Prologue
Crimson covered her tiny, frail fingers, while figments of a wire-thin silhouette shadowed the confinements of her tattered holding room. She shook her head violently, willing the only color she saw to disappear into thin air, just as the man before her did. She remembered him, but only a small fraction of what was actually hidden in her past memory. She was always proud of herself for keeping her darkness hidden away, hidden even from herself, but not right now.
A slight moment of weakness, and it was back.
Oh god, it was back
The darkness and the emotions that controlled her life for so long. She thought this was over. She thought she could move on. What a silly child to think that everything would be ok. A lump formed in her throat and tears stung her eyes. Her chest began to rise and fall with a rapid speed causing her breathing to become heavy.
She felt anger, terror and shame ripple through her entire being as he appeared over her, yet again pointing his long boney finger at her, and spitting words of intent, ready to pounce on her at any moment.
Terrified of what's to transpire, she rocked in her dirty corner shaking her head back and forth, willing the image of the man to go away, leave, die, or whatever. She didn't deserve this. Exploding rage began to rise with a squeezing pressure in her head. She cried, screamed, and even begged him to leave her alone. Pulling at her hair, and hitting the sides of her head.
"Please go away, please go away," she begged.
The only words that she could speak came out as a desperate whimper. It was like she was a useless child long ago, not strong enough to fight back.
Always crying and cowering in a corner, Bile started to rise and she fought the urge to vomit. Why is this happening again? Her focus slowly pulling away from the memories, she began to calm and collect herself using the mantra she used when she was younger. Something her mother used to say to herself.
It's ok, it will end soon. I will be fine. It's only in my head.
Tears started to dry on her face leaving long mascara tinged streaks down her cheeks, chin and neck. She was numb and after what seemed an eternity, she realized the man had vanished. Disoriented, she saw the last of his remains flash in her mind as blood trickled down her fingers and into her lap, mixing with a new pool of tears.
The wire-thin silhouette remained still as it only observed the behavior, watching the madness take over completely. Pity, he shook his head, it was only part of an experiment. His experiments were designed for a stronger mind, but if or not for the proper subject, it would become an utter failure. The effects would be all consuming, overloading its victims with unpleasant memories to replay over and over again as if it were a skipping record player.
Designed for the weak to relive its memories over and over, but for the strong, healthy mind, power exudes at its highest frequency.
