Tasha - Nightmare Cinema - NC-17
Jun. 22nd, 2006 05:11 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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darker_londonA dull sort of awareness had returned to Tasha, worming its way through the haze of her sedatives. She was unable to really move due to the sedatives, restraints notwithstanding, aside from a languid blinking of her eyes. Even turning her head seemed like too much effort. She just stared across the room at the door. Waiting. Waiting for someone to come to see her. Hell, even just waiting for another injection so that she could go back to sleep.
Absently, she wished there was a television or something in the room.
There was a crackling sound at the edge of her mind, like static. It was gradually growing louder. Something strange was happening to her vision. It was going foggy, fading in and out. As if another image wanted to superimpose itself over the one that she was seeing now.
With a snap, it resolved itself, and Tasha wanted to close her eyes to shut it out, but she couldn't. Something kept them open. The words "IT'S ME" were appearing in blood, covering the walls, the door, the ceiling. It was as if the very surfaces were bleeding.
And then they appeared. Claire and Jake. What were they doing in her room? They had never appeared this way before... Their backs were facing her, but every now and then one of them would turn away. They were distraught. At the very edge of Tasha's field of vision, she could just see what was upsetting them... Avery's body lying in a pool of blood issuing from the gash in his neck. There was blood everywhere. On the floor, on the walls, mixing in with the writing but never covering it completely. It was always there for her to see. And broken glass, broken glass everywhere. Claire was trying to stop the bleeding, but her movements were so strange. Then Tasha realised... they were backwards.
It was confirmed a moment later when Jake and Claire backed out of the room at a run, disappearing behind Tasha's head. Claire had stumbled, while Jake seemed to slide to his feet before disappearing. For a few moments, Avery just lay there, the blood seeping back inside. Tasha's heart leapt in her chest as his body suddenly rose off the floor, defying gravity to perch on the table by her bed. He was surrounded by ghostly shards of glass in a phantom window frame, digging into his hands as the blood flowed back into them. His body was heaving with coughs, each one seeming to suck blood off the walls to flow back into his wound. More and more, faster and faster, until in a swift and horrible motion a knife flew into his hand from the floor and he ripped it across his neck, closing the wound as a spray of blood was sucked back in at the last moment. Then he leapt backwards out of the window and replaced the knife. It faded away as soon as he let it go, and he seemed confused and panicked for a moment before running backwards out of her vision. A few moments later, the shards of glass flew into the window frame and reformed, and that too disappeared. The writing on the walls still remained.
Then she could see herself leaning against the wall. She was wearing her long, black PVC dress, which she quickly removed along with her bra. She wasn't wearing any panties. The only things she was wearing now were her boots. The motion was odd... she wasn't getting undressed, after all. She was seeing herself get dressed, backwards. A gaping wound could be seen in her breast, and a similar wound on her thigh. They were exactly the places that she had cut herself, and had Jack cut her when she had fucked him, but these wounds were deep and terrible. Blood was flowing up her legs and over her stomach, back into the wet, glistening wounds. After a moment Jack approached, also naked, licking blood onto his fingers. He was walking forwards, but originally, he had backed away from her... he pressed his fingers against the wound on Tasha's breast, and they came away clean. They exchanged a few words, their naked bodies close together, before Jack nipped her neck. A few more words, and Jack lifted Tasha off the ground, his hands on her arse, and slid his glisteningly wet cock inside her. Immediately they were arching back in orgasm, Tasha's thighs quivering against Jack as he held her tight. It would have been enough to make the real Tasha very wet if it hadn't been so dreadfully wrong to watch the scene unfold backwards, the writing on the wall smearing behind the two as they thrusted, and the blood still flowing freely up to the illusory Tasha's wounds. Her own knife flew up from the ground into Jack's hand, and he ran it along Tasha's thigh, the last of the blood on her leg flowing back into the wound as he closed it. The knife was passed back to Tasha, and then his hand was inside her, playing with her clit piercing as he slammed her against the wall. Jack shifted himself and leaned down to suck at the wound on Tasha's breast, the blood around his lips gone when he pulled away. Then there was the knife in Tasha's hand, closing her flesh so that not a hint of the wound remained as she slipped the switchblade back into her boot. They were kissing at biting at each other now, still pounding all the while, until finally, Jack pulled his throbbing erection out of her. Tasha was still wet, pressing herself up against Jack. But then his trousers raised from the ground to cover him, Tasha's hands seeming to do up the clasp of his belt before Jack somehow replaced her torn knickers. She was still pressed against the wall, smearing the bloody writing as Jack pressed against her, but the smears were resolving themselves back into words, now. Tasha's dress rose to cover her hips, and Jack spun her around, his back now to the wall instead of hers. And then they were scratching at each other, both of them dragging their nails down each other's backs, the bloody trails disappearing. Finally, Tasha replaced Jack's shirt, and his hands and mouth explored her breasts. That came to an end to as her bra reappeared, and she pulled on her gloves. They exchanged a few more words as Jack zipped up her dress, then kissed her savagely, his hand in her hair. They both made a strange motion with their feet, and then two cigarettes flew back into their hands, and they exited the scene, always walking backwards, the smoke flowing from the air and into their mouths.
