s-j-rayne

[s-j-rayne]

The Windowless Tower, Pt. 3

It had all happened so fast, Alice was not even sure she remembered every detail correctly. The lights had turned off the second the door behind them had locked her mom, Jason, the policemen and herself inside. However, Jason had managed to secretly give some of his power back to the current, and managed to at least turn on the emergency lights; they through dim blue shadows on the walls and floors, and made the slightly frightened faces look even paler. While one of the cops tried kicking the door in by mere force, the other looked for another way out; he was gone for twenty minutes already, roaming the floors above them with his little flashlight. They had looked for Keith's corpse, but it was no where to be found; all that was left was the stench of grilled human flesh, and the horrific memory that had burned itself into Alice’s mind. Her grandmother, Sister Josie, was also gone, and Alice was not sure it was wise to call out her name in front of Helena - it had taken years of therapy for her to get over her mothers early parting - and she did not want to open up old wounds by telling Helena that her mother was still here, looking young as ever. Alice’s mother had asked more questions, but soon must have realized that Alice did not feel like talking. She stood close to the door now, talking to the policeman who still tried to break the door, sometimes glancing over to Alice and Jason, who stood at the reception, in silence. Alice kept looking at Jason, trying to take him in completely; she had not have time to properly look at him. He was younger than she had thought at first, maybe eighteen or nineteen, not much older than herself, although his three-day beard made him look mid-twenties. He had long, dark lashes, and dark hair that fell into his forehead. His eyebrows were pulled in in the middle, making his whole face look sad and anxious, and he had nervously bitten his lip to the point of bleeding. He had only stopped when Alice took his hand again, and he had smiled at her mildly, thankfulness in his blue eyes. They were normal again now, now silver streaks or lightings, and fixed on her with a look that Alice had never seen anyone use on her. “Are you alright?“ she whispered to avoid unnecessary attention. He raised his head slightly, trying to look less messed up than he was. It was weird; she felt as if she knew exactly that he was not alright, feeling his guilt over killing his colleague, his angst over his own powers, his confusion and irritation about this whole situation. When he answered, his voice was hoarse and raspy. “How could I be? I killed my friend, I killed him, and Sister Josie covered it up. I should tell them what really happened, but they would never believe me and…. I just wanna know what’s going on.“ Tears filled up in his eyes, and he tried to keep his voice down as much as he could in his state. Again, Alice took his hand; it was soft, but rough, and she felt a little scar on the back of it. He squeezed it, and it was as if he relaxed immediately, his anxiety level decreased and his tears stopped running down his cheeks. Jason took a deep breath, and thanked her again. “Why?“ she said, and to give him more content she quickly added:“Why d’you keep thanking me?“ He shook his head slowly, an unconscious movement while he thought of the right words. “You seem to calm me down.“ He shrugged, unsure. “Every time I’m upset you take my hand, and I feel less frightened, less sad, more confident and strong. Maybe that’s your gift,“ he added, “you calm people down the way I fry them with electricity.“ She pulled her hand away and took a step back, shocked at his harsh words, but he gently grabbed her wrist and pulled her back towards him. “Sorry, that wasn’t okay. I make jokes when I’m scared, I didn’t mean to be so inappropriate.“ They were still whispering, but her mother must have seen the way he held her hand, because she kept eyeing them more suspiciously now. Alice did not answer, but she felt his sincerity, and gave him a little smile. He grinned back at her, half apologetically, half relieved. When she was just about to ask him whether he actually thought they were gifted with something, a painful and crashingly loud cry went through the tower, echoing through the five floors and making everyone turn around in horror. The police man who had tried to break open the door drew his gun now, and used his walkie talkie to contact his colleague, but all that came as an answer was a rustling sound, like leaves in a strong wind.. “I’ll check it out,“ he said, overly confident, but Alice felt how frightened he was. It was weird, she thought to herself, how much she could tell now how the people around her felt. She tried to enhance it, to take in more feelings in the room, when suddenly a wave of something unusual hit her - a feeling so intense, it seemed to crush her. She let out a cry and held her hands over her ears. Everything turned black, then, and she heard herself yell for her mother. The next thing she knew was that a voice appeared in her head. “Breathe, Alice. Try to get up,“ the voice said, and Alice recognized it as her grandmother’s. She breathed now, the way she had seen Jason do before, forcing her mind and body to calm down. Finally, she got up, the wave of pain she had felt locked away somewhere in her soul. When she opened her eyes, Sister Josie was standing at the far end of the west corridor; Helena stood close to her, tears in her eyes, but she was not scared. Neither was Jason. He just looked at Josephine as if he had known her forever. And the thought hit Alice, that maybe Jason had actually known her that long. “You need to get out of here,“ her grandmother said calmly. “This institution is closed for a reason, and the longer you stay, the lower your chances are of staying alive. Follow me; there is a cellar, and it leads into the garden. You will be able to escape there.“ Jason and Helena immediately followed after nurse Josephine, but Alice was unsure. She did not move, and after a few seconds the others noticed. “What’s really going on here?“ she asked, without giving anyone else the chance to speak. “If you don’t tell me now, I’ll refuse to come with you!“ A glimmer of what seemed like anger flashed over Sister Josie’s eyes, but it was gone so quickly that Alice thought she might have imagined it. “You are right, Alice,“ her grandmother said, waving her arms reluctantly. “You all deserve to know the truth. The truth of this building, the truth of me. The first thing you should know is that I am immortal.“ She looked at Helena now, with sweet eyes. “And I was one of the Odds who opened this Nursery." And so Sister Josie told them the story of the Saint Adolfo Nursery for Odd Children, from it’s first opening, to the first incident, and from the reopening to today, and her voice seemed so calm and steady that it was as if all three of them fell into a trance, forgetting everything around them and everything that had happened, and they relived what had happened in this very building, years and years and years ago.

