The burning stench of copper fills his nostrils in a sickening way that it churns his stomach in disgust. He knows that it's ridiculous to admit that he almost gets used to the smell.
It's almost as if he's been stuck in this hellhole for days, maybe weeks, or maybe months. He doesn't know; the watch wrapped around his wrist appears to be useless; as well as every clock inside buildings in every place since time has stopped at a different time for apparent reasons.
His head hurts, his body is tired. He was able to withstand minor injuries but with constant running from dangers and a mysterious hooded-man stalking him every now and then, he's exhausted.
He doesn't understand how this world works, but obviously that man, Ruvik, is messing with his mind for some reason. Teleporting him to places he's never known (up until now), sending monsters to him along with echoing whispers hot in his ears (burning his mind), telling him to stay forever.
He shakes his head. Why the hell would he even want to stay in this nightmare anyway?
Moments ago, he remembers he was with Joseph at the church, the other desperately trying to get a hold on reality before thinking of suicide. The hooded man then appeared and separated them both by sending him topple underground of the church's catacombs.
He thinks angrily, what did he ever do to Ruvik? He got dragged into this mess without himself knowing and totally ignorant of the reoccurring changes of his surroundings. Why is the hooded stranger toying with him? And what could he possibly gain for his pain and suffering?
His head is spinning with endless questions and thoughts. He just wants to stop for a while.
His legs collapse under his weight as his back slides downwards against the wall.
He breathes slowly, ignoring the burning stench and the smell of death around him.
He looks up to the ceiling. The ceiling has been cracked open wide and droplets of red liquid leaking from above.
He breathes in again, still ignoring the stench of blood and death.
He knows he needs rest but the thought of letting his guard down while he is resting might be the end of him since the place is crawling with those veil monsters. Everywhere he goes; those things (creatures, monsters) are practically surrounding this twisted world.
He sighs; he needs to rest but he won't sleep. He decides to close his eyes for a while and check his revolver's magazine if it is full.
So he holds the revolver close to his side. He is getting paranoid as each moment passes and he makes sure to hear any suspicious noise.
His eyelids start to fall as he hesitantly embraces the welcoming darkness.
He smells flowers. He recognizes them as sunflowers.
His eyes are still close; he doesn't want to open them yet.
The cool breeze with the mixture of warm sunlight kissed his skin, trapping inside is a familiar feeling.
He feels like he's at home.
However, he doesn't remember keeping sunflowers at home.
Well, his wife used to keep flowers; specifically Lilies, Tulips and such. Keeping them neat in vases with various sizes, said that flowers kept their home lively.
His wife loves flowers and keeps them at home, but he doesn't recall any sunflowers.
His eyes flutter slightly when he feels small delicate fingers at the side of his face. It must be his daughter.
His daughter is dead 2 years ago.
He opens his eyes wearily, hesitantly and slightly panicking.
An unfamiliar face of a girl is looking down on him.
(It's not his sweet little 5 year old girl, she's dead,dead,dead,dead,dead,dead,dead,dead,notdead,dead,dead,dead,dead,murdered,burnt,dead,dead,dead-)
He is sleeping on her lap.
She seems no older than 18. Her long shiny black hair slide over her shoulders and her bangs almost touching his forehead. She wears a long striking red dress that (looks like blood) covers her arms and legs entirely.
Her eyes widened briefly in surprise then she smiles. Her fingers still rest on his cheek.
He opens his mouth to ask her- (where'smydaughter,whereisshe,whereissmywife,whereismysweetlittledaughter,whereismywife,whereisshe,whereisshe,whereishe,wherearethey ,wherearethey,dead,dead,dead,dead,dead,missing,missing,burntalive,burnt,murdered,dead,dead,dead,dead,gone,gone-)
-who is she but he closes when he hears her giggle.
"You're not dead, mister. At least not yet, anyway" She giggles again and caresses his cheek with her thumb.
He sits up quickly and distances himself from the girl, almost missing the warm comforting fingers on his face.
She withdraws her hand to her chest, her lively amused expression not leaving her petite face.
"Where…am I?" He asks not to the girl but himself.
He takes a minute to look around. He is among the field of sunflowers. The red sky blending in with the mixture of orange and purple clouds, the sun is almost at its peak.
He looks behind the girl and notices there's a barn in the middle of this enormous land; he wonders where in the world is he? He remembers he was at the not-unfamiliar mansion, filled with death and sorrow. He just took a rest and he's now here with this girl who just told him he's not dead yet.
"Why, you're in the land of the rich Victoriano's Residence, mister. Look behind you; the mansion is just over there." She points behind him; her smile is telling him to be reassured that she has no ill means.
He stares at her for a moment. Then he reluctantly looks over his shoulder and he sees it, the mansion.
"How did I end up here?" He raises one of his eyebrows, giving her a look of suspicion.
She smiles widely at that, like she is very fascinated at his confusion and her eyes says, Isn't it obvious?
She ignores the question; instead she tends to the basket of sunflowers next to her. Her eyes would glance at him every now and then.