The phantom Tasha wasn't gone for long, though. She reappeared dressed in a sultry, low-cut white dress, a triumphantly cruel expression on her face as she spoke to Avery. The images were moving further and further into the past... this was Jack's birthday party. Words were being exchanged. Avery moved closer to Tasha, when in reality, he had been backing away. It was almost cruel to see in this way, to think that in another world, Avery might have succumbed and let Tasha seduce him...
She might have been living in the mansion in Cape Town now, rather than stuck here in what amounted to little more than a prison cell. Hell, even in prison you didn't get tied to the bed.
Avery was looking around nervously, trying to find Jake or Jack. But Tasha wasn't taking no for an answer, licking her lips suggestively as she stroked Avery's thigh. She was pressed up close against him, the Fitzwilliam necklace glittering even in the dull light of the hospital room. Then she backed away a little, and disappeared, as did Avery.
Nothing. Nobody there. Only the words on the wall remained. The strange static filled her ears once more, and again, her vision altered strangely. As if shifting to another order of reality.
She blinked, and then he was there. Avery, on the end of her bed. Blood was pouring from the stitches in his neck, pooling at her feet. From his eyes, too, as he cried bloody tears. The scratches on his arms matched Tasha's, slash for slash. He breath was rapid, much faster than could possibly occur naturally. He was barely moving, but wavering in such a way as people did who were trying too hard to remain still. It wasn't that, though. Again, time simply seemed to be moving much more quickly for him.
He wasn't the only one. The rotting corpses of Pierre, Kait and Scarlett appeared at the end of the bed, crawling past Avery towards Tasha. She tried to twist away, but of course she couldn't. They were moving so quickly, much faster than they ever had before... Their faces were right in front of her, twisted and cruel...
And then they disappeared, all four of them. All that was left, as Tasha's eyes came to rest on the ceiling, were more words, this time appearing to have been carved with a knife rather than bleeding out of the surface. "I'M STILL WAITING."
Could these words, then, be real? Tasha blinked... and they were gone. This time, it was all gone. Nothing remained but the room as it had appeared before all of this began.
She couldn't scream. She didn't have the energy, couldn't fight off the drugs to the point where she would be able to scream. All she could was let a few tears fall silently down her cheeks as she waited in paralysing fear for the next nightmare to arrive.
Absently, she wished there was a television or something in the room.
There was a crackling sound at the edge of her mind, like static. It was gradually growing louder. Something strange was happening to her vision. It was going foggy, fading in and out. As if another image wanted to superimpose itself over the one that she was seeing now.
With a snap, it resolved itself, and Tasha wanted to close her eyes to shut it out, but she couldn't. Something kept them open. The words "IT'S ME" were appearing in blood, covering the walls, the door, the ceiling. It was as if the very surfaces were bleeding.
And then they appeared. Claire and Jake. What were they doing in her room? They had never appeared this way before... Their backs were facing her, but every now and then one of them would turn away. They were distraught. At the very edge of Tasha's field of vision, she could just see what was upsetting them... Avery's body lying in a pool of blood issuing from the gash in his neck. There was blood everywhere. On the floor, on the walls, mixing in with the writing but never covering it completely. It was always there for her to see. And broken glass, broken glass everywhere. Claire was trying to stop the bleeding, but her movements were so strange. Then Tasha realised... they were backwards.
It was confirmed a moment later when Jake and Claire backed out of the room at a run, disappearing behind Tasha's head. Claire had stumbled, while Jake seemed to slide to his feet before disappearing. For a few moments, Avery just lay there, the blood seeping back inside. Tasha's heart leapt in her chest as his body suddenly rose off the floor, defying gravity to perch on the table by her bed. He was surrounded by ghostly shards of glass in a phantom window frame, digging into his hands as the blood flowed back into them. His body was heaving with coughs, each one seeming to suck blood off the walls to flow back into his wound. More and more, faster and faster, until in a swift and horrible motion a knife flew into his hand from the floor and he ripped it across his neck, closing the wound as a spray of blood was sucked back in at the last moment. Then he leapt backwards out of the window and replaced the knife. It faded away as soon as he let it go, and he seemed confused and panicked for a moment before running backwards out of her vision. A few moments later, the shards of glass flew into the window frame and reformed, and that too disappeared. The writing on the walls still remained.
