A/N: Hello FFNers! Scarletscript here. I'm a bit new to this and I know the author's note isn't usually the most interesting thing about the story, but please bear with me! First of all, I'm hoping to make the canon characters as true to form in their actions as I can within the bounds of the story, so if things start to get a little wacky I'm depending on you, the reader, to call me out on it and let me know. I want to improve in my writing, so I'm completely open to whatever you guys have to say regarding this. So here comes the legal stuff. F.E.A.R., all of its characters, and all related products do NOT by any means belong to me, although it would be kind of cool if they did. So with that out of the way, on with the story!
Chapter 1: Awakening
The dream was the same as it always was.
I was stuck, rooted to one spot; unable to move any part of my body. It was cold; a mind numbing, bone chilling cold that was as paralyzing as any drug. The room I was in looked like a normal institutional type room devoid of furnishings, save for all the strangely foreboding markings on all its available surfaces. Then, an inexplicable wave of fear would hit me like a freight train, knocking the breath out of my chest in a rush. And that was when he would come in.
It wasn't so much that I saw him; it was more like I felt his overwhelming presence. It pressed against me violently, insistently, before he even drew near. It was oppressive in every sense of the word. He would come closer and closer, his face shrouded in shadow and veiled with red smoke. With every step he took, my fear increased tenfold. A cold sweat would break out across my skin as the footsteps stopped inches away from me.
I would feel hot breath fan across my face as he inspected me with intense scrutiny, his face hovering inches above mine. I would swear that he was amused by my fear, as a light, almost imperceptible chuckle rang through the room. By this point, I could make out more of his features. I always felt an odd sense of curiosity through the terror, to see who this man was, and what he looked like. I saw a bullet hole that drilled into the middle of his forehead and puckered slightly, settled right under a shock of black hair on a high, aristocratic forehead. A morbid impulse to touch it would run through my mind and be shaken off just as quickly. I saw a strong jaw line twisted slightly by a sinister smirk. But above all, I remember a set of keen eyes boring into my own that burned with some unknown emotion. Whenever I looked into those eyes, the smirk would grow until it became almost predatory in nature. He would lower his head until it was right next to my ear, almost as if he was telling me a particularly juicy secret. His lips would brush against my skin as he spoke words that I couldn't hear.
As with all of the other dreams, I would suddenly feel an excruciating pain unlike anything I had experienced before in my life, like a fire roaring through my veins and tearing me apart from the inside. Images would flash before my eyes at a blinding speed, blurring together until my mind was completely overwhelmed. All of it would stop completely, only for me to find myself in an expanse of pure black. Deprived of all my senses, the feelings of panic would return.
That was until I would hear a song in the distance, so far away it could barely be heard. I would strain to catch the entire melody, as it was the only thing I had in that limbo. I clung to it desperately as it grew louder and louder, a hauntingly sad melody that tugged at my heart the same way each and every time I heard it. A little girl in a red dress would always be there, smiling at the corners of my vision as the song grew louder still. The lullaby would warp and twist until the sound was almost demonic in pitch. The girl was always there though, simply smiling like it was the most normal thing in the world. She was in the front of my vision at this point, her eyes glowing from within, lit from behind by a black flame. She would open her mouth, and I would awake with a start in my own room, panting heavily.
Just like I've woken up every night for the past week.
People say that dreams may tell you things about yourself that you never knew, or that they carry predictions of the future.
People also say that that's a load of bullcrap designed to fool overly superstitious people.
Me? I think it may be a bit of both.
My name is Catherine Moody, and this is my story.
A/N: So what do you think? I hope it's not too overdramatic, although I suppose it's hard not to delve into that a little bit with this kind of subject matter. You know, vengeful psychic ghosts and whatnot. ; P Oh, and this first chapter was in the first person, but the majority of the rest of the story is going to be in the third person. This was kind of supposed to be like a diary entry. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it! More chapters on the way soon. Reviews are much appreciated!