Hallucinations (Sylphie and Julian)

[Imara Sophia "Immie" Deveroux]

” Il est un chien!” Imara Sophia Deveroux shrieked in French at the top of her lungs as she backed fearfully out of the room. Her eyes were wide and she was very far from happy. In fact, the look on her face was one that hadn’t been seen there since she had learned how to slice skin like paper beneath her knives. It was plain and simple fear, and it was the wide eyed type that she hated on other people. Only one thing could bring this out in the sadistic little killer. And she was staring at it. Her tulle red skirt caught on a nail in the door, but she didn’t notice even when it ripped which was unlike the little girl who was always so careful with her skirts. The knife in her hand was mostly forgotten.

She had been having her fun, entered another room for something she had now entirely forgotten about, and seen this. Her arms were covered in fresh blood but did it really matter? She was too focused on other things. Like the Doberman Pincher that was licking his lips at her. Her red eyes were wild, she was losing the little bit of sanity she held on to as she stumbled back. ”Julian!” she yelled again, her voice accusing as she tried to hide her fear. Her French accent was thicker than usual because she was scared. She blamed him. This dog might be part of his stupid affinity or something, and if he was using it on her she’d kill him.

She didn’t know it was her own schizophrenia acting up, there was no dog, but he was very real to her. Her senses were flooded with the fact that there was a giant dog in the room, and he wanted to kill her.

Just like he killed Papa.

She screamed then, turned on her heel and ran. ” Il va me tuer! Il va me tuer!” she shrieked repeatedly as she ran, but then it was in front of her again and she skidded to a stop. It was hard, after all, to escape something that was entirely a hallucination in one’s one mind. And Immie’s hallucinations, while they usually granted her visions of her dead family, sometimes decided to torture her instead. This was one of those times, but she was so caught up in it that she didn’t even think it may be all in her head. She usually could tell the difference well enough to ignore it, but this was one thing that didn’t matter. ” Laissez! Tu baises chose!” she screamed as she managed to halt her mad run. She backed away slowly from it this time, hesitantly.

Immie had always been afraid of dogs. It had gotten worse recently, but she had always been afraid of them. She had been bit as a child and the fear had stayed with her through her adolescence and the beginning of her teenage years, and she did mean beginning by that. Then when she was fourteen, she had seen this very dog that was growling and glaring at her rip out her father’s throat before her sister had managed to close the door on another. And then another group of them had managed to corner her and was what had gotten her sent here and away from her home and everything she knew, and by extention her sister. She was convinced her sister was alive somewhere, but that was not the point she was currently trying to make.

Even though Immie had become quite the little sadistic badass that appeared more insane than was probably good for her. Even though Immie was the one that killed others and never showed a shard of fear, dogs made her revert back to that scared fourteen year old who knew her parents were dead because she had seen and heard it, knew she and her sister were next, and had no idea what had happened to her sweet baby brothers. She was right back to that person who wasn’t strong, who didn’t know how to kill and didn’t have the stomach for it, back to that little girl who only wanted to fall in love and find her fairytale, not the one she was now who wanted to kill those who had turned her life into this and hiding who she was from everyone.

It was all because of the dogs in her twisted logic. Immie wasn’t very sane after all, that ship had sailed a while ago. She didn’t know how to make sense of certain things anymore. ”No…no no no no no no…” she repeated, backing up again. To anyone else, it looked like there was nothing there, just Immie freaking out about nothing, but oh no, no, no. To her it was very real. She could practically taste it’s blood on it’s breath. And in her head it was her father’s blood. It killed her Papa, as far as she was concerned. She had loved her father, he had always told her she was perfect, that her weird little obsessions were a sign of her being a Saphiria, not her being a little freak like a bunch of her classmates used to say about her they thought she couldn’t hear. Back then she brushed it off, she knew she was perfect. But now? She would have killed them. Times changed.

She screamed again when it took a step closer to her. ”Reculez! Laissez-moi tranquille! ” And then she turned, and ran again, heading for the door this time. She was not going to stick around in the Nightmare house if there was a dog hanging around like that. No, no, she was gone, she was so gone. Out of that house. She’d go back when Julian got him out. Not a moment sooner, no, not at all. She stopped on the other side of the door, remembering her bloody knife and clutching it now, chest heaving from running though it was hard to tell around the tight red corset she wore that set off the red of her eyes. She turned, looking back at the door and saw the dog, though no one else would. ”Julian, faire sortir!” she yelled into the house. And then she realized she had been speaking in French the entire time, and that Julian couldn’t understand what she would have been going on about. He didn’t speak her native tongue.

It was troublesome sometimes.

She backed up then, being wary not to fall backwards off the steps at all, staying on the porch of the old Victorian house carefully. She called in English this time, hating the way that English felt all harsh and barbaric against her tongue after her own French which flowed so beautifully from her mouth. She had only learned it because she had needed people to understand her here. ”Julian! The dog! Make it go away!” she screamed into the house. She had no idea where Julian was, but she figured he had to hear her. Hell, the whole neighborhood could probably hear her shrieking, she wasn’t exactly being discrete about it. And then it took a step forward and she screamed, stumbling back and clutching the support beams on the porch to keep from falling onto the ground below the stairs.

