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tedturneriscrazy · 2 years ago

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If anyone following me remembers, I have written a few stories involving Kite Nye and Sabrina, two OCs from @nikkydash. And you may also remember my ongoing story with these two, Date Night, which currently has two chapters.

Well, today I present to you, not chapter 3, but a standalone story based on an idea I've had kicking around in my head for a long time. This one features mostly just Sabrina, and I tackle something new in my writing: horror!

I had hoped to get this out closer around Nikky's birthday, but better late than never, I suppose.

Anyways, enjoy!

Sabrina's Nightmare

Sabrina had no idea what the fuck was going on, and she didn’t like it one bit.

She stood in the doorway of the entrance of what seemed to be an abandoned building, the door being nowhere in sight. She tried looking back into the building, but was met only with inky blackness. She felt around her pants pockets for her phone, but could not find it. Instead, bringing her hands back out, she realized that she was holding a cheap lighter in her right hand, the color of which could not be distinguished in the dim light. She tried igniting the lighter, but all it could manage was a few weak sparks, refusing to give her a steady flame.

Feeling unease growing in the pit of her stomach, Sabrina slipped the lighter back into her pocket and looked out toward the surrounding environment, which appeared to be a sandy beach right next to the ocean. From this distance, the sand on the beach seemed oddly…pristine, with not a single sign of life or so much as a rock, though the sand did form a few small dunes which dotted the length of the beach. Waves crashed onto the shore with mild force and steady regularity, mimicking the labored breathing of someone with emphysema. Looking to the sky revealed that it was nighttime, the weak glow of the moon obscured by considerable cloud cover. Looking to her right, she was able to make out the faint, blurry silhouette of what appeared to be a city, shrouded in a mix of low light and thick fog. The night air was calm but bitterly cold, and Sabrina could easily see her breath.

A lot of it, in fact.

It was at this point that Sabrina realized that, for some reason, she was panting and her heart was pounding, as if she had been running furiously just moments before. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out why she would have been running. Was she trying to catch someone? Unlikely. Sabrina figured she’d remember giving chase to someone, probably because they owed her money. Since it was also unlikely that she was running on a cold night wearing decidedly not-workout-appropriate clothing for her health, it had to be that she was running from someone or something. But who? Or what?

The cops? Nah. There would have been either the flashing red and blue lights of their cars or white beams from flashlights, and there was only the moon’s meager pallor. Gangsters? Also probably not the case. Getting fake married to Kite had caused that one to back off for the most part, and Sabrina had surprisingly managed to be a good girl and avoid pissing off any others lately. She mentally flipped through her list of enemies, rivals, and various other people whose feathers she had ruffled in the past, but nothing was ringing any bells. Baffling.

There was also a nagging feeling that she had been with someone and ended up separating from them. But who would it have been? Kite? Day? A friend from work? An ex? Briefly she thought of Colton Chadwick and immediately pushed him out of her mind. While she had no doubt he would have bolted as soon as things started going south, the way they had broken up had kinda sorta resulted in him being run out of town in humiliating fashion, never to be seen again. So, probably not him.

Continuing to mull over her situation, Sabrina began to walk toward the beach, the only logical place there seemed to go. Whatever need there was to run had apparently passed, which was good because she could already feel the burn of having done so for a while. As the rush subsided and her heart rate lowered, she started to feel the sting of the chilly night air and shivered a little. God, she hated the cold. Why didn’t she have a jacket? It seemed weird that she would go anywhere in such weather without one. She couldn’t figure out if she had merely forgotten it or if she had left it behind in haste to get away from…whatever it was she was supposedly getting away from.

There were so many details that Sabrina was missing here. This sort of thing happened whenever she got particularly wasted or high, yet she felt stone cold sober and uncomfortably alert. In fact, for whatever reason, she was very much on edge, her fight-or-flight response feeling like it was on a hair trigger. Either she was going to fuck up the first poor hapless motherfucker who snuck up on her, or she was gonna book it out of there so fast Usain Bolt would be envious.

Okay, Sabrina, she thought to herself. It’s time to calm down a little.

With that, she took a deep breath in, then counted to four in her head, and then let a ragged breath out in a thick white plume, counting to four again. After repeating this several times, Sabrina was able to…maybe not exactly calm down, but at least get into a better headspace than she was previously.

Thanks, BJ, she thought offhandedly. I guess video games do teach you practical things, after all.

