The reality of fear is that it’s always there, waiting for you when you least expect it. There are things that frighten you and things that make you afraid, things you can never escape from, but one thing about fear is that no matter how many times you run away or hide or scream, it will find you eventually, sooner rather than later.
And so it always comes back to haunt you in some way; to scare you, to hurt you, to take you down a peg or two. It’s the only thing that can be truly guaranteed in life. And so even when the terror doesn’t show itself right away, fear has always been there waiting. But at first, it was just a feeling, an ugly little feeling buried deep within your soul, lurking somewhere in the back of your mind where it would often wait until the opportune moment to strike.
Fear would stay with you long after all the other emotions had gone, leaving behind this little voice telling you that it was always going to be there, whether you wanted to hear it or not. And it did its best to drive a wedge between you and every friend you ever made and anyone else who could possibly care about you.
You tried to ignore it; you tried to tell yourself that it wasn't real. You tried to believe that it didn't exist, but it followed you everywhere, whispering into the darkness around you, making sure you were scared of the most insignificant of things, and doing nothing to help you forget your feelings entirely.
Fear was a nasty piece of work. It was cruel. It was terrifying, and even more than anything else, it was familiar. Not only that, but it had taken you far too long to realize that, and even now, as you stood on shaky legs staring at the door to your own room, fear was still trying to force its way inside.
It seemed so easy to open the door. All you had to do was let go of your thoughts, allow it to creep in, and then everything would fall apart. All the nightmares, the voices, and the pain would all come flooding through the cracks. There was nowhere to run to now, though. The fear was here, and you were trapped in your room with it.
You took a step towards the door, and another, and another… Until finally, you reached out a trembling hand and pushed the handle down. The door swung open, creaking slightly under the weight it brought with it.
For several seconds, you stood frozen in place, staring through the doorway into the dark void of space beyond. Finally, you stepped over the threshold, shutting the door behind you. Then, moving cautiously forward until you stood face to face with your fear, you looked up into its eyes. They stared back, blankly, expressionless. Its arms hung limply by its sides, fingers curled loosely, as though reaching out for something they couldn't quite grasp.
The air felt heavy around you, cold and damp and oppressive, clinging tightly to you like an unwanted blanket. Your chest began to constrict, and your breath quickened, and you forced yourself to focus on breathing. You closed your eyes for just a second as you breathed in deeply.
One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six… Seven… Eight.
When you opened them again, the figure still stood before you, looking like some distorted mirror image of you. Only this time, its face was twisted into an unsettling smile. It leaned in close to whisper in your ear. Its words were soft and melodic, the low hum of a lullaby. And yet, their words were full of malice, full of hate.
You flinched as it spoke, and it noticed. In one swift movement, it grabbed you roughly by the neck. The grip was crushing, painfully tight, nails digging deep enough to draw blood. Its eyes bored into yours, burning into the very core of your being. The sound of your own blood dripping onto the floor drowned out the sound of your heartbeat. A gurgling cry escaped you as the lifeblood spurted from your mangled neck, then the last thing you'd ever hear…
“You're mine.”