Now here we are at the nightmare chapter! However, I got a few changes in mind when it comes to this chapter, so I suggest keeping reading to find out. The warning here is gonna be the same as it was in the old one, this chapter does delve into dark themes such as violence, PTSD, loss, self-hatred, brief mention of self-harm, attempted suicide etc. I suggest reading with caution if the drawing and the mature tab on this story are anything to go by. Now on with the chapter!
Corbin smiles lovingly at the woman with red hair and dressed in red in her arms as they sway on the deck, surrounded by candles. It's the same woman from her drawing, the one who the inhuman woman has committed to memory to the smallest detail in an effort to keep her memory alive. Although at first, it's not obvious that the woman is in fact a woman; she wore clothing tailored to men, making them baggy enough to cover her feminine curves as part of the bulging fabric; the woman has long coppery hair, but that could've been easily written off as many men of her occupation shared the same style; it also helps that she never wore makeup, deceiving those who look for jewelry, dresses, powder and paint to define a woman. This woman's name? Jacquotte Delahaye, otherwise known as "Back from the Dead Red". In contrast to Jacquotte, Corbin wore a traditional blue off shoulders dress. The blue being the same shade as a calm sky in contrast to the marauder's deep burgundy pallet.
The inhuman woman had no need for her usual human guise, never really requiring it in the presence of her accepting lover. For a while, they spoke no words, instead, opting to listen to the flicking of the candles; the other's heartbeat; along with the sound of the waves as for their music. She doesn't really know why they're dancing or the form of their dance, but the dark creature could care less in the arms of Jacquotte.
"I've long missed your warmth, Jacqui."
Corbin whispers to the pirate as she runs her fingers through her thick curly tresses. In return, Jacquotte looks up at the taller female to caress her unnatural face with both hands like it were the most natural action to do.
"I as well, my angel of the night."
The taller woman doesn't argue as she usually would with Jacquotte about the pet name, instead, basking in her the warmth of her adoration and compassion. Corbin recalls that before her first love, which she has long accepted, centuries ago, she will never find someone who would take her as their wife. While her older sister, Lavinia, had insisted that she finds a husband if only to be truly accepted into their tribe; although, the younger inhuman sister suspects that she only wanted that if so they didn't live so closely together by marrying another band of romas. Nonetheless, Lavinia was determined to set her sister up with any man she found suitable for the younger sister. Unfortunately for the foster sister, the men of their tribe were either too intimidated by Corbin or turned down by her, not wanting to trap anyone into a marriage with a hellspawn such as her nor to be subservient to anyone. The young creature then didn't really mind or care at the time, happy to continue providing for her tribe anyway she can, and is mostly content with it. At least, until Vadoma-
"Corbin, you seem distant. Ye have that look in your eyes again."
The pirate's voice holds concern in her tone, well-versed in how her lover's mind can wander sometimes. Corbin closes her eyes as she leans into Jacquotte's calloused hands, finding them to be a needed comfort from her troubled memories.
"Put your mind at ease, my love. I am fine."
The same couldn't be said for Jacquotte when the taller woman then opens her eyes. She feels dread anchor itself in her stomach as she falls to the sandy beach on her knees, holding her former love's rapidly cooling body in her arms. At the center of her chest, a bloody wound blooms under her tunic, staining the material into a scarlet color, almost black, despite the blazing sun. Corbin's screams are muted as the fire from the candles grows into an inescapable inferno from all sides. The inhuman woman attempts to fly her and Jacquotte's bloody corpse but finds herself unable to.
She looks down to find the sand below them to have grabbed onto her, quickly causing her to sink further into the ground. Corbin attempts to flap her wings but to no avail, as she may as well have been trying to do so in molasses. Still, she holds Jacquotte's body close to her, not letting go despite how her once clever eyes have become deathly pale and expressionless or how black veins have appears all over her body along with dark splotches. Eventually, Corbin has to hold Jacquotte over her head as the sand comes up to her neck before flooding her mouth, making her cough but allowing more sand into her esophagus. She hears her heart drumming within her ears as she's fully submerged.
Jacquotte is no longer in her arms as she falls through the inky abyss with nothing visible for miles, nothing to slow descent for her wings and tails were cut off. Corbin doesn't need to feel her face to know that most of it is missing, revealing charred flesh and bone underneath. She doesn't feel the impact nor did she really care how it knocked the wind out of her lungs, not when she recognizes the bones below her to belong to those of children.
"N-no! No! NO!"
