From the Grasp of Nightmares: An OitM Fanfic

“Perhaps.” Miranda watched the emerald hair swinging beyond the bus’s closing doors, and somehow felt that its owner was walking to her doom. She wanted to say something more, but the bus was already moving forward.1

And she wasn’t on it.2

“Perhaps… there is color.”3

Sabina Vesston… It was a fitting name, a fitting name indeed.4

Actually, Sabrina reminded her of --5

No. She wasn’t even going to go there. Because, as anyone who had suffered like she did would know, some things are better left forgotten.6

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It was cold, unbearably cold. The blanket did nothing to change that. And so, she found herself going down to the fireplace, watching the flames flickering in the darkness.8

She had had no choice.9

Fire was a curious thing. It could be a friend or an enemy. It had a variety of colors, each casting a strange glow against the wood.10

And, worst of all, it took the memories -- ~those~ memories – out of hiding, and planted them firmly in her mind. They had never truly been forgotten, simply in hiding, behind a fraying curtain she did not dare to approach.11

But the flames had consumed the curtain, and the monsters were rushing forward like wildfire.12

They were going to devour her.13

Miranda felt a gob of saliva rise in her throat, and suddenly felt very small. She didn’t care how cold it was. She could not stay here, by the fire, by the colors – by the monsters. Not any longer.14

She would run, like the coward she was, and pretend she had been in bed all along. She would clutch her black coat close, and deny the existence of everything lurking beyond the frayed curtain.15

But the curtain was gone.16

No – she would rebuild it. She would reconstruct it, remake it, redefine it. It had been destroyed many times in the past, and she had always been able to bring it back. This time would be no different.17

Running could only save her for so long, that she knew. But it was all she knew how to do.18

And run she did.19

She had flown up the stairs, passed her bedroom, heart pounding, sweat thick on her forehead, still running, because thedarknesswasthereanditwascomingforherblood.20

It was a little funny – usually she embraced the darkness, rather than be taken over by the illusions of color cast by the light. Now, she was being hunted, and the darkness scared her.21

But the light was just as terrifying.22

What can one do when both the light and dark are hostile? There is nowhere to go. That was why she was running endlessly, searching for a place of safety that didn’t exist.23

~Brrinng!~24

Miranda nearly had a heart attack. Then she realized that it was just the phone. Fingers trembling, she took it out from the pocket of her coat, and answered the call.25

“Hello? This is Miranda Singer.”26

Her voice was shaky and childish, slurring clumsily upon her onyx-dipped lips, like that of a three-year-old who had just experienced her first nightmare.27

“Miranda? Is something wrong?” the person on the other end chirped, sounding concerned.28

“…Aelin?” Miranda asked after a bit, starting to recover from her shock. “Why did you call me?”29

“I wanted to ask if you would come with Wef and me to the mall tomorrow,” the voice replied. It was undeniably Aelin. “Well, will you? Wef said she saw the man with the faerie wings again, and we’re going to stalk him.”30

“…” Miranda stole a glance at the clock. It was two in the morning. “And you couldn’t have waited a few hours to ask me this?” she growled, disturbed that they would interrupt her sleep for something so trivial.31

“Sorry,” said Aelin, not sounding sorry at all. “But is something wrong? Your voice sounded kind of weird earlier.”32

“Nothing’s wrong,” Miranda snapped, not wanting to be reminded. “Go to bed. Don’t you know what time it is?”33

“I have coffee and radioactive muffins,” was the reply. That seemed to suffice. “So… will you come with us tomorrow?”34

“No.” Miranda hung up the phone.35

Then everything was silent. It was the treasured kind of silence, quiet and peaceful, as opposed to the type that gives off a sense of danger lurking about.36

“Good night,” she said finally, to no one in particular.37

And she went back to bed.38

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“There he is!” Wef screamed, nearly hyperventilating. “Sir Fox of the Dan of the Faerie people!”40

