Post by Helena Sawyer on Sept 24, 2016 1:09:04 GMT
Michelle walked into the dusty, long-abandoned cell, breathing a quiet thanks for the isolation. The old asylum wasn't very well-trafficked, and that gave her room to work. She set down the equipment cases in her hands, slinging her backpack off her back and taking a moment to revel in the weight being relieved from her body. She cracked her knuckles, rolling her neck to pull out any tension as she knelt down and opened the equipment cases. A video camera, a tripod, lights, a small generator...she nodded, double-checking that each piece of her equipment was present as she pulled it free and began setting it up.
The equipment flew into place with a swift, practiced ease, waiting only for the switch to be thrown. The lights would flick on, and the camera would begin its watch. Michelle took a deep breath, hand idly snagging her backpack as she exited and walked down the hall. All she needed was a reflective surface...just something to check herself in...there. The mirror was still intact in that cell, miraculously. Unmarred by graffiti, unshattered...oddly pristine in a place like this so long ago abandoned to the elements.
"Lucky me." Michelle smirked, muttering to herself as she unzipped the backpack, withdrawing its contents. A white patient's gown, scuffed, dirtied, and torn. A broken set of manacles. A straitjacket. And...there it was. The facepaint. The dividing line between Michelle and Helena. She took a deep breath, looking around and listening carefully. Nobody else was in the wing, or if they were they were trying to be quiet. It was enough privacy for what she needed. Michelle turned and looked back at the case that held the facepaint, setting it on the windowsill and cracking it open with her thumbs.
She inhaled deeply, holding the breath for a moment as her eyes played over the reds, the black and white, all the other colors that so rarely got used. "Maybe some day," Michelle mumbled. "Not today, though. I don't need to find someone else...I need Helena, and Helena knows what she likes." She cast a quick glance over to the mirror, tilting her head. "Doesn't she?"
The smile that crept over her face wasn't her own. The throaty chuckle that escaped her lips wasn't her own. And the reply that followed, like the laugh, seemed alien to her, like she was serving as a conduit for some foreign mind. "Hehehe...yes, sweet girl. Yes...she...does."
It was time to work. No sense in waiting.
The light swings from the ceiling by a wire, half-stripped and gnawed away, flickering and casting shadows as it lazily loops through its arc. Helena sits, propped up as if posed, against the back wall, head low as she speaks, cradling something from the camera. Her voice is hesitant at first, tentatively grasping for its words.
"I...I don't know what to say. It's such an honor. To be invited like this...for someone to reach out, down into the black and show me that there's a path to the light...I feel so blessed! Is this the salvation they always talked about? The Sister Superior said that an open heart was the first step to God's forgiveness..."
She looks up slowly, an eager smile on her face, and raises her hands to reveal a human heart, split down the middle with surgical care. Helena slowly tilts her head, offering the heart to the camera.
"What should I do next? I mean...I don't know how to find God's love, so I can't fill my heart with that...no, no...this isn't about love, is it? It's about things you can hold in your hands, things you can touch...things you can reach for..."
The heart tumbles from her hands, rolling on the floor. Helena shifts to her knees, looking up at the light with lidded eyes and a reverent expression on her face. She reaches up towards the bulb, hands still stained with blood.
"Reach out and grasp it...take it for yourself. It's not yours, but it can be. All you have to do is be ready to hurt everyone around you. Take away their dream, take away their hope...make it yours. Possession is nine-tenths of the law, that's what they told me. Does that mean exorcists are thieves?"
She tilts her head, taking her chin in her fingers and pondering the statement. Helena shakes her head, smiling, and shakes her hands out, snapped manacles dangling from each wrist.
"No, that's not right. No time for questions like that...no, this isn't about hiding in the dark anymore. These are the brightest lights, blinding us with fortune and fame and fantastic flights of fancy! This...this little light isn't going to be enough for me anymore..."
Helena stands up, looking at the light with a curious expression. She grabs the base of the bulb, arresting its movement, and stares into the light for a few moments. Her eyes track over it, before she abruptly turns and throws the bulb towards the wall with a shriek. The lightbulb smashes into the wall, exploding and guttering with a flicker, leaving Helena plunged into blackness. Her voice echoes from the dark, seeming to jump around the room as she speaks.
"But what if I like the dark? What if I don't want to leave? I'd have to change...I'd have to become different. That's not fun...but...I guess...if it's what I have to do..."
