nightmare ☽ (os ouvert) when night comes

Infinite emptiness spits me out, in the middle of corridors devastated by an abandoned mess. The walls are unstables and threaten to collapse. Yet they are a prison, I know it. The cracks that run through them seem familiar. The carnage spreads further. At the end of an uncertain tunnel. Misty light dancing in the gloom, showing the way.

Bitter in the air. Acid smell that burns my throat, my eyes. I move in the alley as if I knew it. Actually, my steps guide me for having done it a thousand times before. Blindfolded. The neon lights crackle, blinding my memories. Flash. It's another one of those torments, right ? Suddenly my heart races. Deep down, I feel it. The evidence overwhelms me, while I no longer walk. I run. Feeling the danger of that place.

They are infinite lanes, of which I can’t see the end. The passage never stops lengthening, and from the front or the back, the mist hides the entrance and exit. I come from nowhere. I'm not going anywhere either. The path has not changed. The ground is scorned with dirt. Poisonous, slippery. On the walls stand cells - rooms. Impossible to read the names. For they are only numbers.

N°047. N°078. N°105.



Beats of my heart make me run down the corridor, precipitate a fall which I know already arrives. The doors multiply, covered with blood. The cries moan, call for help. Corrosive nausea. I kick a door, twice before it opens. N°112. It's too late. Unmade bed, torn sheets. Marks of struggle. You can't save them. Empty. Empty. The room is empty, however the cries sound louder. N°118. Shoulder kicks against the door. Please help me. Help me. The door falls, and hopes fall too. Empty room. You're too late. Rage in the heart, burning. I'm scared. I'm scared. The voices, too many of them, tear my feelings, twist my thoughts.

I've come to save you. I'm coming. I won't let you down.

N°121. I'm scared please help me. I'm here, they won't hurt you anymore. But they already did. It's over, I'm here. The door gives way. The room is empty. Blood hanging on the walls. Guilty wounds. You're not here. You left. BUT I'M BACK. I WON'T LEAVE YOU, NOW. Deadly silence, closes the echo on my chest. Wind of panic.

Every room is empty. The disaster has swept everything away. The cryings belong to its walls, and will never leave them. Prisoners of eternity. Destined to be forgotten. Never existed. Too fucking late.

Sen. Sen where are you, kid ?

Chasm in my chest, and lungs drowned in distress. The blood rushes to my head, suddenly torn from this voice calling me. It's not my name anymore. Yet it is no one else's but mine.

Sen, come here. Quick !

I dive again in this corridor of nightmare, in which I lose myself. Slip in the emptiness of my remorse. The cries choke me, bog me down while they call me, hold me back. The voice of my memories haunts me. More present than ever. It stops behind a door.


The neon lights twinkle, change the numbers from shadow to light. Breathless conviction of having to return. At home. To hell where I belong. Press on the handle and abandon the corridor of the damned. Of the forgotten. There is no one left. It is too late. And this truth digs a hole in my stomach, when I close the door behind me.




Nothing has changed. The dirty dishes piled up. The porn magazines. The dusty curtains. The bars on the windows.

And he hasn't changed either.

Yusuke stands in the middle of the dingy apartment, seems relieved to find me. Sen, where were you ?! - I don't even remember. Like a mechanic of the heart, I know and move forward without doubting, to join this father I missed so much. Face ruined by the years. Wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

I don't even remember. where was I ?

The old man grabs my face, and in his eyes, I see the moist of emotion. I don't like it. Damn you, all grown up and tough. – Fuck you. His laughter shakes my insides. My certainties. My convictions. I want to stay. I want to stay here forever. In his hands. Why am I suddenly so afraid to leave. That this moment will escape me.

Please stay. – I can't, Sen. Don't cry, big boy. I'm not. I am. Hot, overfilling tears, rolling down my face. Stay- Don't leave me, oyaji. Begging in my voice. I don't want you to leave. My fists, handcuff, clutching at his wrists while he’s holding my face. Chains of flesh. Short breath choked by the tide that overflows, hits full wave. Don't fucking leave me. I dare you. I dare you to stay. – I know you'll be good. – BUT I'M FUCKING NOT ! Do I look good ?! soul breaks in the clatter of silence.

It doesn't look like anything that happened. Because it never happened this way. I never saw him leave. Deep down I know it, it screams another truth in me, but I refuse to hear it, to listen. They're coming. You know they're coming. I nod my head. Play along this game of lie. Yusuke abandons my face and – why. why do I let go of his hands. He's coming. Go and hide, kid. – I don't want to leave you. – You have to. Don't worry ‘bout me anymore.

Push, push and repels me. Yusuke pushes me away. Don't want me. Don't want to see me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. His face is at peace. Like every night when he goes to sleep. I'm sorry. Why do I feel sorry for. I can't feel my body. I can't speak. My legs are petrified. My breathing stopped, as the door opened to the shadows. The darkness never deigned to knock.