“Yay!” said Aelin.41

Miranda sipped at her coffee, rather unenthusiastic about the whole thing. She had come, of course, as Wef and Aelin knew she would. She always came.42

“Darn,” Wef said suddenly.43

Miranda looked up, surprised. That wasn’t like Wef. Wef was never discouraged. She was always hyperactive, and happy, and insane. What tragic event could have occurred to wipe off the smile of The One They Call Wef!?44

“What happened?”45

“I forgot my camera,” Wef sniffed.46

“…” Miranda decided she would just concentrate on her coffee.47

“SIR FOX OF THE DAN OF THE FAERIE PEOPLE!!” Aelin belted out suddenly. “I’ve been dying to meet you! Can I have your autograph?”48

Everyone at the mall stopped and stared for a moment, but then they dismissed her as someone with a mental disorder and returned to their business.49

One befuddled-looking man came over to them slowly, like he wasn’t sure it was safe to get so close to the wild crazy freaks more commonly known as Wef and Aelin. Miranda didn’t blame him. “Um… Do you mean me?”50

“You are Sir Fox of the Dan of the Faerie People, are you not?” Aelin asked in a far more composed voice.51

“He is! He is!” shrieked Wef, jumping up and down with uncontainable excitement. “I have been waiting to learn of your ways!”52

Dan Fox cringed, vaguely remembering her as the girl who had stalked him in a costume store a while back. “Oh… student…”53

“Teach me!!” wailed Aelin, feeling left out.54

“LONG LIVE THE FAERIE PEOPLE!” Wef belted out randomly, and in seconds, the unfortunate Dan Fox found himself suffering from the effects of massive glompage.55

Miranda took the last sip of coffee and handed her cup to the victim of her companions’ interest. “Later,” she said, walking off to find people who knew the meaning of sanity.56

Dan Fox stared at the cup shoved into his hands, and yelped as he was tackled by two girls who were in dire need of a therapist.57

“A CUP TOUCHED BY SIR FOX OF THE DAN!”58

Miranda rubbed her head. She needed an aspirin.59

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Two days had passed since the incident involving Dan Fox, and Waterstone Academy was currently in session.61

“Miranda,” the teacher called, eyes scanning the classroom.62

“She’s absent,” said the girl at the desk next to Miranda’s.63

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The church was just up ahead, and soon she would be in the shade, protected from the unmerciful sun by the foliage of the tree branches lining the path.65

Miranda Singer had never cut class before. She hadn’t been the type to cut class, simply because she had nothing worth cutting class for. But now, she had something she needed to see. It might not be worth anything, but then, it wouldn’t take away anything of worth, either. School didn’t matter to people like her. ~Life~ didn’t matter.66

If she found something – something that actually mattered, that would be worth everything she possessed.67

And so she had come, her boots crunching on the pavement, a purpose wielding itself in her cloudy grey eyes. There was a certain shine to her platinum blonde hair, a shine that contrasted starkly against its black streaks. She hadn’t forgotten what she and Haruka had spoken of before.68

“God!” Miranda had said. “That’s why you’re always so happy: you want to spread your magical God everywhere. I’d be bright and perky if I was disillusioned by fantasies of Gods as well. But I know the difference between such things now.”69

“W-what such things?”70

“Like what we see and what is. Do you know what makes color? It’s light, deflecting off of different surfaces.71

In different lights, there are different colors: which one is right? No light, no color -- which leaves things as they really are: nothing. In the darkness, there are no illusions of color: just what is scattered across the floor.”72

“But -- then how do you explain your smile earlier?”73

“Illusions are nice at times,” Miranda had whispered, and walked away before Haruka could say anything more. She hadn’t wanted to listen to anything the Tsumizaki had to say.74

That had been a long time ago, but the words were stuck in her brain. They were responsible for her cutting class.75

Words were powerful things.76

“Tsumi,” said Miranda quietly, “I hope you’re right.”77

She walked up to the front doors and wrapped her fingers around the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge. It was locked. Like the door inside her.78

