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Old 9th March 2013, 05:48 PM
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Default Alone In The Dark (fan fic)

After many years of fanfiction, here is my first PCBH story...



Alone in the dark


She pressed her back more tightly against the wall and listened. Her eyes were keen and her jaw hung slightly ajar, breaths coming softly and quickly. She listened to those breaths, each one causing a ripple of agonies to course through her ribcage.

She had only been out of the infirmary for a week and her wounds were still very fresh. Her chest matched the blue denim that encased her and her right eye was as black as her mood. Slim fingers nervously toyed with the stitches that nestled in the hair of her eyebrow. How long had she been here? A little over a month and already that eyebrow had been split open three times.

A sound. Dear God, she was coming again. A whimper carried itself on one shallow breath and her nervously toying hand darted to her mouth to cover her fear. She couldn’t fight back, she couldn’t. Her body wasn’t up to it, Hell, even standing racked her with pain… but stand she’d have to. Stand up and fight.

It was night time, she knew that. Not that there were any lights here in the solitary wing to indicate that… but she knew it was night time by the silence. She knew, much as SHE tried to fool her. Meals coming randomly or not at all… sleep being interrupted. She almost laughed to herself. Sleep? The thought’d be a fine thing! These days she kept herself awake without any outside help.

Days, weeks… they muddled and merged into one constant nightmare of hours and minutes. She counted her time here not in days, but in the colours that cascaded across her face in the guise of bruising… pinks; reds; puce; purple, blue; black; green; yellow; on and on in an endless cycle of pain.

But she couldn’t – wouldn’t – give in. Perhaps she should have bided her time back in Wentworth. Maybe even been the person that Desmond thought she could be.
Once was.
Honest and good, but… things happened. Life happened and all of it just went to Hell in the end. Nineteen years old with a fifteen year prison sentence hanging over her head. Years. A lifetime. A lifetime to think and to dwell… what might have been and what was. Poor Phyllis rotting away in an institution, a vegetable. And Bobbie. Bobbie’s baby.

Another whimper left her throat before she could stifle it and then she heard the security gate sliding open. She used the wall to aid her climb to her feet, inwardly screaming at the electric pain in her ribcage.

Footsteps. Soft, padding… quiet and slow like the Freak. She listened to each one until they stopped outside the door. Every night the same thoughts hit her as fast as the crash that took her brother away. Would she die tonight? Here, alone in the dark? In the solitary pit of Blackmoor, the Black Hole? Black Hole…. So named because one got lost in here, lost forever and no one, not a single bloody person would know or care!

The door opened and there she stood – the Leach. Tall and broad and as immobile and invincible as God himself.
“Ah, I see you’re awake Kean.”

Reb said nothing. She could almost make out the woman’s smirk from here.

“How’re those ribs healing, hmm? Such a pity about that.”

“Bitch.”

“Now now… that’s not very nice, is it?”

Cynthia Leach came closer now, her voice heavy and dark as bitumen. It left the air tasting like blood and Reb nearly gagged from the fear that grew in the pit of her gut.
“Thought you’d got rid of me didn’t you?” Cynthia purred, as her gloved fingers stroked Reb’s chin.

“I guess you’re just lucky.” Reb replied, summoning her courage.

“Unfortunately you’re not.” She said in flat tones. “In fact, I’d be surprised if you made it through the night alive.”


Screwbaiter
Mar 2013
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