Corbin picks up one that still has some burnt flesh on it, recognizing the burned patchy hair and burnt flesh belonging to her niece. Her vision starts to blur as her eyes start to burn, the familiar weight of grief gripping her heart.
"V-Vadoma!"
The skull then transitions to one of a full-grown African man that then turned into bone and dust that crumbled in her hands, trickling through Corbin's fingers as if to signify the spent sands of their life that she's failed to preserve. It's almost as if the dust and ash were to mock her for being too slow, always too late. The inhuman woman rubs the dust over her face as she takes vain attempts to wipe off the tears flooding out her eyes. Her torment continues as she hears familiar buzzing and squeaks that drone on in the air. Corbin shuts her eyes tightly as she digs her black claws into the bones below her while she mentally repeats to herself not to give in to her rising temptation to face the unknown.
'Don't look up! Don't look up!"
Yet, she couldn't stop her traitorous body from looking up, only to shrink in horror, at the impossibly gargantuan living mass of lice, fleas, and beetles. Said monstrosity had hair made of lice in an attempt to mimic a powder wig, beetle legs made up its coat with the coattails wispy from the material, and its "medals" seemed to shine dully in an unknown light source due to the large beetle shells decorated across its torso. What's worse, is the empty eye sockets that glowed a hardened green, highlighting the writhing fleas. Those eyes held nothing but contempt for Corbin, scrutinizing her in disgust as she were a tiny pest whose only purpose is to be wiped out.
'Disgusting... gypsy scum... unnatural... unholy abomination... You're gonna die alone!'
It seems to hiss in her ear, despite not actually moving its mouth, with all the venom of a black mamba. In response, she picks herself up from the decayed remains to flair her head crest to the creature, refusing, even in the face of her nightmare, to back down. In response, The Swarm rears its ugly head before striking, opening its mouth unnaturally wide, revealing a sickening bright green light from within its maw, to swallow Corbin whole. She grabs at the sides of her head but is unable to block out the words that pummel her mind, each word sending a white-hot stab of the indescribable pain.
"AHAHAHAHAHAH! HOW COULD YOU HAVE THOUGHT ANYONE WOULD LOVE YOU?"
"EVENTUALLY, EverYONE lEAves YoU!"
"OR thEY DIE bY YoUR handssss."
"YoUUU onLY RuiN EvERYtHING!"
"YoU'RE nOT GoOOOD EnOUgH for ANYONE!"
"You're gonna die alone, gypsy scum!"
Corbin opens her mouth to scream, despite how no sound came out, as she desperately gasps for breath before clawing her way out of the mass, effectively tearing a hole through it. She quickly makes her way out of the opening, even as she feels it trying to drag her back in; barely managing to get out by the tip of her tail as the bugs reformed around the hole.
"Alone."
This time, she could hear herself screech.
"SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!"
Despite how a prominent part of her mind told her what she's about to do next is a bad idea, Corbin knocks it aside to lunge at the revolting swarm above her. She jumps high into the air and goes straight for the throat. This proves to be ineffective as the swarm dissipates around her attack before reforming, giving Corbin no hold on to the elusive being. She plummets to the ground while trying to still bite or claw at the swarm, but she may as well have been fighting water; unable to harm it but capable of doing much more harm to her. Corbin does not hit the ground, instead, she's caught by The Swarm that compresses itself into a living river that came cascading down in her direction with devastating impact. She wishes that she would've just shattered onto the ground, but like most of her wishes, they go unheeded.
Her chest tightens as all the air in her lungs is forced out, making her heave desperately for air. However, instead of air, she breathes in millions of pests that start crawling inside her lungs and stomach. Corbin's space only continues to shrink as The Swarm constricts her in its iron grasp, leaving no room to claw her way out or even turn around. She's unable to do anything as she senses the swarm's countless foot soldiers start pressing against her and then dig into her skin with their tiny teeth, effectively eating their way inside of her veins and seeping into her blood. She watches as her skin bleeds and bulges from the bugs that lurk just underneath her skin. She claws and digs at her eye which is being feasted from within the skull. Corbin silently screams as she feels the small army march through her nerves and up her spine, slowly enclosing on to her brain.
