Sliding down a wall…

What was going on?

Lauren collapsed onto something soft and squishy…

Bright colours… A wall collapsing…

The door opened and light streamed in…

Just let me go back…

Wait. The open door… someone had come in…

“Rig?”

The figure in front of her cursed and raised a hand. Lauren felt a blow to the cheek and then everything vanished once more.

***

A voice, shrill, never-ending, growing louder…

“The cheek of you, bloody unbelievable! To come in here, into my house, when he’s not even here…”

And it faded again, lower and lower until it became an unintelligible mumble, only to rise again and….

“I’m going to blasting kill you, you know that? As soon as I’ve figured out the best way… the most painful way…”

Kill you. Words and memories seemed to filter to Lauren’s brain slowly, as though her head was filled with cotton wool. The memory of Gurgle’s voice cut through the confusion… She will be remembered…

Lauren had to run, to get away from this woman. A weapon… a weapon to manipulate. If only she could open her eyes…

The voice grew louder again and, sadly, this time it did not fade.

“And I’m going to make him watch you die, and then I’m going to kill him with your dead body, somehow. Maybe I can poison you, and then make him eat you, ha – “

Eyes still closed, Lauren tried to pull herself up, but her head was spinning. Slowly, her brain started to chew on the words… make him watch you die… kill him…

“But why… why would you want to kill Rig?”

The voice stopped for a second. Lauren managed to open her eyes and found a young woman’s face within an inch of her own. It mirrored the confusion in Lauren’s swimming brain.

“Rig? What… what are you talking about?” She moved closer. “Are you trying to make fun of me?”

“No!”

Lauren looked around. There was a coat hanger above her… she focused on it and tried to make it move, make it crash down into the woman’s face. The hanger gave a half-hearted wobble, then moved back into its original position.

She was trapped. There was no way out, away from this woman, from Rig, from all the mad people who wanted to sacrifice her to their cause like a lab rat.

“Please… I know I have to die in the attempt, but please…” she looked the woman straight in the eye, with the look she usually saved for her father when she wanted money, “please can I just have my attempt? Please.”

The woman paused, frowning.

“What the hell are you tal– “, she stopped.

A second later, Lauren realised why. The floorboards in the hall creaked. The young woman stepped into the wardrobe and pulled the door closed, leaving just a small gap for her and Lauren to peek through. A young man came in, pulling a woman into the room and pushing her softly against the wall.

“Fuck, Lacey...”

The woman next to Lauren was frowning and balling her hands into fists.

Outside, the man gently dragged Lacey onto the bed. “Ahh, I want to make love to you Lacey, nice and slow. Wait, I’ll just put on my cuddle mixtape…”

“CUDDLE MIXTAPE?”

Lauren’s wardrobe companion burst through the door. The man froze halfway between kissing Lacey and turning to the old-fashioned vinyl player in the corner.

“Scream…”

He attempted a disarming grin but was distracted when the ceiling lamp came crashing down and whooshed through the air towards him. He whirled around and just managed to freeze it an inch from his face. It shattered on the floor.

“Scream, there’s no need for –“ he began, but the rest of the sentence was muffled by the bedsheet. It had risen from the mattress and was attempting to suffocate him. He struggled to fight it off.

“Scream! Enough!”

Scream raged and threw her arms, but remained rooted to the spot. Lacey made the most of Floss’ momentary incapacity by dashing for the door.

“Yeah, that’s right, Lacey! Fuck off! I hope you… die slowly!” Scream screamed after her.

The man was frantically looking around, scrambling for cover. Lauren knew why: She could almost hear Scream’s scorn burning through the shield in front of her; the man knew he had mere seconds of respite left.

“Scream, look…”

But there was no placating her.

“Cuddle mixtape? Make love nice and slow?! For fuck’s sake, Woozle!”

The barrier broke. The man hastily barricaded himself behind the nightstand and some cushions.

“If you were just after hot, spicy sex, maybe, maybe I would have understood, but this…”

The books on the nightstand zoomed towards the man’s – Woozle’s?! – head. He ducked under the pillows.

“But that’s just it!” came his dampened voice. “All we ever have is hot, spicy sex! And we always use some new exotic toy, and we also make it move in some rough, crazy way… I’m tired, Scream! I just… Sometimes I just want you to hold me and…”

“GET OUT!” The nightstand turned and started bashing Woozle’s head in. “Get out now before I kill you!”

Woozle didn’t need to be told twice. He jumped over the bed and disappeared down the hallway.

“Asshole!”

And then there was silence.

Lauren could hear her own breath. It sounded deafening. She was trying her best to turn herself into a chameleon. Chameleons could make themselves invisible, right? Maybe if she just clung to the wall, she could take on the pattern of the flowery wallpaper and…

“Oi! Why are you still here?”

Lauren stopped, caught in the act of hugging the wall and tiptoeing away like some ninja spy in a children’s cartoon. “Excellent question! I’ll, er… I’ll be off then, shall I?” She turned and hastened towards the door, but a noise behind her stopped her in her tracks.

She turned around. Scream was sobbing. Somehow, the sight of this raging, powerful young woman crying shocked Lauren more than anything else she had seen that day.

She made a few hesitant steps towards Scream and carefully placed a hand on her shoulder. What could she say? He wasn’t worth it anyway, you’re better off without him, now you can go and find someone who deserves you… All the usual phrases sounded like such platitudes in her head, when she knew nothing about her, or him.

“I’m sorry.” It was the best she could come up with.

Still facing away from her, Scream shook her head. She straightened her shoulders and ran her hands across her eyes. “No. I am sorry.” She turned and looked Lauren full in the eye. Large, with burning, molten tar in the middle. “I’m sorry I hit you. I thought you were…”

“Don’t mention it. Simple case of mistaken identity.” Lauren tried a nonchalant shrug – and winced. Her head was still pounding.

“But you’re hurt! That one wasn’t me…” She pointed towards Lauren’s temple.

“No. That was your ceiling pane.”

Scream grimaced. “That was me. It was meant for… them. But they never stepped that way.” She gestured towards the bed. “Sit down, I’ll fix it.”

Lauren wobbled across the room and collapsed on the bed.

“I’ll have to look into your eyes for this. Don’t look away.” The mattress sagged as Scream sat down beside her.

Lauren let the molten tar lakes fill her vision, deep and dark, but with bright sparks shooting through the liquid. Scream’s eyes seemed to overflow with the intensity of her gaze. With each second, the temptation grew to laugh and look away, but Lauren held on until –

“There,” Scream said softly. “Better?”

“Oh…” Only now did Lauren notice that the pain was gone, replaced by a soft, comforting feeling, as though her head had been filled with warm syrup. “Yes.” She smiled.

Scream's eyes found hers again and for a moment, they just sat there, taking each other in.

They looked up when they heard footsteps in the hall.