He shifts uncomfortably because of her presence. She looks strangely familiar and he wonders if he saw her before. She has an uncanny resemblance to something… something he encountered before.
She doesn't look one of those creatures that chased and tried to kill him before.
She looks normal, like him.
Like any other people that's trapped in this forsaken world.
Perhaps she is part of this world… Or has a place here.
He doesn't realize he is staring at her until their eyes meet each other's.
He looks away, she giggles softly.
He then decides to look around. He stands up, dusting himself and takes a step forward. Sunflowers are invading the whole land here and seem relentless at his current situation.
He wanders around. He knows a girl like her won't harm so much to him… but just to be sure, he keeps an eye on her. Either for his own well-being or hers.
He suddenly has a desire to protect her, must be because she's still a kid. Plus those creatures might be lurking around here.
As he walks, he kicks something with a familiar tink sound. He looks down and picks up a jar filled with green goo. There are some pistol as well as shotgun ammos along with some spare parts.
He wonders where they come from.
He looks over his shoulder and the girl is still there. She is humming a soothing tone that he feels like he heard it somewhere before.
He remembers red hot fire, the chokingly smell of ashes, tears threatening to fall as the dust stings two pairs of bright blue eyes, a voice lost in despair desperately calling only for no one to hear, arms failing as the small body crashes onto the hard muddy rough ground, cracks are heard and then everything falls silent.
He is trying to remember but something in his mind is not letting him go further to his own memory hence sending him a stinging wave and a piercing sound. He grunts and holds his head.
The world around him twists around as the yellow sunflowers bends forward and wilts instantly.
He gasps, he can't see anything clearly. Everything is spinning and he's breathing hard as if there's no air.
His corner of his vision is darkening. He blinks, trying to stay awake.
A pale distorted hand with many burnt scars stretches out in front of him, getting closer and closer as he is on the brink of unconsciousness.
It touches his forehead and on that instant, he sees various images.
No, there are memories.
He can't clarify whose or what is happening in those memories but he can hear them so clearly that he feels like he's there himself.
He hears whispers of promise, happy laughter, angry shouts, screams of agony, cries of sorrow and-
A soft voice calls out to him from the darkest corner of his mind.
"Sebastian?"
Everything he sees and hears vanishes like thin air.
What just happened…?
His head turns left and right. His headache vanishes too.
The hand disappears; the sunflowers remain unscathed. He blinks several times, trying to get a hold of himself. Shit, I'm getting crazier every second I'm here…, he thinks.
Who's calling him? He turns around to find the voice in the middle of his oblivion.
The girl is still there.
She is facing at his direction and smiles brightly at him like the sun hovering behind her.
"Hey mister, could you sit here for a moment please? I would like to have a word with you." She pats the ground next to her. (Didn't she just call his name? He doesn't recall telling her his name though why does she still call him 'mister'?)
He hesitates. Shit, what is he going to say?
When he doesn't say anything, the girl pouts.
"I just wanted to talk to you only for a while. I promise it won't take long! Now come on, sit here!" She waves her hand over to him as her blue eyes are pleading him; reminds him a painful memory in which his daughter would stare up to him with big puppy eyes.
He ruffles his hair as he sighs. He doesn't know where this will be going but he might as well play along.
He walks toward her and plumps down beside her. Just when he is starting to get comfortable, the girl leans forward before hugging his arm. He lets out a surprised 'Huh?' What is she doing? He thinks, still in shock.
She giggles as she lets go. "I'm sorry, mister but… do you mind spending time with me? Please, it really won't take long—it's just that I'm feeling lonely for some time and I had no guests to talk to." She looks up to him with a sad smile.
She then gasps and knocks her head with her fist gently. "Silly me—I haven't even introduced myself!" She scoots herself closer to his side, he can't bring himself to step back. Something tells him she's scary when she's angry. Actually, most women are scary when they're angry.
The girl holds out her hand politely (He swears he saw a vision that her fingers are fucking long as hell and her arms rigid with burnt marks), her other hand pushes her bangs behind her ear and her voice goes sweet. "Hello, my name is Laura Victoriano. What's yours, mister?"
Every fibre in his being screams at him. Get away. Something is wrong here. Everything is wrong in this hellhole. But he is unable to. He remains where he sits, unable to stray away from those light blue eyes. God, he thinks it is because this act of innocence, a face full of so much youth, he stays. Instead of fighting it, he smiles back at her. He takes her hand.
"Castellanos. Sebastian Castellanos—but you can call me Seb."
He guesses this is a better illusion to deal with than anything else.
A/N: Weird format, I know. I don't remember the reason for it too. All I remember is because I was mad that there wasn't any Seb/Laura-centric fics here so here's my half-assed attempt for filling that. C'mon, it was 2015. I didn't even know this fic exist before I stumbled onto it a few days ago. It wasn't complete btw, but I literally have NO idea how this story was supposed to go so I'm leaving it here.
It wasn't bad, but it had a really really bad taste in my mouth.
[Created: 08/30/15]
[Last edited: 12/14/16]