The monster makes its entrance. Break the door, out of his cage. But I can't move. So I close my eyes. I close my eyes and forget. I forget, so that it never existed. Everything turns black. Despite the screams. Despite the taste of blood. If I open my eyes it's over. And like a kid hiding under the bed, I try to see through the sheets. This monster that is not me. Right, Jiji ? I never wanted to do this to you. I didn't do it. They made me do it. It's out of my hands.




And the silence falls again, in the half-light. The cries have fallen. Disappeared in the Night. I go out from under the bed. The apartment changed. Empty. Deserted. Abandoned. As if nothing had happened. Nothing happened. Sticky hair. Face defeated. Sore body. Breathing disordered, lack of air. My eyes find neither father nor beast.

Just emptiness.
And me in the middle,
waiting.
Lost in the void.

Sitting on the floor. Against this unmade bed. In this upside down apartment.
Soul broken. Unable to wake up. Because this isn't a nightmare, is it ?
Dreams don't slice me to pieces.
All this really happened.

And now
nothing.

Himari

Ruins have never been so comfortable. Probably because they're mine. All this mess belongs to me, looks like me. Feels like me. From the torn curtains, to the unmade bed. From old shoes to dirty dishes. Overturned furniture to the shadow of every corner. I would like to make it my tomb. A place in which to abandon myself. To forget myself. To never leave.

To remain huddled in the memories of an ashen past. Rocked by the ghost of Yusuke. This is the only place that makes me want to never come back. Or to never leave. Behind my crossed arms, in the middle of this dilapidated flat. It's dark, it's cold, and it smells like rusty iron. Blood. But I feel strangely at home here. I belong in this.

Waiting for him to come home again. The door will open and the old man will come in. His thunderous smoker voice will echo off the walls. And everything will go back to the way it was. Like it used to be. Like before.

Before.

Someone is coming. Someone is there. And without lifting my head from my arms, I feel this foreign presence in my world. In the suffocating web of my thoughts. In my depths. Someone has managed to get in. My arms are too heavy to lift. My head drowned, sunk by the weight of torment. I hardly notice her, really. Too far lost in myself.

… Sawano ?

A ray of light passes through my eyelids, which I want to close tighter.  Not to let it in any further. This voice that calls me is not the one I wanted to hear. This glow distorts my darkness. My mind makes a barrier, to hold back the realization. To forbid confrontation. Not to let her reach me. The whole flat begins to suffocate. The den of a fierce and wounded beast. The walls close in. The shadows try to smother the light. Don't let it in.

The void could take her away.

...is everything alright ? voice at once distant and so intimate. A dissonance in my mind that revolts to hear it. A discrepancy between the past to which I cling and the present to which she belongs, without knowing its secrets. Lost in my emptiness, which I don't want to give up. And in the spiral, she continues to approach. One more step. Get out. It's not safe. My voice echoes, as if the whole flat is talking. She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be anywhere near. She doesn't belong here. She could be hurt. She has to leave. She has to leave.

The thoughts in a din, which my hands come to seek, clutching at my hair. I have left my arms of despair, to find the hands of fear. Clutching my skull, to let none of the voices, let none of the screams out, contain the shadows. The soul's sobs rising in my throat, in an urge to vomit. Struggle within myself against the sharp grief.

The glow moves away, wanders through the flat, flashes the walls, the corners, the shadowy areas. Before returning in a felt step. Bare feet that I see through the tears of fever and distress that soak my face. Sweat, tears. Cry of silence. What the hell is she doing here.

I... think you should have this.

It's only her red dress that I see. My face does not leave the floor, where her bare feet are on. Her skin so fair. Slowly, with a soft hand she holds out to me, a paper between her fingers. My eyes see only that. Not her face. Not this affront. My eyes slip away, scanning the message and her white palm, in this room so dark. My head leaves my hands. Slowly releases it. Obsessed with the given hand - too close, still far enough. Cautious.

I move my own hand forward - with the intention of taking her wrist. To reach out and touch her smooth skin. But when I open my fingers, the blood on my palm and fingernails makes me change my mind. I close my grip, unable to hide all the red that paints my hands. But instead of touching her, I come and grab the paper. I didn't read. It's yours.

Uncertain, I keep it folded in my hands, without discovering its contents. Frozen with this paper treasure she has just entrusted to me. Marked with a familiar 銭へ. When my eyes find the inscription, I scan it, identifying the writing, even the lead of the pen that drew it. Leaves a red imprint on the white edge of the paper. Stained.

I'm sorry I barged in.

My attention carries over to the one that washed up in my world. Or at least to her legs. Never to dare raise my gaze to hers. Not this time. Not now. Keep in the shadows the serious look that scribbles on my features. Without answering, yet I should tell her to leave. Because if Yusuke doesn't come back, I am nevertheless not the only one living here. I don't move. Sit in front of the bed. For it is underneath that the monster is hiding.