Alice’s fists were still clenched when Sister Josie finished her story. She tried to process every information she heard, waging whether it made sense or not. She did not trust Sister Josie, but she could not say why, yet. A noise from one of the floors above made Alice jerk her head up, but she could not see anything. Just when she wanted to go and see if anyone was still there, Helena’s shy voice interrupted her thoughts. “So that‘s what happened?“ Alice‘s mum asked carefully. It seemed as though the shock of seeing her own mother alive and young had gone by quicker than expected, and she was now a young girl again, trying to understand why her mother had left. But Alice was still unsure; and she did not want her mother to go with Sister Josie, not to the cellar, not anywhere. “I don‘t believe your story,“ Alice said now, ignoring Jason‘s surprised face. He clearly believed every word that came out of Sister Josie‘s mouth - even the part about the demon child, Peter, who burned down the whole nursery in 1883, even the part about said child reappearing after the nursery had reopened, and the part about that child being now locked up in one of the rooms on floor five. “Why would you have stayed if that was the case?“ she confronted her grandmother. ”You could have left him here and come back to your daughter.” Sister Josie smiled now, a mild, understanding smile. “I‘m a nurse, Alice, and Peter was one of the children I was responsible for. I survived the fire, because I am immortal... and so is he. When the nursery reopened, he came out of his hiding spot and joined us again. I thought I could help him with his struggles, teach him how to control his powers, but he grew too strong to quickly, and the hellish power took over once more. I saw it coming, this time, and so I built a special room in which he should live without ever harming anyone again. And he still lives there, but he draws power from us, from everyone who is gifted. It is his nutrition, and soon he will be strong enough to break through the seal, and when he does, all hell will break loose.“ Alice took several seconds to go over her grandmother’s words. ”So all these years you gave him enough energy to survive, but not enough to gain his full power?” Alice’s concern grew even stronger now, and she concentrated even harder on her ability. ”Yes, Alice. And you have brought not only yourself, but two other gifted in here. Come with me, please, so that I might save you, and get you out of here before it is too late.” She felt it now; Alice had tried to get more time, to focus merely on Sister Josie’s emotions, to feel what the woman in the nurses dress felt. She felt it now. Behind a wall of pretentious care and false fear for Alice, Jason and Helena, there was mischief, chaos, and rage. Sister Josie did not want to help them; she wanted to hurt them. But the nurse saw the knowledge dawning in Alice’s eyes, and before Alice could warn her mother or Jason, the outline of her grandmother shifted, and transformed into the black shadow of a boy, with hellish red eyes.

