disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail.
warning: ridiculously confusing at times (most of the time, probably). This is what happens when I watch a horror movie marathon on Netflix and then decide to write something up at twelve in the morning. (Should I make this M just in case?)

sanguine

Gray stared out at the vast, open world from his spotless window. His dark, dull eyes followed the reds and blues and greens of the sky, the grass, the birds, and slowly, he lifted a pale hand to touch the smooth glass. Running his fingertips down, leaving light streaks, he imagined punching through the thin barrier so that he could finally have a chance to touch, to feel, color again.

He was tired of white. Tired of nothingness. He felt like he was being washed away. If he could, oh the colors he would paint this room — a nice, deep red, perhaps—

"Gray?"

He blinked and turned slowly to face the woman sitting stiffly in the wooden chair across the room. She uncrossed her legs and ran a hand through her long, vermilion locks, before readjusting the clipboard on her lap.

"Gray, are you with me?" She spoke in a firm, professional tone, though her eyes showed signs of concern.

He nodded, face void of any expression. The corner of his mouth twitched upward slightly, and the woman smiled.

"Good. So where were we?"

Gray inhaled deeply and closed his eyes.

,

,

,

When he opened them again, he was met by a young woman with golden hair, smiling brightly at him with her upturned pink lips and her coffee colored eyes. She held a long, red cloth in her hands and frowned, furrowing her thin eyebrows, when he instinctively tried to swat it away.

"Gray, stop it. Seriously." She sighed and attempted to lift the cloth to his face once again, muttering 'party foul' lightly under her breath.

He dodged her this time, tilting as far back a his spine would allow.

"Lucy, the hell're you doin'!?" He demanded, clenching his jaw harder than he realized.

The blonde scoffed and rolled her eyes. "It's supposed to be a surprise, stupid."

On her third attempt, Lucy finally succeeded in tying the red cloth around his head, effectively covering his eyes, and therefore his sight.

"No peeking!" She sang out, giggling to herself.

Gray felt an uncomfortable knot tightening in the pit of his stomach. He absolutely abhorred surprises. He tapped his fingers against his thigh impatiently, the pressure becoming even more unbearable with each fleeting moment. Seconds ticked by, and then minutes, and after what felt like a century, the knot in his belly finally erupted, and he grabbed at the cloth, ripping it from his face.

What he discovered chilled every artery and vein in his body.

Lucy was there — lying on the ground with several handfuls of cake shoved into her mouth, the melted icing dripping in messy streaks down the side of her face. Utterly petrified, his eyes moved from her glassy, lightless eyes to the gaping gash in her stomach, as if it were ripped open. The pooling blood, redredred, covered most of the floor now, but Gray could not bring himself to move. He sat there, trembling violently, silent sobs ripping from his dry throat.

"H—Holy fuck, Lucy—!"

"You weren't supposed to peek—" His pulse spiked dangerously, and he cautiously glanced towards the sultry yet terrifying voice. "—Gray-sama."

He shivered as the blue-haired woman walked over to Lucy's body and crouched, dragging her bloody hand along the blonde's cheek to gather icing onto her fingertip. Her tongue whipped out to lick her finger clean, blood and icing and all. Gray felt disgusted, nausea threatening to overtake him.

"Happy Birthday, Gray-sama — Juvia hopes you like vanilla." She smiled, and Gray wretched at her sickening display.

"Juvia doesn't understand. What's wrong?"

She inched towards him, slowly crawling on her knees.

"Stop— Just— Get the fuck away from me!"

He scrambled backwards, pushing with his legs.

"But Juvia loves Gray-sama."

Closer, closer, closer.

"Stop it!"

His arms lost strength.

"Juvia will do anything for Gray-sama!"

Her hand brushed his foot.

"STOP IT!"

"Why does Gray-sama hate Juvia!?"

"FUCKING STOP!"

"WHY WON'T YOU LOVE ME!?"

He froze completely as he felt her icy hand brush his cheek softly, leaving a smear of redredred blood. And then he saw it — the blood dripping from her own body. From undernearh her blueblueblue locks, from her eyes, and from her lips.

"Why won't you love me...?" She whispered before her next words became a gurgled mess.

"Please— Please, just stop... Please."

He shut his eyes and screamed into his blood-stained hands.

,

,

,

Upon forcing his eyes back open, he was met by a familiar white and empty feeling and the watchful gaze of the red haired woman. Taking deep, full breaths to calm his erratic breathing, he leaned back in bed, resting his forearm over his eyes.

"... How frequent are these nightmares?" She asked, finally rupturing the heavy silence.

"Every night." Gray answered with a solemn tone. "I dream every night. And every night, someone else dies."

"And... And who is 'Juvia'?" She noted the flicker in his dark eyes at the name.

"... My girlfriend." He replied after a pause. "My ex-girlfriend."

She blinked. "Oh. Did it end on a less-than-favorable note? Perhaps that is the cause of these night terrors."

"She's dead."

The room fell into another uncomfortable silence, and the woman gave him a sympathetic look.

"I apologize — I didn't mean to—"

"S'okay." He shrugged, turning his attention to the dirt underneath his fingernails. "It's been months."

She sighed heavily and stood up, stretching her arms. "I think that will be enough for today. Thank you for cooperating with me, Gray." She offered grateful smile and nodded when half of his mouth pulled up into a slight smirk.

Stopping at the door, hair swaying and hand resting gently on the silver knob, she paused and said, "May I ask... One more question?"

She glanced back at him for approval and continued, "How— How did Juvia die?"

Gray blinked and turned to look outside his window, dark, dull eyes searching for nothing in particular. Looking down at his pale, cold hands, he said,

"I killed her."

ending notes: I cannot even begin describe how dissatisfied i am with this. And yes, the questions remain: Did he really kill her? Why? How? What the fuck are you smoking, Gin?
That's all up to YOU PEOPLE to decide. (Yes, the beauty of open endings) Oops, forgot to mention that the red-haired woman is (quite predictably) Erza.
I promise I'll write a better horror than this crap in the future.