The blood sticks between my fingers and the paper, until I decide to unfold it. The writing is dirty. Wrong. Imperfect. Childish.

"i have to satisfy the monster. he has loved me for longer than anyone else. he protects me. he's winthin me."

The echoes of my own voice come back to me, in a tone I haven't had for years. Since I was twelve, at least. The words are soft and comforting. Though dark. Talk of love and monster in the same sentence. A truth that twists my stomach, when I feel behind me, under the bed, a warm breath blowing on my skin. He loved me for longer than anyone else. I let my hand find the floor, and the piece of paper with it. Closer to that warmth that emanates from behind me, comforting. And with the other hand I come back to hold my head, exhausted from this endless night.

I'm gonna go now...  The voice floats in the air, as if all around me. As if it, too, was close by. Will you be okay ?  The intention leaves me silent. Unable to know what to do with this glow that lights up my shadows. To give me the respite I didn't ask for. So this time I lift my chin. And find the gaze of the one who was not afraid to enter.

Himari stands before me, in a dress of the same colour as my hands. If I touched her, there would be no trace on. No risk of staining it. Blood red. Bare legs and feet, an entity never imagined. And from the floor, my attention goes up to find her gaze. Her up, me down. Offering her my wounded features. My hollowed out gaze. Drained from having let all my soul go.

This simple look is enough, in its audacity and the little bit of effrontery it contains, to answer. I'm not the type to give up. I'll see you later, okay ?  I nod imperceptibly. Yeah. It's hardly noticeable. It's mostly my gaze that doesn't break from hers, and stares straight at her - exposing the darkness in my eyes, letting her see an evil look that I can't suppress - that belongs to me despite myself. But underneath this thick layer of shadow, I know she sees me. And I see that she's not afraid.

Not any more word, as I feel her slowly move away, leaving behind an open door, from which light escapes.

Gradually I return to myself, head in my arms. To regain the balance I lack. Slowly. Until I hear the click of the water, licking my feet.




Remi

Perdu dans le néant de ses propres tourments. Abandonné aux carcans de ses propres Enfers, Akira est suspendu dans le temps, dans les abysses, en lui-même. Les cris sont des chimères sordides qui se baladent dans son esprit et ne lui laissent aucune paix. Répètent sans cesse des rumeurs coupables qu’il s’inflige, se remémore comme ultime punition. Enfermé derrière les barreaux de son cœur, de ces déchirures qui fragmentent sa mémoire. Rêve-souvenir pour que jamais il n’oublie qu’il est coupable d’exister, qu’il est le propre monstre de ses profondeurs, que jamais il ne quittera ces ténèbres, car ils vivent en lui-même.

Attaché à s’enfermer plus profondément dans cette prison autant que forteresse de ses émotions. Trouve le réconfort des ruines, des oublis, des morceaux du passé. Habite dans ses vices et se réchauffe dans les tripes du démon – tout ce qu’il lui reste.

De sa peau brûlante, rougi d’une fièvre folle qui ne le quittera jamais. Une caresse en suspens, l’effleure un instant sans en reconnaître immédiatement le toucher – mais il n’y en a qu’une capable de faire de leurs blessures et griffures une tendresse à la violence familière. Tolérée pour ses aspects aussi maudits que les siens. Remi si proche du démon qui disparaît sous le lit, pour ne laisser qu’un hôte déchu à ses crimes. Le sang poisseux sur ses mains qui goutte sur le parquet, en attente d’une sentence qui ne viendra jamais. Coupable, mais ne veut se l’avouer. Pourrait-il seulement se regarder après, d’avoir fauché son propre père.

Remi est là, elle rôde et lui la sent sans même la voir. Retrouve la carne de l’humain, défait de cette armure démoniaque qui l’a abandonné après son méfait. Remi est là, et c’est assez pour vouloir ne plus jamais partir, si elle-même reste à ses côtés dans l’obscurité. Et leurs démons pourront jouer ensemble dans l’éternité. Leurs regards échangent des vices insensibles, qu’eux seuls comprennent et savent entendre. Recueil l’un de l’autre. Elle emporte les restes de son âme, les rapièce sans mal, d’un simple regard qui soulève le sien. Capable de le fixer depuis ses abîmes – elle leur appartient aussi. Et lorsqu’elle lève le bras vers lui, Akira accueille sa paume contre sa joue brûlante, sans quitter ses onyx aussi noirs que l’appartement.

Le visage de Remi se dissout dans l’obscurité, lentement dévoré par l’ombre, et ne laisse progressivement que son bras tatoué, puis sa main contre la joue chaude de Akira. Jusqu’à ce que la caresse elle aussi disparaisse, laissant le garçon-démon endormi dans ces tendresses, au bord du lit.