The sound of snapping fingers cracks through the blackness, and lights spring up. Helena is clinging to the camera with both hands, looking right down the lens with a delightedly unhinged grin.
"It's what I have to do! Because pain...pain teaches. Pain is the greatest teacher of all, because pain makes us push! And this is going to make a lot of people push. Do you want it? Do you want that weight on your shoulders, on your soul? How much are you willing to suffer, and to make those around you suffer, to bear that burden? It's a terrible privilege, and it seems like it's been weighing down the same tortured soul...for an Eternity."
Helena giggles self-indulgently at her own joke, sitting down cross-legged and bringing the camera down with her. She looks down into it, watching it as if she expects it to leap up and bite her.
"I want it. I want to suffer the slings and arrows of that outRAGEOUS fortune. I need it. Deep in my heart, it's like someone...cut off my hand, a long time ago...and I'm being given a chance to put it back where it belongs. But I haven't forgotten its strength, oh no, and I'm going to need it. Lift them all, carry the weight, baptize them anew and let them be reborn in the warm embrace of blissful agony!"
Helena smiles, eyes rolling back as she sighs contentedly at the thought. The camera slowly raises, climbing above her head as she looks back up at it, seemingly growing furious.
"But it's not! That! Simple! It's not just about teaching them, it's about the priiiiize. It's about your reward for all your hard work, all your tears of service. I want to show you...show everyone...because that's what I am. I'm a giver, really. A charitable soul, giving and giving and giving until they just can't take it anymore! And when I'm done giving...it's my turn to take. The crown jewel, the Diamond Prize! Ripe for the taking...if I just..."
She reaches up, raking at the camera lens with her free hand.
"Grab it. Yank it down, and wear it. On my waist, on my back, let it be a beacon to all who can see. Let it draw them in, like moths to a flame...so I can show them the way. Show them the pain and anguish that they have lacked for so long. Teach them...that just because they walk around with no restraints on their bodies..."
Helena looks at the cuff on her hand, smiling as she shakes her head. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply before looking back into the camera.
"That doesn't mean they're free. Leather and gold, blood, sweat and tears, toil and trouble...it'll all be there for the taking. All that needs to be done is...endure."
She winks into the camera, and we smash to black on a psychotic laugh that echoes into the night.
As the wipe lifted the last of the facepaint away, Michelle looked up into the mirror, exhaling slowly. It always took something out of her to get into Helena's head, but it felt rewarding. And with an opportunity like this on the line, she couldn't hold back. Not now, now when the whole world would be watching and judging. She had to bury her doubts as deep as she could, and just let things flow.
"Easier said than done," Michelle muttered to herself, popping the cuffs off of her wrists. She rubbed her wrists, grimacing slightly, and tossed them down into her bag. The dress came off, a hoodie and sweatpants came on, and the equipment was packed away as quickly as it had been set up. "Just let it come...can't get hung up on yourself now, girl. This is your chance to shock the world. Open their eyes, let them think about things...and become a champion in the going."
Taking a case in each hand, Michelle walked down the abandoned hallways, footfalls thudding against the concrete as she wound her way back towards the exit. Eerie silence hung in the air, punctuated only by her passage through the once-bustling corridors of the mental institution. Michelle breathed a quiet sigh of relief as she turned the last corner that led to the doors to the outside, unable to keep a smile from her face. "Finally, I can get out of here..."
As she rounded the corner, however, something caught the corner of her eye. Michelle's head snapped over to look down the distant corridor. There was a figure standing there, she was sure of it. A young girl, in a dress not too unlike the one she had been wearing only a few minutes beforehand, stood at the end of the hallway, stringy black hair obscuring her face. Her hands and feet were coated in grime, and her gaze was directed downward, almost consciously avoiding the possibility of eye contact. Concerned, Michelle called out to the girl. "Hey! Are you alright?"
The only sound that met her query was a soft giggling, like that of a young child. Michelle blinked, shaking her head, and when her eyes opened the girl was gone. Confused, she tried to call out to her again. "Hello? Hey, is anyone there?" Only silence greeted her, though, and Michelle shook her head ruefully. "Letting yourself get too deep again, champ," she chided herself. "Playtime's over. Gotta remember where the line is."