She continued making her way to the beach. After struggling through the sand for what felt like hours, which were almost certainly just minutes, she found herself atop one of the fun sized dunes and stopped, taking in the ocean’s waves. In more fun circumstances she might have taken off her shoes and made her way up to the shoreline, but as cold as the air was, the water would undoubtedly be freezing and manage to soak her feet to the bone. Once again she found her thoughts drifting, this time thinking that she should maybe take Kite on a moonlit beach walk sometime. Yeah, they’d eat that up for sure. They were a sucker for romantic shit like that.

Ugh, focus, dammit! This wasn’t the time!

Sabrina shook her head violently and gave her face a smack for good measure. She could plan romantic getaways with her fake spouse later, once she figured out this whole mess.

She looked around the beach now that she was properly on it. Back when Sabrina was a kid, she and Day had been “volunteered” by their parents to participate in a Saturday morning beach cleanup (come to think of it, they had to wake up so early in the morning it was just about as dark and cold as it was here and now). After hours of scouring the beach for garbage, the sand was still littered with various bits of detritus washed up from the ocean, and plenty of black specks dotted the lighter colored beige sand.

This beach, however, was quite different. Even up close, there only seemed to be pure white sand, unspoiled by a single piece of debris. Not so much as a broken fragment of shell, scrap of seaweed, or even a piece of trash left by careless beachgoers. It was as if it was devoid of life entirely, and could easily be mistaken for a desert were it not for the proximity of the ocean and the cloudy night sky. Looking in either direction, it also seemed to be as endless as it was lifeless, with no obvious endpoint on either horizon.

Not finding anything helpful along the beach, Sabrina turned her attention to the city. Obfuscated as it was by fog and darkness, it was everything she could do to even discern that there might be a city in that direction, not a single pinprick of light from a building managing to break through. Even so, for some reason looking at it filled her with deep dread, and as she considered the possibility of going toward it, her heart began to race, the dread swiftly turning into terror.

Now what prompted all this, then? While she still couldn’t think of any plausible answers, she had a feeling that, whatever she was running from, it probably came from the city, and/or claimed it as a home base.

At any rate, it was clear that Silent Hill was off-limits. Since standing around wasn’t accomplishing anything, and she wasn’t about to walk into the frigid sea into a watery grave, that left the choice of picking a direction on the beach and walking that way in the hopes of finding…something. Looking to her left and right, Sabrina finally decided to go left.

She walked along the beach for a while, once again struggling to move through the sand. It was unclear how much of it was the inherent difficulty of gaining a foothold in sand and how much was from being cold and exhausted, but this trek was proving to be a right pain in the ass. Sabrina considered moving closer to the shoreline, where the water mixed with the sand would undoubtedly provide more solid ground, but decided she didn’t want to risk getting hit with waves and possibly getting hypothermia. This moonlit walk on the beach was not turning out to be all it was cracked up to be.

As if all that wasn’t enough, an intense wind began to blow, which hit Sabrina with a full frontal assault and stopped her in her tracks. The lack of a jacket was proving to be particularly troublesome now, and as an added bonus it felt like knives were flying directly into her face, particularly digging into her eyes and nostrils. Sabrina raised her arms in front of her face to brace from the wind and what was surely the sand traveling along with it. However, she chanced a glance downward, and for all the ferocity of this wind, the sand wasn’t stirring at all. Just as she began to question this phenomenon, the wind suddenly stopped.

Well this was fucking unusual.

Granted, Sabrina was no stranger to magic and supernatural phenomena. After all, she had cavorted with undead mobsters and was currently (fake) married to a powerful magic user. Safe to say, she had, as the kids would say, seen some shit. But gale force winds that affect a person but not the surrounding environment? That was a new experience, she had to admit. Even the wildest magic she had seen tended to follow, y'know, physics.

However, as she continued to contemplate what had happened, a distant bell rang in her memory. She recalled a story that Kite had told her where they were on a trip to Ireland. They were visiting a castle that was alleged to be haunted, and they decided to have a bit of fun. They found a hiding place, waited for some tourists to pass by, then used their magic to pretend that the passage was inhabited by ghosts and banshees. The performance must have been quite convincing, because the tourists had fled in "abject pants-pissing terror" (Kite's words). Sabrina had laughed to the point of tears at this anecdote, and remembered thinking, Damn, I know how to pick em.

With this recollection, things were clicking into place, and for once she had an inkling of what could be happening. As this idea came to her, the wind began to blow again, this time at her back. It was only now that she realized that her hair was down, since the wind slapped it in her face. Once again, the sand remained unmoved, though as the wind passed through her ears, she heard something new: a faint voice(?) whispering, "...b r i n a…"

And just like that, the underlying unease and fear mostly melted away, replaced with exasperation and mild amusement. "Okay, very funny, Kite!" Sabrina called out. "You got me good! Come on out!"