She lifted her hand to rap at the door, and after a couple knocks, decided that no one was inside. She might as well go home – if she went to school now, she would only be yelled at for being so late.79

She had just turned and was taking the first couple steps back down the path when the door swung open behind her.80

“Were you knocking just now?” someone asked.81

“…Yes,” Miranda said, turning around.82

“Are you a high-schooler? You should be in class now, shouldn’t you?”83

Her eyes widened in alarm.84

He smiled, trying to be friendly. “Don’t worry… You can come in, if you want. That is why you were knocking, I presume?”85

She nodded wordlessly and followed him into the building as quietly as possible, not wanting to taint the air with her words.86

“I’m the assistant pastor, in case you were wondering,” he said briefly as they entered the sanctuary. “I come here sometimes to prepare my sermons… This atmosphere is nice. It’s very quiet, and nothing disrupts my work.”87

“I see,” she murmured politely. “It is very nice in here. I think I can see why people come here every week.”88

He swiveled to face her, and something in his eyes told her that she had said something wrong.89

She gulped, a stream of dry air passing through her throat. “I’m sorry,” she said hastily, although she wasn’t sure what exactly she was apologizing for. “Did I offend you?”90

“People don’t come to church because of this building,” he said seriously. “That’s materialistic. People come here to worship God. We would still meet here if we had to meet in a leaky old house made of cardboard.”91

Miranda looked down at her feet. “Sorry,” she repeated.92

“Do you know what you’re sorry for?”93

“For saying church is about this building?”94

“Don’t ask. You know. Say it like you know it.”95

“For saying church is about this building.” She stopped looking at her feet, because she knew she was right this time.96

“That’s correct,” he said, grinning warmly. “I’ll leave you to do as you like.”97

He had barely started to walk away when she found her voice.98

“Sir…”99

“Hmm?” he asked.100

“Sir, I’m an atheist,” she stated. The words sounded crooked in her mouth.101

“Oh, are you?” His eyes twinkled. “And what might you be doing here?”102

Miranda fell silent. She had no answer to that.103

Her eyes fell to a leather-bound Bible, and suddenly a sharp pang shot through her chest, causing an acid tear to form in her eye, stinging her cheek as it left her mascara-smeared lashes.104

Lightning had struck. The tree had fallen.105

“I have to go now,” she stammered, and rushed home.106

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It was all too familiar. The Bible had looked just like the one ~she~ had carried. Miranda gasped at the one she had allowed herself to think of. All of this was going to far. She couldn’t allow herself to think of ~her~… She didn’t want to remember. Once someone dies, keeping memories of his – ~her~ -- life is only unnecessary pain.108

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“Sabrina?”110

The emerald-head turned, surprised, to find Miranda standing behind her. “Yes?”111

“Do you remember what you told me? About… mirror reflections?” the goth asked hesitantly. “And… beauty greater than what we can see?”112

Sabrina blinked, surprised. “Yes,” she said. Her face brightened. “Do you want to talk about it?”113

Miranda shifted her foot a bit uneasily. “Well… if you want to…”114

Sabrina took that as a yes.115

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It was cold, unbearably cold. The cold had driven Miranda down to sit by the fireplace again, despite what had happened the last time she had come here. She had had no choice.117

The flames danced like leaves in the twisting wind, and she found that she couldn’t look away from them. Suddenly they had captured the fraying curtain, and it was going up in flames.118

The same thing was happening all over again.119

The monsters were rushing forward like wildfire, and she was too tired to even attempt to run. Fear seized her with an iron grip. She knew that nothing could save her now.120

“No,” she choked out weakly, her eyes scrunching themselves shut.121

Then they were upon her.122

Slowly, her eyes came open, and she found that the monsters could not touch her. She was safe. She was protected now.123

A smile crossed her face. She had decided that she liked being protected.