Turning for the door again, Michelle yanked the heavy metal obstruction open with a few loose fingers, using her boot to push it free the rest of the way. She took a deep breath as the fresh air hit her face, and smiled, kicking the door wide and stepping through. The door slowly began to swing shut, and Michelle walked free from the abandoned institute, never looking back...never seeing the figure who watched her, judging quietly, as the door slowly closed with an echoing thud.
She had no time to look back. The future was ahead of her, and she wasn't going to miss a single moment.
The equipment flew into place with a swift, practiced ease, waiting only for the switch to be thrown. The lights would flick on, and the camera would begin its watch. Michelle took a deep breath, hand idly snagging her backpack as she exited and walked down the hall. All she needed was a reflective surface...just something to check herself in...there. The mirror was still intact in that cell, miraculously. Unmarred by graffiti, unshattered...oddly pristine in a place like this so long ago abandoned to the elements.
"Lucky me." Michelle smirked, muttering to herself as she unzipped the backpack, withdrawing its contents. A white patient's gown, scuffed, dirtied, and torn. A broken set of manacles. A straitjacket. And...there it was. The facepaint. The dividing line between Michelle and Helena. She took a deep breath, looking around and listening carefully. Nobody else was in the wing, or if they were they were trying to be quiet. It was enough privacy for what she needed. Michelle turned and looked back at the case that held the facepaint, setting it on the windowsill and cracking it open with her thumbs.
She inhaled deeply, holding the breath for a moment as her eyes played over the reds, the black and white, all the other colors that so rarely got used. "Maybe some day," Michelle mumbled. "Not today, though. I don't need to find someone else...I need Helena, and Helena knows what she likes." She cast a quick glance over to the mirror, tilting her head. "Doesn't she?"
The smile that crept over her face wasn't her own. The throaty chuckle that escaped her lips wasn't her own. And the reply that followed, like the laugh, seemed alien to her, like she was serving as a conduit for some foreign mind. "Hehehe...yes, sweet girl. Yes...she...does."
It was time to work. No sense in waiting.
The light swings from the ceiling by a wire, half-stripped and gnawed away, flickering and casting shadows as it lazily loops through its arc. Helena sits, propped up as if posed, against the back wall, head low as she speaks, cradling something from the camera. Her voice is hesitant at first, tentatively grasping for its words.
"I...I don't know what to say. It's such an honor. To be invited like this...for someone to reach out, down into the black and show me that there's a path to the light...I feel so blessed! Is this the salvation they always talked about? The Sister Superior said that an open heart was the first step to God's forgiveness..."
She looks up slowly, an eager smile on her face, and raises her hands to reveal a human heart, split down the middle with surgical care. Helena slowly tilts her head, offering the heart to the camera.
"What should I do next? I mean...I don't know how to find God's love, so I can't fill my heart with that...no, no...this isn't about love, is it? It's about things you can hold in your hands, things you can touch...things you can reach for..."
The heart tumbles from her hands, rolling on the floor. Helena shifts to her knees, looking up at the light with lidded eyes and a reverent expression on her face. She reaches up towards the bulb, hands still stained with blood.
"Reach out and grasp it...take it for yourself. It's not yours, but it can be. All you have to do is be ready to hurt everyone around you. Take away their dream, take away their hope...make it yours. Possession is nine-tenths of the law, that's what they told me. Does that mean exorcists are thieves?"
She tilts her head, taking her chin in her fingers and pondering the statement. Helena shakes her head, smiling, and shakes her hands out, snapped manacles dangling from each wrist.
"No, that's not right. No time for questions like that...no, this isn't about hiding in the dark anymore. These are the brightest lights, blinding us with fortune and fame and fantastic flights of fancy! This...this little light isn't going to be enough for me anymore..."
Helena stands up, looking at the light with a curious expression. She grabs the base of the bulb, arresting its movement, and stares into the light for a few moments. Her eyes track over it, before she abruptly turns and throws the bulb towards the wall with a shriek. The lightbulb smashes into the wall, exploding and guttering with a flicker, leaving Helena plunged into blackness. Her voice echoes from the dark, seeming to jump around the room as she speaks.
"But what if I like the dark? What if I don't want to leave? I'd have to change...I'd have to become different. That's not fun...but...I guess...if it's what I have to do..."
The sound of snapping fingers cracks through the blackness, and lights spring up. Helena is clinging to the camera with both hands, looking right down the lens with a delightedly unhinged grin.