As she stood triumphant, congratulating herself for figuring things out, the wind changed direction from behind her to coming in at her right. This time the voice was louder and more substantial: "S A B R I N A A A a a a a…"

"Yeah, I get it!" Sabrina shouted back. "Ooh, spooky ghosts and shit! But the jig is up! Come out and conjure up some fire, I'm turning into a fuckin' icicle over here!"

With this, the wind once again suddenly stopped. It wasn’t the only thing, however. The sound of the waves crashing onto the shore had also been silenced. Sabrina chanced a look at the water, and saw that it had gone completely still, without so much as a ripple on the surface. Then it began to lighten in color and take on a more solid appearance, slowly at first, then rapidly spreading across and expanding, otherwise remaining still. Before long, the water had reached this state as far as she could see.

The goddamn ocean had frozen over.

“Okay, Kite, this isn’t funny anymore! Enough’s enough!” Sabrina shouted again, panic creeping into her voice and chest. By now she no longer truly believed this was Kite’s doing. Rather, she may have been clinging desperately to any shred of hope that it still might be the case.

Coming in to extinguish that bit of hope was what felt like a hand rest on her left shoulder behind her. Accompanying this was the coldest sensation Sabrina had ever felt, as if the hand was soaked in liquid nitrogen and dripping it all over. This cold sensation moved its way up to her ear, where she heard a voice…no, it wasn’t really a voice. It was as if the words had been spoken and she understood what was said, but there was no sound of a voice speaking them.

You have yet to experience true cold…

Sabrina immediately clenched her fist and spun around to deck whoever it was behind her. However, she only ended up punching thin air, as whoever (or whatever) was standing there was nowhere to be seen.

“Show yourself, asshole!” she screamed, “Enough of these bullshit magic tricks!”

Behind you…

Slowly Sabrina turned back around and finally saw, standing about fifty feet away, the source of the not-voice: a somewhat tall, thin figure, about six foot even, wearing a long coat and a wide-brimmed hat. They appeared to be the color of the misty shroud draping the city, save for their face, which was a stark white. Sabrina could not discern any finer details about them; even their face was a blank canvas until they suddenly opened their eyes, which appeared to be the same color as their clothing and the city.

No, that wasn’t quite right. On closer inspection, the eyes, clothes, and mist weren’t simply the same color; it seemed like they were all the same substance. What was more, it seemed like there was continuity of pattern between all of these as the figure swayed in the currently nonexistent wind, like the visual effects of plaid in certain old cartoons where the outline of the characters or objects moved along while the plaid remained still in a background layer.

The feelings of terror and dread that Sabrina felt while contemplating going toward the city returned with greater intensity. Not only that, but the already-cold surroundings dropped even further in temperature, nowhere near the liquid nitrogen levels when the unknown entity grabbed her shoulder, but certainly Antarctic at the very least. Yet despite this, she found that she did not–could not, in fact–shiver in response. Aside from the jackhammering of her heartbeat and worryingly faint breath, she couldn’t move at all. It was as if the air had become so cold that she had, in fact, literally frozen in place.

But the worst part? All of this was familiar. Like she had experienced it before. Not that long ago, even.

Sabrina now remembered who she was running from.

And she was in deep shit.

Slowly, the figure began to advance toward Sabrina, the plaid effect becoming even more apparent as they did so. They were not walking so much as leisurely floating in her direction. Considering they had been right behind her only moments before, it was clear that this was not their top speed. For that matter, they were literally grabbing her then, so why all this? Was this thing enjoying fucking with her?

“Who are you? What are you? What do you want with me?!” Sabrina tried to say these things, but it seemed her vocal cords were frozen along with the rest of her body, because the words didn’t come out.

Right, probably should have expected that.

Succumb…

Succumb? What were they talking about?

Surrender…to the mists…

They were much closer now, and soon they would be within arm's reach in spite of their glacial pace. As if in anticipation, they stretched out their right hand. However, instead of motioning to grab Sabrina, they held their hand out, as if inviting her to take it.

C'mon, move, goddamnit! Sabrina thought to herself, trying to will her limbs to move. As thoroughly fucked as she seemed, she had no intention of surrendering to the mists at the behest of bootleg Slenderman. Do not go gentle into that good night and all that.

Yet her body remained stubbornly immobile. This was not ideal.