Then she could see herself leaning against the wall. She was wearing her long, black PVC dress, which she quickly removed along with her bra. She wasn't wearing any panties. The only things she was wearing now were her boots. The motion was odd... she wasn't getting undressed, after all. She was seeing herself get dressed, backwards. A gaping wound could be seen in her breast, and a similar wound on her thigh. They were exactly the places that she had cut herself, and had Jack cut her when she had fucked him, but these wounds were deep and terrible. Blood was flowing up her legs and over her stomach, back into the wet, glistening wounds. After a moment Jack approached, also naked, licking blood onto his fingers. He was walking forwards, but originally, he had backed away from her... he pressed his fingers against the wound on Tasha's breast, and they came away clean. They exchanged a few words, their naked bodies close together, before Jack nipped her neck. A few more words, and Jack lifted Tasha off the ground, his hands on her arse, and slid his glisteningly wet cock inside her. Immediately they were arching back in orgasm, Tasha's thighs quivering against Jack as he held her tight. It would have been enough to make the real Tasha very wet if it hadn't been so dreadfully wrong to watch the scene unfold backwards, the writing on the wall smearing behind the two as they thrusted, and the blood still flowing freely up to the illusory Tasha's wounds. Her own knife flew up from the ground into Jack's hand, and he ran it along Tasha's thigh, the last of the blood on her leg flowing back into the wound as he closed it. The knife was passed back to Tasha, and then his hand was inside her, playing with her clit piercing as he slammed her against the wall. Jack shifted himself and leaned down to suck at the wound on Tasha's breast, the blood around his lips gone when he pulled away. Then there was the knife in Tasha's hand, closing her flesh so that not a hint of the wound remained as she slipped the switchblade back into her boot. They were kissing at biting at each other now, still pounding all the while, until finally, Jack pulled his throbbing erection out of her. Tasha was still wet, pressing herself up against Jack. But then his trousers raised from the ground to cover him, Tasha's hands seeming to do up the clasp of his belt before Jack somehow replaced her torn knickers. She was still pressed against the wall, smearing the bloody writing as Jack pressed against her, but the smears were resolving themselves back into words, now. Tasha's dress rose to cover her hips, and Jack spun her around, his back now to the wall instead of hers. And then they were scratching at each other, both of them dragging their nails down each other's backs, the bloody trails disappearing. Finally, Tasha replaced Jack's shirt, and his hands and mouth explored her breasts. That came to an end to as her bra reappeared, and she pulled on her gloves. They exchanged a few more words as Jack zipped up her dress, then kissed her savagely, his hand in her hair. They both made a strange motion with their feet, and then two cigarettes flew back into their hands, and they exited the scene, always walking backwards, the smoke flowing from the air and into their mouths.
The phantom Tasha wasn't gone for long, though. She reappeared dressed in a sultry, low-cut white dress, a triumphantly cruel expression on her face as she spoke to Avery. The images were moving further and further into the past... this was Jack's birthday party. Words were being exchanged. Avery moved closer to Tasha, when in reality, he had been backing away. It was almost cruel to see in this way, to think that in another world, Avery might have succumbed and let Tasha seduce him...
She might have been living in the mansion in Cape Town now, rather than stuck here in what amounted to little more than a prison cell. Hell, even in prison you didn't get tied to the bed.
Avery was looking around nervously, trying to find Jake or Jack. But Tasha wasn't taking no for an answer, licking her lips suggestively as she stroked Avery's thigh. She was pressed up close against him, the Fitzwilliam necklace glittering even in the dull light of the hospital room. Then she backed away a little, and disappeared, as did Avery.
Nothing. Nobody there. Only the words on the wall remained. The strange static filled her ears once more, and again, her vision altered strangely. As if shifting to another order of reality.
She blinked, and then he was there. Avery, on the end of her bed. Blood was pouring from the stitches in his neck, pooling at her feet. From his eyes, too, as he cried bloody tears. The scratches on his arms matched Tasha's, slash for slash. He breath was rapid, much faster than could possibly occur naturally. He was barely moving, but wavering in such a way as people did who were trying too hard to remain still. It wasn't that, though. Again, time simply seemed to be moving much more quickly for him.
He wasn't the only one. The rotting corpses of Pierre, Kait and Scarlett appeared at the end of the bed, crawling past Avery towards Tasha. She tried to twist away, but of course she couldn't. They were moving so quickly, much faster than they ever had before... Their faces were right in front of her, twisted and cruel...
And then they disappeared, all four of them. All that was left, as Tasha's eyes came to rest on the ceiling, were more words, this time appearing to have been carved with a knife rather than bleeding out of the surface. "I'M STILL WAITING."
Could these words, then, be real? Tasha blinked... and they were gone. This time, it was all gone. Nothing remained but the room as it had appeared before all of this began.
She couldn't scream. She didn't have the energy, couldn't fight off the drugs to the point where she would be able to scream. All she could was let a few tears fall silently down her cheeks as she waited in paralysing fear for the next nightmare to arrive.
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