Stupid dog! Stupid maudit dog!

Words: 1325
Muse: Epic
Comments: The French is as follows, if its off blame the translator I used lol I'm not sure it matters who posts next
Il est un chien! = There is a dog!
Il va me tuer! = Its going to kill me!
Laissez! Tu baises chose! = Leave! You fucking thing!
Reculez! Laissez-moi tranquille! = Get back! Leave me alone!

[Sylphie Saphiria]

Now was one of those rare moments in life where Sylph was forcing herself to stay calm, not go running, and walk. Why was she having such difficulty to refrain herself when it usually came so easily to her was simple: Her little sister was found. What on earth little Anna was doing in a town like this was beyond Sylphie, but it didn't matter. Not at the slightest. What mattered, was getting to her sister. Sylphie didn't exactly know what she would do when she saw her sister again, all she could really wrap her mind around was the urgent need to get to her little sister. She had no idea what she wanted to say to her sister, what she wanted to tell her, she just knew she wanted to get to her nutty little sister she had missed so much. The last of her family, the only one she had left. She was so close, what she had been waiting for, year after year, and now she was so close! Had she been any younger, Sylphie would have undoubtedly started squealing and jumping up and down all the way to the fancy car Andre had bought for her. Sylphie didn't much care for the car, to be perfectly honest. What she did care about, was that it was amazingly fast, had a lot of mileage, and could stash her weapons rather well. she sped down the road in the speedy little car, forcing herself to stop for all stop-signs and red lights along the way. Because if she got a ticket now of all times, she would undoubtedly scream a wordless shriek and blow a hole in the head of whoever had pulled her over. Yes, this sounded very up-tight and completely unlike Sylphie, but if you had been through all Sylphie had and were in her situation now, wouldn't you do the same?

What would she possibly do, being reunited with her sister? Tell her sister of her plans to hunt down and destroy the men that ruined their lives? Sylph wasn't sure, would her sweet and innocent little sister be able to handle such news? Or a better question, would her sister recognise her with her dark-ringed eyes and black clothing? To Sylphie, whenever she looked in a mirror, she could never recognise herself as the old Sylphie. Would her sister still be able to recognise her, even given such a dramatic change in appearance? Sylphie frowned as that thought passed through her head. It would upset her if her sister didn't recognise her. She actually wasn't sure how she would handle it, if her sister didn't know it was her. Would she be able to stay calm and remind her little sister of who she was? But then...

There was also the chance that Andre had made a horrible mistake and this "Imara" was simply a girl who looked surprisingly enough like her Anna, but wasn't really her. If that were the case, Sylphie may have to kill the girl, just to vent her frustrations, then call up Andre and scream at him about it. Would she be able to handle such crushing news? Sylphie doubted it, but she knew if she wasn't without her perfect calm cool indifference, it would be much more difficult for her sister to recognise her. Because all through her life, Sylphie never let anyone see her without her calm, cool attitude. Growing up, Sylphie had almost been the physical embodiment of calm. Of course, that was no longer the case. But that was part of what worried Sylphie. She had changed so drastically. She doubted her sister had not changed as well, but... Sylphie was in a worrying state of mind, would be the simplest explanation. She was on the verge of panic due to her level of excitement that she didn't know what to do with all the energy. The excess energy just so happened to have found it's vent through her nearly panicked state of mind. Her nails were digging into her palms as she gripped the weel of her car and sped down the road, allowing the car's GPS to order her as to which turns to take. It had been specially programmed for french of course. Despite all her time in america, Sylphie still missed the orchards and beauty france had to offer. She would return there some day, even if it was for the sole purpose of killing those who ruined her happiness, but it was still a promise to herself to return.

Abîme, curled up on the seat beside her, mewled, stealing Sylphie's focus away from the road for the slightest moment. Her little feline managed to calm her down slightly... And thinking more on it, Sylphie was glad she had brought her. Abîme looked so much like Aurore did after all, the only real difference between her old kitten and her new cat was that her Aurore's eyes had been golden as the sun while her Abîme's eyes were silver like the moonlight. Anna would remember Sylphie's Aurore, wouldn't she? Oh, what did it matter, all fretting aside, Sylphie pulled the car to a park and snatched up her furry kitty who mewled in protest to being lifted before opening her car door, pulling her keys out of the ignition and stepping out of the car, shutting the door and locking the metal contraption behind her. Slipping the set of keys into her pocket, Sylphie readjusted her hold on her furry feline and made her way over to where... someone was screaming about a dog. The voice scratched deep gashes into Sylphie's memory, she knew that voice, she was almost positive she knew that voice.

Picking up her pace, Sylphie took off into a slight jog over to where the screaming came from to see... Anna?! It had to be Anna... But what was she screaming at? Sylphie stayed on the sidewalk, turning her pearl black eyes from the empty doorway to the girl who looked so much like her little sister Sylphie was almost positive it was her... But she had to ask, just to be sure.

"Anna? Petite sœur? Est-ce vous? Que faites-vous hurler sur les?" There was nothing there... just the girl who looked all too much like Anna in the yard. Sylphie didn't quite understand, so she waited on her reply.

Translation: Anna? Little sister? Is that you? What are you shrieking about?
Outfit: See manip ^-^