Just give in…it will be easier…and your suffering will end…

"Blow me, fuckface!"

To Sabrina's surprise (and perhaps the figure's), she could hear and feel these words forcefully escape her mouth. Not only that, but she found that she could move her arms again, and she could feel her legs itching to bolt. Wasting no time feeling out her newly regained mobility, she turned around and sprinted.

Despite the sand shifting under her feet, she was able to put some distance between herself and the figure. She chanced a look back, and saw that the figure began floating toward her again, hand still outstretched, though they apparently didn't see the need to up their speed to match Sabrina's. Rather than dwell on how unsettling this was, she chose instead to focus on what to do next to take advantage of this head start. Perhaps she could just get far enough ahead to lose them, or she could find a safe place to hide, or–

Or she could trip.

This was not one of the options she had considered, but it was the one she ended up taking. As she was running, her foot caught on something, and she ended up falling on her face. Fortunately she was able to close her eyes, though she still ended up with a mouthful of sand. She pushed herself up quickly, irritation building upon her already considerable fear, anxiety, and stress at the current situation. What had the fucking audacity to trip her up at a time like this?!

Sabrina looked down at her feet and saw the answer: a stray piece of driftwood, sticking out of the sand proudly. She was convinced that it wasn't there before, but this wasn't the time to think about that. Instead, it was time for a new plan.

The flight portion of this encounter was over. Now it was time for the fight.

Spitting out sand, Sabrina drew herself up and grabbed the piece of driftwood, pulling it out of the sand. It was about forearm length, somewhat heavy, and, miraculously, very dry. Perfect size for swinging.

As she appraised the wood, she saw the figure draw closer, almost upon her thanks to her unscheduled stop. Knowing her luck, they were probably incorporeal, so a blunt instrument alone would probably not do much. So how could she augment this thing?

And then Sabrina remembered the lighter in her pocket. Sure, it failed to light before, but maybe it would work now? As slim of a chance as it was, it was better than none. She drew the lighter out of her pocket and tried to ignite it.

Come on, come on…she thought to herself, as the lighter continued to give her pathetic sparks. Then, after what felt like a hundred attempts and teetering on the verge of despair, there it was: a small flame, holding steady and illuminating its surroundings. For once, Sabrina felt triumphant. It was a tiny flame, but it would do nicely.

As the figure drew closer still, she took the flame to the end of the wood. Before long, the wood was glowing dimly at the tip, to Sabrina's delight. Sure, it wasn't exactly the roaring fire she might have hoped for, but the heat and light would still be enough to dispel the figure. Speaking of which, they managed to approach somewhat over arm's length, with more demotivational rhetoric:

Fighting is pointless…embrace your fate…

"Embrace this, you creepy asshole!" Sabrina shouted, and swung the lighted wood down upon them with full force.

The glowing tip, subdued as it was, seemed to do its job. The figure was bisected cleanly down the middle, and they began to dissipate, emitting a horrible psychic scream. All of the worst sounds Sabrina could think of put together paled in comparison to how awful the screaming was, but it didn't matter. To Sabrina, this was the sound of victory. She had gotten herself out of yet another scrape thanks to the miracle that was fire.

��is what she thought for all of five seconds.

As the figure dissipated, they seemed to be absorbed back into the mist, which began drawing in closer. Sabrina turned to run, but the mist was also drawing in from that direction, and, in fact, all directions. The wind had started up again, howling furiously and calling her name.

Sabrina…Sabrina…

Panic once again began to set in. Sabrina swung the wood around wildly, desperately trying in vain to keep the mist back, screaming in frustration and terror.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" she cried, her swings slowly becoming weaker. In response, the voice seemed only to grow louder.

Sabrinaaaa…SABRINAAAAA…

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Tears had begun to flow from her eyes, blurring her vision as the mist had begun to embrace her. It was cold. So very cold…

SABRINAAAA!...SABRINAAAAAA!...

"Sabrina! Sabrina! Wake up!"

Sabrina felt someone shaking her shoulders. However, rather than an icy grip, they were warm, soft, gentle hands. Kite's hands.

Upon this realization, Sabrina’s eyes shot open. Her vision was blurry, and she could feel moisture on her cheeks. Still, she was able to take in the surroundings and realize where she was: not a dark, mist-filled beach, but the bedroom she shared with Kite, who was currently looking at her with a rather concerned expression on their face.

“Sabrina? Are you okay?” Kite asked. “Talk to me!” If their expression didn’t make it clear how worried they were, their voice certainly did.