On the contrary, her screams were heard by the Creeper; who immediately dropped the latest dagger he was working on to rush towards his distressed partner. His eyes widen at Corbin's flailing that accompanies her cries, unable to do much as she arches her back while giving an unholy screech that's made worse by the vacant factory reverberating the sound back to him tenfold. The Creeper wants to deny that the sight before him arises any shred of fear of him, eventually reasoning it to be anxiety. He's seen through enough nursery windows to know that this sort of behavior is common among children, luring him within the home from the thick fear permeating into the air from them and their parents. Judging from what the Creeper could pick up with his olfactory senses, there's nothing physically wrong with his mate, with the root problem being whatever is happening within her dreams.
He doesn't like this, no, he hates this with a passion. He can't use his plethora of weapons or frighten the nightmares. He can't even enter her mind in an attempt to ward off whatever haunts her without explicit permission, for her mental barriers are strong even unconscious. The Creeper snorts out his frustration, hating to feel like his prey in any way. Only his prey should feel this helplessness when he has them cornered or when death comes to claim them while their life drains from their eyes. Neither he nor Corbin is that, despite how she may act the otherwise from her time among the meats. The Creeper sees no other option than to wake her up from whatever hell her mind has created for her.
He lifts her up from her lying position and grabs her by the arms, which is rather similar to trying to grab ahold of a flopping fish out of water. It doesn't help with the fact that Corbin's strength surpasses their prey, making it harder to get a good hold on her. The Creeper then vigorously shakes her back and forth, hard enough that he hears an audible crack from her neck. For a moment, his panic rises at the thought of breaking his mate's neck, but this is swiftly remedied when her body halts in her erratic movements followed by her opening her eyes.
The Creeper notes how her eyes stared at everything and nothing, not really comprehending her environment. Her inky scales shine from the perspiration that stuck her clothing to her form, her hair was disheveled as if she were in a scuffle with an invisible nightmare, her chest rise and fall with each heave she took. The Creeper could almost hear her heartbeat thundering against her ribcage, faster than it normally should be to the point he almost thinks her heart will collapse, unable to keep up with her mind. Quicker than he could react, which is saying something, Corbin has her right hand crushing his windpipe with such a tight grip that it has him instinctively grab at her wrist to pry her off with his crest slightly open. However, he's quickly able to regain himself and remind himself that his mate is still in a state of sleep and is not in her right mind. Then again, he's not surprised at her also wanting to choke him wide awake and fully aware.
"Je vais vous tuer,"
She murmurs lowly as if stating that she will kill her mate is an undisputed fact. He pieces together that Corbin may not be actually referring to him specifically another enemy perhaps. The Creeper attempts to take take a calming breath despite his restricted airway which proves to be semi-successful.
"Je vais vous tuer!"
Corbin repeats, this time, with a threatening growl with venom practically dripping out her mouth with each syllable. The Creeper couldn't help but liken her to a snake as she pulls him in closer with her fangs bared, her canines glinting as if eager to dig into his flesh again. He puts up his own hands to hold his mate back from tearing into him, leaving Corbin to snap at thin air but close enough to graze at the tip of his nose.
'Je vais vous tuer!'
She hisses maliciously in his head, her voice still heavy with exhaustion. Corbin's hand and body then go limp, having finally run its course from its brief burst of energy. The Creeper catches the inhuman woman before she could collapse onto the concrete ground and sets her back in her nook. Unfortunately, while he was occupied with his task, small dark tendrils originating from his mate attach themselves to the man-eater. The Creeper is left unprepared because of this, leaving his mind little warning before, what he could only describe, a waterfall of darkness painfully tearing their way into the forefront of his mind. demolishing his mental walls.
The inhuman monster snarls as his mind is assaulted by mental claws and fangs, trying to tear at him from inside out. He could almost see it clearly in his mind's eye; millions of tiny black creatures festering within his skull with their chirrs and clicks echoing in his mind to weave images he doesn't recognize. No, memories, memories belonging to his now resting mate. Memories of dark cells without a shred of sunlight; of being buried alive as the insects of the earth start to devour her body, unable to move from the tons of dirt and debris on top of her; the searing touch of the flames and clouds of ash attempting to claim Corbin's life; the endless cycle of life and death that goes on around her, but one she can never partake since none of the former have been able to kill her. A truth she herself has tested out on herself as she went on to learn more harsh truths.
