Chapter One: The Puppeteer

Chapter One:
The Puppeteer

White.
The color means many things to different people.
Innocence,
Virtue,
Hope,
Mystery,
but to me,
the color meant love.
He often wore white,
smelled of white,
tasted of white.
When he reached his hand to save me from the darkness that was oppressing me,
his hand felt of white.

White.
It's hard to think of such of color when my life began with shades of gray.


It had been a dreary day. Rain pelted the earth and stars remained hidden in the evening sky. Not a single human stirred on the Earth, it was quickly approaching midnight.
Or so I had been told.
The woman in the bed next to begged to released.
"Get me out of here.....Get me out of here...."
And a nurse would walk in, tend to her growing list of needs, glance over cautiously to my own bed, and quickly avert her eyes, acting as if a single glance would infect her with what I was.
The woman's cries were silenced for the evening. Her eyes grew heavy and fell asleep with a light snore. Soon all that could be heard was the rain.
I sat from my own bed and stared thoughtlessly at the woman. She had been new here, one of the many women to come and go, yet there was a particular oddity about her.
Perhaps it was the way she never glanced into my eyes.
Perhaps it was the way she never asked of my condition.
She never brought up the usual hospital conversations.
Tales of my condition were usually short lived,
not a single doctor in world had any idea of what was wrong with me.
I called it magic,
the others called it,
illness.
Leaving me locked up in this hospital for five years.
I never understood these creature I live among,
these creatures called humans.
A slight sound of heels on wood echoed mixing with the stir less evening. The nurses followed the same path under the light the moon each shift, guarding their patients like hounds, unleashing a vicious snarl with the smell of escape.
"Get me out of here....Get me out of here...."
The woman's cries began again with violent thrashings, saliva poured from her mouth dripping down her chin staining her gown with droplets of moisture. Panic formed in her eyes mixing with the look of craze similar to a rapid dog, her voice continued to echo within the room floating to the ground and settling like the petals of a rose.
"GET ME OUT OF HERE!"
The rose floated through the air dropping petals with each wail of freedom, the sound of heels grew more rapid on the wood, a massive crash of human weight fell lifeless to the floor. Her gown had been almost pulled all the way up in her struggle, the same words replayed from her mouth, increasingly becoming more crazed, the doorway opened at that moment, and the same nurse who treated her earlier now wore a blunt look of disbelief. And for the first time in five years, the nurse looked my way.
"What...what happened?...WHAT DID YOU DO?!"
"Get me out of here...get me..." the last petal floated to the floor and mixed with the blood that stained the Earth.
She had died.
Silence.
Blood ran across the floor from her mouth.
My eyes remained fixed on her hair,
golden.
The same words fell from the woman's mouth in a cascade of fear,
what did you do?
What did you do?
"I did nothing." The first time I have spoken in five years, my voice hoarse and flat, barely audible.
But she had heard enough.
Her hand rose in front of eyes,
and struck my skin like hot coils.
I stood motionless, my hand caressing where she had struck.
"I should have known you would of done something like this! Look at you! You've been here five years and have not aged a day! You're a monster! You're.....inhuman!"
I let a slight laugh fall from my own mouth.
"Inhuman? Is that what you call it?..Inhuman..."
My hand moved across my skin, aching still where she had struck.
"Perhaps you are right." My voice gained more strength at that moment, "perhaps I am not an ordinary human being."
Silence.
She stood to her feet and moved out of the room, her heels clamping against the floor in a much more hurried pace.
I was left alone with the smell of blood.
It was several minutes before I got the strength in my legs to move again, I kneeled down beside the woman and took one last glance at her hair; I noticed the way it felt in my hands, a slight smell of lye mixed with the rust of blood, the surge of life I felt in my fingers.
"Rise." I commanded
The woman rose to her feet.
Her eyes bore a deathly look, her hair coiled around my fingers allowing me to easily control her arms, she moved across the floor with flowing grace, her hospital gown streamed like the most beautiful dress of a ballerina; her legs slender, she was dancing.
For the first time in five years a smile formed across my face.