While Sabrina struggled to form a response, she felt a sudden breeze, and she shivered in response. For a split second, it was as if she was back at the beach. Before she could scream, however, that notion passed, and instead she mumbled indistinctly.

“What was that?” Kite asked, this time in a gentler tone of voice.

“Cold,” Sabrina managed. She felt the breeze again, but it was much less harsh than the beach winds had been, and certainly nowhere near as cold as the mists or the figure’s grip. This was in spite of her dress shirt and pants having been replaced with the tank top and shorts that were her usual sleepwear. Gradually, she was coming back to reality.

“Oh! The fan!” Kite said. They jumped up from the bed, walked over to the running fan nearby, and turned it off. “Sorry, it was getting a bit stuffy in here.”

“‘S alright,” Sabrina murmured, rubbing her eyes and wiping away the tears that had accumulated on her face. “And I’m fine, by the way. Just had a bad dream, is all.”

“To say the least,” Kite said. “You were thrashing and yelling pretty loudly at the end there.”

“Oh, uh, sorry about that,” Sabrina said. “Didn’t mean to wake you with my bullshit.”

“Never mind that, darling, I’m more worried about your mental state.” Somehow this made Sabrina feel worse than if they were annoyed at being awakened.

“I told you I’m fine, okay? Just a nightmare. Nothing special. I have ‘em all the time, you know this.”

“You were screaming and crying and swinging your arms around for dear life, I’d hardly call that ‘nothing special.’” Kite said sternly, hands on their hips completing the stern teacher look (though Sabrina’s teachers never stood over her wearing a sparkly peach nightgown–at least not outside certain dreams…). “Now then…” They sat back down on the bed next to Sabrina, then gingerly rested their hand on top of hers. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sabrina, not exactly eager to relive whatever that might have been, was fully prepared to end the discussion with a definitive “No.” Then she made one fatal mistake: looking up at Kite’s face. So kind, so sympathetic, so ready to listen, so earnest in their desire to help their fake wife.

Goddamnit.

“Well, if it’ll make you stop asking…”

She then recounted everything in the dream that she could recall, which was a surprisingly difficult task, because many of the details were fading rather quickly from her mind. Still, she was able to tell Kite about the most important things: the beach, the city in the distance, the figure, the mist, and, of course, how cold everything was. Kite listened patiently and didn’t interrupt her, only chiming in once Sabrina had finished.

“Holy shit, that sounds terrifying!” Kite exclaimed. “Alone and separated on a dark beach, surrounded by mist, with a creepy figure slowly chasing you? No wonder you were reacting so violently.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Sabrina agreed absentmindedly. While she was still shaken by the dream, recounting it to Kite had helped her put distance from it, knowing that it was over. Suddenly, she was hit with inspiration. “Y’know, I still don’t remember who I was with before it all went down, but I think it might have been you, after all.”

“And what makes you say that?” Kite asked, a single eyebrow cocked in curiosity.

Without hesitation, Sabrina answered, “It’s because you always keep me warm.”

A surprised look crossed Kite’s face. Even in the moonlight Sabrina could tell that their face was flushing quickly and deeply. Soon she felt the heat rush to their own cheeks as she realized what she had just said. Damn, how was she so smooth at a time like this? She was honestly impressed with herself.

Just as quickly, though, a loving smile crept along Kite’s face. “Well, in that case, how about I warm you up after such a frigid ordeal?” they asked.

Sabrina returned their smile with a wide one of their own. “Hmm, I’d like that very much, actually.”

They laid back down on the bed, Kite drawing their arms protectively around Sabrina, who wrapped her own around their waist. Kite pressed Sabrina’s head close to their chest, and she eagerly leaned into it. As she drifted back to sleep, her last sensations were the feeling of Kite stroking her hair and the reassuring sound of their heartbeat.

It was good to be warm.

#nikky dash #sabrina #kite nye #kabrina #my wriitng #horror

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neshatriumphs · 2 years ago

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Dark Skin Directory

I did one of these for my sideblog BlackFemmeCharacterDependency (BFCD) and... While it’ll take longer on this end to do because there are more prominent figures here than on that one, I thought it would be good to also have one for my main...

EDIT: Okay, so the one that I did for BFCD does not work, so I am posting this one to see if it works, and if not, they’ll both be WIPS until I have the time to repair them

For the purposes of this list and on this page, whenever I say “dark skinned,” I mean a traditional brown crayon or darker. I grew up around Black people, so the words “dark skinned” do not mean the same thing to me as it do to nonblacks.