Human lives are short, their lives a blip in comparison to the test of time. They can try to leave a mark on history to endure just a little longer too, at least, live in memory before ultimately true death comes for them. Yes, this is a universal truth, but a regular human wouldn't be able to fully grasp this concept in the face of eternity laid out before them. At least, not until they're suddenly be given a crash course from the eyes and mind of an immortal; the endless years they spent walking this earth alone, seeing the follies of man time and time again before it's all forgotten. They know just how short truly when nothing they love lasts forever, forcing them to desperately cling to anything they can to never let them fade from their mind since they can never be with them again as death will not take them. Why do humans desperately strive for immortality? Aren't they aware that immortality means cursed to never grow old with those you let into your heart? That they won't be able to join them in death, being forced to watch everything change and eventually wither away while remaining the same? All because what, they fear the cold grip of death? They're fortunate that they can reunite those they've known and lost in the next life after death.
If the Creeper were a mortal man, he would've definitely gone mad from immortality being unveiled before him. Like the others imprisoned in the Caribbean alongside Corbin, they would've been quickly overwhelmed by what they know now while still restrained by their mortal bodies. Their minds are forever altered by the onslaught of misery and pain the inhuman woman associates with her state of being, reminding all of just how drawn out and meaningless their lives can be without death. However, the Creeper is not a mortal man nor is his mind so easy to break in comparison.
He takes a deep breath as he lets out a low growl that rumbles deeply from his chest. He shuts his eyes tightly as he mentally steadies himself against the psychological attack. Corbin used imaginary claws and fangs to lash out, so he will do the same but with his wings as well. He swipes back at the billions of insects attempting to eat away at his being; biting back against The Swarm to tear them into shreds; he unfurls his might bat-like wings to create mini hurricanes to push back the tiny black bugs and effectively muffling the chattering. However, it isn't enough to dispel all of them since, as one million pests fall, a million more take their place, effectively causing the Creeper to become mentally exhausted. Fortunately, his efforts are enough to lessen the excruciating pain in his head to a manageable migraine and he doesn't have to keep his mental defenses up for much longer. Unlike how the attack arrived swiftly and without warning, it then slowly drains out of his mind and back toward his mate.
The Creeper collapses next to Corbin, his nostrils flaring as he deeply inhales the air around him as if his actions in the mind were done using his actual body. He gives out a chuff to no one in particular, finding the entire ordeal to have been inconvenient on his psyche. The creature shuts his eyes as he shakes his head as if to mentally shake out any leftover reminiscence of those black bugs out of his mind.
'What a pain in the ass.'
The Creeper groans mentally to himself before his attention then turns back on to Corbin, who appears more at ease than earlier. Her eyes still moved behind her eyelids, but otherwise, she slept completely still. He leans over her and takes a deep breath through his nostrils, including the third one, finding his mate's intense fear to be absent. Although Corbin seems to be more at peace than when he found her writhing around, the Creeper isn't sure if she'll relapse back. He then recalls how parents would comfort their children after a nightmare by taking them back to their beds to sleep beside them in order to "drive away the nightmares". Would the same work for his mate?
On one hand, she made it clear that she does not wish to be touched by him. Then again, is he or is he not acting as a mate should by wanting to comfort her? On the other hand, he does not wish for her to stab him in the neck again, not when he seems to be winning her favor. That and she has shown him the same grace when his hunt went terribly wrong, giving no pity or judgment, instead, she had hunted and offered one of her prey as he had with her. She fears the darkness within her mind, and Creeper may not have known her for long, but he's certain she doesn't want to be left alone with it. There seems to be one logical action to be taken.
Carefully, he scoops Corbin up from her concrete bed before taking her up the worn metal stairs to the upper levels of the abandoned factory; besides a single groan, she did not stir within his arms. The Creeper momentarily felt a pang of anxiety when he had to use one arm to open the door to the manager's former office while still holding his sleeping mate, but he managed anyway. The office wasn't much to look at as when the factory was operational, having a desk and table, worn down with the Creeper having carved his own designs into the wood; the windows were cracked with some glass decorating the dirt-covered floor; the corners were thick with cobwebs; on the left of the carved desk is a bookshelf containing the eaten remains of some books along with some newer ones more intact and with less dust; however, what the Creeper is most interested in is the small sort of nest he made using hay and the tattered remains of his victims' clothing. He hasn't used it in a while if the layer of dust over the clothing is any indicator, not that he really needs it even now since he doesn't need much rest. He has so little time above ground during each cycle, he prefers not to waste so much of it sleeping for so long, but he's willing to make an exception in this instance.
He first sets Corbin down on the pile before laying down next to her, mindful enough in his drained state to keep some space between them. The Creeper sleeps on the edge, giving his mate the most space in this nest built for one. He takes a breath, taking in Corbin's smoky scent to help ease himself as he closes his eyelids, sinking into a state of semi-consciousness. He couldn't have been asleep for long before he woke to the feeling of another warm body pressed up against his side.