"It's what I have to do! Because pain...pain teaches. Pain is the greatest teacher of all, because pain makes us push! And this is going to make a lot of people push. Do you want it? Do you want that weight on your shoulders, on your soul? How much are you willing to suffer, and to make those around you suffer, to bear that burden? It's a terrible privilege, and it seems like it's been weighing down the same tortured soul...for an Eternity."
Helena giggles self-indulgently at her own joke, sitting down cross-legged and bringing the camera down with her. She looks down into it, watching it as if she expects it to leap up and bite her.
"I want it. I want to suffer the slings and arrows of that outRAGEOUS fortune. I need it. Deep in my heart, it's like someone...cut off my hand, a long time ago...and I'm being given a chance to put it back where it belongs. But I haven't forgotten its strength, oh no, and I'm going to need it. Lift them all, carry the weight, baptize them anew and let them be reborn in the warm embrace of blissful agony!"
Helena smiles, eyes rolling back as she sighs contentedly at the thought. The camera slowly raises, climbing above her head as she looks back up at it, seemingly growing furious.
"But it's not! That! Simple! It's not just about teaching them, it's about the priiiiize. It's about your reward for all your hard work, all your tears of service. I want to show you...show everyone...because that's what I am. I'm a giver, really. A charitable soul, giving and giving and giving until they just can't take it anymore! And when I'm done giving...it's my turn to take. The crown jewel, the Diamond Prize! Ripe for the taking...if I just..."
She reaches up, raking at the camera lens with her free hand.
"Grab it. Yank it down, and wear it. On my waist, on my back, let it be a beacon to all who can see. Let it draw them in, like moths to a flame...so I can show them the way. Show them the pain and anguish that they have lacked for so long. Teach them...that just because they walk around with no restraints on their bodies..."
Helena looks at the cuff on her hand, smiling as she shakes her head. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply before looking back into the camera.
"That doesn't mean they're free. Leather and gold, blood, sweat and tears, toil and trouble...it'll all be there for the taking. All that needs to be done is...endure."
She winks into the camera, and we smash to black on a psychotic laugh that echoes into the night.
As the wipe lifted the last of the facepaint away, Michelle looked up into the mirror, exhaling slowly. It always took something out of her to get into Helena's head, but it felt rewarding. And with an opportunity like this on the line, she couldn't hold back. Not now, now when the whole world would be watching and judging. She had to bury her doubts as deep as she could, and just let things flow.
"Easier said than done," Michelle muttered to herself, popping the cuffs off of her wrists. She rubbed her wrists, grimacing slightly, and tossed them down into her bag. The dress came off, a hoodie and sweatpants came on, and the equipment was packed away as quickly as it had been set up. "Just let it come...can't get hung up on yourself now, girl. This is your chance to shock the world. Open their eyes, let them think about things...and become a champion in the going."
Taking a case in each hand, Michelle walked down the abandoned hallways, footfalls thudding against the concrete as she wound her way back towards the exit. Eerie silence hung in the air, punctuated only by her passage through the once-bustling corridors of the mental institution. Michelle breathed a quiet sigh of relief as she turned the last corner that led to the doors to the outside, unable to keep a smile from her face. "Finally, I can get out of here..."
As she rounded the corner, however, something caught the corner of her eye. Michelle's head snapped over to look down the distant corridor. There was a figure standing there, she was sure of it. A young girl, in a dress not too unlike the one she had been wearing only a few minutes beforehand, stood at the end of the hallway, stringy black hair obscuring her face. Her hands and feet were coated in grime, and her gaze was directed downward, almost consciously avoiding the possibility of eye contact. Concerned, Michelle called out to the girl. "Hey! Are you alright?"
The only sound that met her query was a soft giggling, like that of a young child. Michelle blinked, shaking her head, and when her eyes opened the girl was gone. Confused, she tried to call out to her again. "Hello? Hey, is anyone there?" Only silence greeted her, though, and Michelle shook her head ruefully. "Letting yourself get too deep again, champ," she chided herself. "Playtime's over. Gotta remember where the line is."
Turning for the door again, Michelle yanked the heavy metal obstruction open with a few loose fingers, using her boot to push it free the rest of the way. She took a deep breath as the fresh air hit her face, and smiled, kicking the door wide and stepping through. The door slowly began to swing shut, and Michelle walked free from the abandoned institute, never looking back...never seeing the figure who watched her, judging quietly, as the door slowly closed with an echoing thud.
She had no time to look back. The future was ahead of her, and she wasn't going to miss a single moment.
Well howdy there pardner.