[s-j-rayne]

The Windowless Tower, Pt. 2

Helena had just finished her shift at the hospital, and took the stairs up to the apartment. She was tired, as always when she’d worked the late night shift from 3 am to 12 pm. She turned the key and opened the door, dropped the key in the bowl that stood on the cupboard and kicked off her shoes. When she was just about to walk into the kitchen to make coffee, she felt it and froze. Here it was again, the feeling she had not felt since her mother had died. She felt it now, spreading across her body, raising every hair on her back and making her insides shiver. Something was wrong with Alice, she knew it. Her child was in danger. Now she had to figure out how to help her. Take deep breaths, her mother had always said, and concentrate. If you can enhance the feeling, you can pin down the location. That was Helena's ability, the ability she had inherited from Alice’s grandmother. Knowing when someone was in danger, and finding them before it was too late. Helena took three deep breaths, closed her eyes, and slowly a foggy picture came to her mind. A dark, windowless tower; and she knew exactly where her daughter was.

The lights above Alice’s head flickered, on, off, on, off and on, while Jason closed and opened his hands, strained. His eyebrows pulled together in the middle, a worried and scared look spread across his features, while the body behind him still let off black smoke. Alice was still frozen in place, but the fear in Jason’s blue eyes seemed to slowly unfreeze her. She took a step backward; she wondered if she could hide in one of the rooms upstairs, and if she could even make it before the boy would fry her as well. He looked up, and his sparkling eyes fixed on her. “What’s happening to me?“ he asked Alice, as if she could give him an answer that would help him. “Stop doing that with the lights, as a start.“ Alice was surprised at the steadiness in her voice. She felt weirdly calm, as if she had nothing to fear. “I…“ he began, when dark blue lines spread across his forearms, and he yelped in pain. “I don’t… know... how." “Take deep breaths,“ she said, the words coming to her as if she had said them a thousand times before, “and concentrate.“ She wondered how this was supposed to help, but Jason looked at her again, this time with less pain and more confidence in his eyes. He took deep, slow breaths now, drops of sweat covering his forehead. “You will be just fine, Jason.“ A feminine voice rang through the air, young but wise, and calm, and Alice turned to see who else was with them. Jason had turned as well, and both of them were searching for the source of the voice. “Breathe, Jason. Feel the electricity flow through your body, through your veins. Follow its rhythm, listen to its melody, and make it your own.“ The voice seemed to come out of every direction, bouncing off the walls, echoing through the tower. Alice turned to the boy again. He had knelt down on the floor, his breath going in and out more steadily, and the sparks in his hands slowly fading. Alice took a step forward, and another, until she kelt down next to Jason, her hand on his shoulder. Illuminated blue tears ran down his cheeks, and the colour of his eyes was lined with silver streaks. “Thank you,“ he whispered, but Alice was not sure what he thanked her for. It felt as if she had not acted herself, as if an invisible force had overtaken and used her as a marionette. She heard something now, a soft clicking sound coming closer behind her. Abruptly Alice turned, and looked into the face of a young nurse, who wore strangely old-fashioned clothing, her hands folded in front of her and a soft smile on her face. She had blonde hair, and nothing about her looked peculiar in any way. However, she also looked very familiar, as if Alice had seen her before. “I am Josephine, but you can call me Sister Josie. It is nice to see you again, Jason, now as a handsome young man.“ The nurse turned her face on Alice now, her smile warmhearted and sincere. As she continued, a photograph came to Alice’s mind; not one of the many in this building, but one of the few they had at home. It stood on her mom’s night drawer, and it showed Helena sitting on the lap of her mother, a handsome young woman with blonde hair, wearing a nurses robe and reading to her daughter. “I am also more than glad to finally meet you, Alice.“ The nurses' face grew cold again, the smile fading, a stern look unfurling on her soft skin. "But I believe you should call the police now, as there is a dead body lying there, and it seems the poor man was electrified by one of the old current conductions.“   Now Alice knew why the nurse looked so familiar, why she felt as if she knew her. It was her grandmother, still as young as the day she was said to have died. But apparently she had survived, and more than that, she also had not aged a day.