His muscles tense up as he turns his head to look over at his sleeping mate. Her raven hair spread out behind her like a cloak of the night during a new moon; the Creeper notes how her face seems on guard even while resting, giving some hint on her true age to be older than any human; however, the rest of her body expresses ease such as with the gentle rise and fall of her chest. He observes over each detail of her, committing every last one to memory for a later project.
The Creeper couldn't help but find this strange female to be a stunning art piece and not just for her unique appearance. So strong but, at the same time, so vulnerable especially toward her mind. Cruel and ruthless, but never heartless toward her prey. It's fascinating how she tries to act human, blend in as he would attempt but far better at it; perhaps, a little too good in actuality. She seems to want to be human when Corbin is so much more. How odd that she talks of freedom, yet she restrains herself from being free with herself. Maybe, the Creeper could help by giving her a little push, but that's not his immediate concern.
What's more urgent for him is the fact that his oblivious mate is pressed up against him, unaware it's him. The Creeper is unsure whether he should pull away and go back to his art projects or pull her into his embrace. Fortunately, or unfortunately, the decision is made for him when Corbin wraps her arms around his arm while curling up closer to him. The final nail in the coffin is when her tail snakes up over his hips, keeping the Creeper within her embrace.
' I best leave before she's conscious enough to rip my throat out.'
He thought to himself while resigning himself to be held close by Corbin. Tentatively, he turns on to his side to be face to face with her. The movement causes Corbin to groan to which the Creeper responds by placing his arm around her, followed by one of his wings to blanket her. He couldn't help but feel a surge of smug pride that comes with providing for his mate, this feeling only doubling when she nuzzles closer to him while simultaneously purring. At first, he didn't recognize the sound given he's never heard it from her, but then shortly reciprocates it with his own purr. A small smile makes its way on the Creeper's facial features as an unfamiliar warmth blossoms within his chest. His purr becomes louder as he places his chin on top of Corbin's head before closing his eyes to rest.
....
Corbin rubs her eyes as weak sunlight enters through the dirty windows. She then sits up to stretch out, stopping mid-stretch to look around her new surroundings. Corbin doesn't recall getting up and moving anywhere nor does she remember anything from the night before. The inhuman woman furrows her brow as a familiar earthy scent fills her senses. Corbin then gets up from the Creeper's nest, recognizing it not to be of her own due to how it was softer on her back than the concrete alcove she fell asleep in. She crouches down to take deep breaths of the nest, finding the most recent scent from her mate to be faint, affirming he's gotten up hours ago.
Corbin growls lowly to herself at sharing the same bed as the son of a bitch that tried to eat Darry, or worse, touching her inappropriately while vulnerable. The inhuman woman then shifts into her human disguise to make any bruises or scratches much more obvious against the paler skin. However, her skin appeared to be flawless without a trace of any injuries, not even the faintest bruise; plus, every part of her feels alright, rejuvenated even.
'Then why take me to his nest?'
Corbin pondered as she walks over to the grimy windows, wiping a hand over it to let in more sunlight. She could faintly remember some inklings of her dream including fire, death, and... her first love. A nightmare is what she had, but could the bastard downstairs have enough heart or compassion to even think of offering that sort of comfort? It's evident by the fact he offered his nest for her that the answer may be yes.
Corbin runs both hands through her long raven mane, groaning at the dilemma forming within her mind. She wants to hate the male for spotting her at such a moment and the audacity to lay a single digit on her, but she can't really find it in herself to actually resent what he did.
'Don't make it a big deal. It's probably a one-time deal.'
Corbin tries to convince herself before heading out of the room and down the metal stairs. The Creeper looks up from his work at the sound of his mate making her way down the stairs. He gives a small noise in acknowledgment which she returns as well with a nod but doesn't say anything. She opts to go back to her alcove to work on her sketchbook, which she normally finds comfort in.
The two man-eaters remain in silence except for one instance when Corbin hisses in displeasure at her sketchbook. The Creeper looks over at her just as she slams the book shut before getting up to head outside for fresh air, climbing up the infrastructure on all fours as if she were a spider. After a few minutes, he then sets down what he's doing to then follow his mate, unaware of the unfinished sketch of him crouched over in concentration inside of Corbin's sketchbook.
That one was a doozy eh? On the bright side, it did get fluffier later on eh? More fluff and possible gore up ahead y'all. Plus, know that it's okay to reach out for help. Stay weird my fellow humans.