, you will see me smile. Just like this.”
Elena put on her most perfect smile, sharp white teeth flashing towards the camera. Some blood still on her lower lip.
“And then I will go for your throat. Because that is what monsters do, darling. We come to life when people can’t take the blame for their own failures. When they are too weak to accept their flaws. That is when human beings create monsters to fight against. I could be upset with this, but why fight what I have perfected over the years? Why be something that I am not? I am not a queen. I am not a goddess. If anything I am a wild animal that was left in a cage to die. By DeMarco. By Johnson. By Holt. They wanted to throw away the key and move on. But you, Slade, will become the reminder that no bars can hold me. You will be the testament that the Fist of Hydra will overcome whatever they put in my way. And the fun part? You are just the beginning. You know what I usually would say now? No hard feelings and all that nonsense. May the better one win. And nothing personal.”
Another pause. Followed by a long laughter. Weirdly enough only her mouth and face moved, the rest of her body remained still.
“Let’s cut the crap, shall we? This has nothing to do with a regular wrestling match. I don’t care enough for you to pretend. Honestly, I don’t care enough for anyone in this company to make the same mistake twice. I will hurt you. I will break you. And if it comes down to it… I will end you. This is what I offer, Slade. Fuck what you want. Fuck what you believe in. And fuck what management thinks about this. Does that sound more like what you expected?”
“Live today as if it was your last day on earth…”
“...because it might be.”
[FIST OF HYDRA]