The noise of the sirens slowly came closer, as Alice and Jason stood outside the tower; her grandmother had told them what to tell the police, and then disappeared into one of the upstairs rooms. Still confused, Alice stood a meter away from Jason, trying not to look over, but she caught herself glancing at the boy several times. Something about him made her less hysteric, as if something long forgotten had woken up inside her, and when the police car turned the corner, she knew they would be fine. The cops slammed the car doors and slowly, dramatically made their way towards the teenagers. They were just about to ask the first obvious question when a familiar voice called Alice’s name. “Ali! Honey, are you alright? What’s going on?“ She hugged her daughter fiercely, and got hugged back even harder. “Mom! I’m fine. How did you know where to find me?" “Let’s call it motherly intuition for now. But really, what are you doing here?“ The two policemen also seemed to be interested in that question, so Alice began to explain; How she had been curious, and walked into the old tower, how she had turned on the lights, how that must have sent an alarm to the power station, and how when the two electricians arrived one of them must have touched a power line and got electrecuted. While she spoke these words, steady but not too unaffected, she noticed Jason shiver next to her, and she took his hand, absentmindedly. The second their hands touched, he calmed down and pressed her hand, thankful. The police went inside, to investigate, and Alice, Jason and Helena followed, although Ali noticed how overly nervous her mother was when stepping into the building. She frowned, as if swelling in dreadful memories, but followed behind her daughter reluctantly. “I don’t feel good about this,“ Alice heard her mumble, but when the door slammed shut behind them by a seemingly invisible force, it was to late to turn around.

[s-j-rayne]

The Windowless Tower, Pt. 1

There was this tower. Alice drove past it every time she took her bike to the train station. She always saw it, but she had never figured out its purpose or history. She saw it now, on her way back home. Dark grey stone walls, no windows, although there were the outlines of windows that made it look like it must have had some once. Ivy grew up to the roof, and there was a door, but it seemed as if no one had used it in ages. Alice decided to stop, and take a closer look at it. She parked her bike on the right side of the building, and took the four stairs up to the iron door. It had been blue, once, but the paint had cracks in it and the sun had bleached it to a faint blue gray. A chain hung around the handles, but it was cut, so Ali decided to just pull it open. A loud creaking went through the air; she turned to see if anyone had noticed, but as usual no one was around. Her thin golden bracelets clinked when she pulled the door open completely, and pushed past it inside. The noise of her boots on the floor went through the building like an echo, and the faint light that came through the gap in the door only illuminated the entrance. It was enough, however, for Ali to discover a light switch on her left, and she thought she might as well try to turn it on, and clicked it. To her surprise, a loud mechanical sound went through the walls, and slowly, one after the other, old light bulbs sprang to life above her, all around her, and illustrated an even older looking interior. To her left and right were short hallways with three doors on each side; in front of her was a desk, possibly a reception, and a two-sided staircase wound itself up to the top, to several floors covered in even more doors. Three small, rusted wheelchairs stood next to the desk, and the only light came from the light bulbs. There were no windows, only the outlines of them on the walls. Alice got even more curious; What were these rooms? What was this building? An old sign, the writing on it covered in thick grey dust, stood on the reception. She let go of the entrance door and took a few steps to get closer to the sign. Just as she had wiped the dirt off and began to read the sign, the door behind her slammed shut.

On the other side of town, on Jason P. O’Donnols control table, a red light switched on on his computer. He looked away from his phone now, to check what the light tried to tell him. Nursery Street 13, that was the address the light signaled. Weird, he thought. No one’s been in this building for centuries. He called out for his colleague, Keith. The thought of going there alone gave him chills. He did not like that building; he always felt as if it was too familiar, and too creepy. He often wished that they would just take it down, but the city officials obviously did not care whether it stood there or not, as long as the lights were off. Some Teenagers must have thought it a good idea to break in there to smoke some weed or something. Jason's job was to keep track of old, shut-down buildings, to ensure that all of them remained shut down. Together with his colleague, he got into the company car, an old chevy pickup truck, and they made their way to the old building.

Saint Adolfo Nursery for Odd Children

Dust stuck to the palm of her hand after she had uncovered the sign. So this is what this was: A nursery for disabled children. Reopened in 1894.  This is so interesting, Alice thought to herself. She repeated the name, Saint Adolfo Nursery for Odd Children, and she liked the sound of it. Her mother, Helena, was a nurse, and she knew her grandma had been one, when she was younger, until she died at twenty nine, six years after her mum had been born. Her grandpa had raised Helena and her sister, and he had done a fabulous job. Alice loved them; they were full of joy, always smiling, and it felt as if no worry could pass their barrier of happiness, despite the drama they had endured. She herself knew only little about her nan’s death; it had been a working accident, sometime in World War II, and she had not been the only one to die that night. Alice always suspected a bomb had blown up the hospital, or a gunfight had found its way into the institution. Dwelling in memories, she absentmindedly walked up the stairs, to the first of what appeared to be a five floor building. There were paintings on the walls, obviously done by children. There were flying wheelchairs, kids who grew flowers on their heads, a baby with blue skin and horns, a boy with blue sparks coming out of his hands, a group of children with a nurse next to them, who appeared to have cat eyes. The walls were covered in them, a hundred or more paintings and drawings, some coloured, others black and white. They made Alice smile. She turned to take in more of the tower's inner life. Beside each door was a light switch, and on each door stood a name. Matthew, Jason, Suzanne, Louise, Catherine, Jeremiah. She decided to step into them, to see how the old beddings and other furniture looked like back then. She picked the room with the name Catherine on the door, and was greeted with light pink walls, covered in rose prints. The bed was covered in white sheets, and empty flower pots stood all along the walls. On the night stand, a black and white framed photograph stood facing the head-side of the bed. Alice stepped closer and picked it up. The photo looked familiar, somehow, to one of the paintings she’d seen on the walls. A little girl, about five or six, stood holding a nurses hand. Her hair was flowery, literally. Roses, tulips, daisies decorated the girls hair which grew to her hips. She wore a neat dress, and old-school shoes with it. But what struck Alice was not the flowery hair; it was the nurse’s appearance. She looked young, in her early twenties maybe, and she had the face of a human, but her eyes had no irises, or pupils. They were completely black, and the closer she looked, the more the appearance of the nurse scared her. She smiled, but her teeth were razor-sharp and spiky. And when Alice looked at her hands, she thought she saw webs between the nurses’ fingers. Frowning she put the picture down and left the room. On the next floor, she opened Jeremiahs’ door. The room behind it looked like a normal boys room, had it not been for the demon-ish drawings on the walls. There were numbers as well, always in fours, like dates, starting with 1274 on the left from the door, to 1935, which was written over the bed. There was another photograph, of a boy of about sixteen years, with dark skin and what looked like little horns. Next to him, another nurse, this time with four arms and four legs. Someone had written Mrs. Spidey above the nurse, and Jeremiah, 1896 above the boy. It only occurred to Alice now, that maybe Odd was not a synonym for disabled, but strange. Odd. This whole place was odd. Suddenly creeped out, Alice slammed the door shut and ran down the stairwell. All she wanted was to get out of here. 

She had just reached the bottom floor, when a moving shadow caught her eye. She let out a shriek, startled by the young man standing at the reception, who now turned to face her. He wore a grey shirt, with a small, stitched on electrician turning a lightbulb on the bottom left. His name tag read Jason, and he gave her a small, crooked smile. “Sorry,“ she apologised, “I didn’t mean to intrude. Am I in trouble?“ she added anxiously. She thought she smelled something burned. Jason slowly shook his head. Weirdly slowly. “No,“ he said. “But I think I am.“ And with that he stepped to the side, where a body lay on the ground, steaming. Puffs of smoke came out of the the clothes; the same grey shirt as Jasons', a torch attached to his belt. Ali covered her mouth in shock. “What happened,“ she exclaimed, panicking, but when she looked at the boy Jason again, she saw it. Blue sparks protruded from his hands, and his irises were lined with silver streaks, like lighting, like electricity.

[s-j-rayne]

Queen of Ice

“You keep pretending like you‘re the Queen of Ice, like there‘s ice all around your heart, so that no one can really hurt you because no one really knows you,“ he said. “But that‘s not being strong and independent. That‘s being scared and weak.“

“Maybe I am,“ she replied, her eyes fixed on the ground. “Maybe I‘m weak. Maybe being afraid to open up, maybe growing ice around my heart seems like I‘m not trying hard enough to feel. But maybe, maybe I‘m not ready yet! Maybe I don‘t really know who I am inside yet, and it‘s easier to live without showing everyone my vulnerability!“

He bit his lower lip when her head tilted up and her eyes fixed on his. He‘d expected her to be sad, and maybe she was, but in her eyes were full of confidence. Confidence and a little bit of anger.

“But you know what? It‘s none of your business. And I don‘t care if you think I’m weak or scared. Because I like living this way. I‘m not unhappy. And as long as I‘m happy, there‘s no need to change. And if you’re hoping you could be the guy to unthaw my heart, then you‘ll either have to give me the time to destroy the ice myself, or you‘ll have to take your own heart, and walk away.“

[s-j-rayne]

Trainstation

She was sitting on one of these benches at the train station, her head bent over her phone. The screen was black, but I could tell by the way she stared at it that she was waiting for something important. Absentmindedly she bit her finger nails, and although I wasn‘t a big fan of this habit, with her I found it cute. Nervously her legs jumped up and down. A train went by on the other platform, and the noise startled her. I decided to sit next to her. Her hand was on her mouth when she quickly smiled at me; I don‘t know if she meant to or if it was just general friendlyness.

‘Hi, I‘m Jo. Are you alright?‘ I asked her. In the cold neon light her blue eyes were illuminated with an icy touch.

‘I‘m fine, thanks. Just waiting for a message.‘

I knew the normal thing to do would be to leave her alone, but as always I couldn‘t help myself, so instead I offered her a sip of my still-warm-ish coffee, and she gratefully accepted.

‘I‘m Kaely,‘ she said, and to me it sounded like the most beautiful word in the world. ‘What‘s Jo short for?‘

‘Joanne,‘ I answered, my fingers nibbling on a hole in my jeans.

‘Nice to meet you, Jo.‘

And when she smiled, I knew this time she meant it.

[s-j-rayne]

Writing is freedom

It is letting go of all your fears

It is entering a safe zone, where all your worries are forgotten.

Writing is love

It is doing what you love

It is loving what you do, and inspiring other to do the same.

Writing is lonely

It is sitting by yourself thinking

It is being with your fictional friends in their fictional world.

Writing is friendship

It is sharing your feelings

It is telling all you secrets without actually saying them out loud.

Writing is hard

It is putting down every feeling in one scene

It is spending hours on one sentence until it is perfect.

Writing is scary

It is opening up to unknown spheres

It is opening yourself up to the world, admitting vulnerability.

Writing is important

It is telling the world what you think

It is thinking about a world that could be.

Writing is my life

It is feeling, thinking, opening up

It is ambition, fear, strength, confusion,

ink and love.