Sleep Like The Dead
AUTHOR: Nicole K
EMAIL: heliodore228@yahoo.com
RATING: M for violence
WARNING: **** CHARACTER DEATH ****
SPOILERS: anything current (up to Sept '00) and the recent spate of ads
<g>
ARCHIVE: W17
SUMMARY: Rose's delusions have an effect on Terri.
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of
the All Saints creators. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment
not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was
intended. Previously unrecognised characters and places, and this story, are
copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is
coincidental and not intended by the author.
FEEDBACK: Absolutely! :)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, this crazy piece was inspired by the whole "Rose is a
manic-depressive" development, of which I wholeheartedly approve and would
like to take this opportunity to applaud the scriptwriters and their wonderful
foresight <g>. I would like to add that I've continued from the
manic-depressive episodes a little in here (as I'm sure you'll find out) and
launched straight into my ever-favourite "crazed psychopathic killer"
storyline...
Copyright (c) 2000 Nicole K
"Nobody feels like I do
I've been walking, walking in the shadows of you
I tried pushing I tried shoving
I tried hating you, even tried loving you"
~ "Then I Walked Away", Wendy Matthews
(used without permission)
I tiredly turned my key in the lock until I heard the latch click back, before
pushing the door open and dragging myself inside. Exhausted, I leant my back
against the wooden slab to close it and fumbled behind my back to re-engage the
lock. I sighed, threw my bag in the general direction of the lounge and trudged
blindly towards my bedroom.
"God, I could use a day off."
The ward had been overcrowded, over-stressed and understaffed for the last
eleven days courtesy of a low number of available casual staff and more than the
usual number of absentee regulars. As a result I had been working longer hours
with short and minimal breaks, if any at all, and felt like doing no more than
just sleeping until *all* the dogged fatigue was neutralised, the only problem
being I still had to work the next day.
Acting purely by instinct and familiarity, I tug off my uniform and pile the
garments in a crumpled heap on the floor before pulling on a bedraggled pair of
flannelette pajamas. I crawl towards my pillows and slide beneath the sheets,
drawing them around my shoulders and tucking the ends under my chin.
The last thing that registers before sleep claims me is that perhaps I should
have opened a window.
~*~
"Good morning." I stop at the front desk and pick up the small pile of
messages with my name attached that never seems to disintegrate.
"Good?" Von asks sourly.
"Morning?" Conner piped in. "Already? I've been here for the last
twelve hours - everything's beginning to blur."
"Yes, I know. You're... *we're* all overworked and I *am* trying to sort
this out, but I do appreciate you all still being here."
"If only they paid decent overtime."
I smiled loosely and walked with my messages into my office. Closing the door, I
shrugged off my jacket while I walked across the room and hung it over the back
of my chair. Depositing my bag under my desk and the messages to the right of
the phone I noticed the long, slender, white box on the centre of the wooden
surface.
"Who..." I murmured, examining the box fruitlessly for a name or card.
"Ok, from person or persons unknown." Carefully I slid off the simple,
white ribbon which hugged the base and lid of the box together, placing it down
atop the messages I had been handed earlier, and with my left hand, I lifted the
lid.
Inside the box lay a slender bouquet of black roses. *Dead*, black roses.
Depositing the lid on the chair behind me, I reached into the box and fingered
one of the buds, its petals promptly slipping from the head of the flower.
I frowned. "Why... Who?"
Picking up the lid, I placed it back on the rim of the box, and walked
purposefully back to the front desk. "I don't suppose anyone knows who may
have left a box on my desk?"
Von looked at me curiously. "No idea - haven't had time to think. A
box?"
I waved dismissively at her. "Oh, it's nothing. Just another load of
paperwork." Feeling slightly perplexed, but not having the time to worry
about it, I headed back into my office. Surely whoever had left the offering on
my desk would mention something at a later time?
Collecting the box, I deposited it in the far corner of my office, very much out
of the way. I had enough problems to deal with without worrying about some
trivial flowers.
~*~
Closing the door to my apartment behind me, I habitually reached for the light
switch with my left hand and flicked the switch.
The lights remained off.
"Strange." I leant over and randomly toggled the switch from off to
on, on to off, and back on again.
The room stayed black.
"I could have sworn there were lights on next door," I mused, shaking
my head. Slinging my bag onto the couch, I headed towards the kitchen. Reaching
for the light switch, I toggled it with no response.
I shrugged. "Maybe the power's just out." Instinctively I walked
towards the phone, lifting it to my ear and listening for a dial tone. There was
none. "Ok... and the phone line's down too." Replacing the receiver, I
headed towards the bathroom. "Not that it matters - I think sleep is my
first priority."
Yawning slightly, I trudged into the bathroom and pulled the curtains wide open,
allowing in through the small opening what little light there was on the street.
Out of habit, I turned towards the sink and mirror, only to find the mirror
wasn't there. Or, more correctly, the frame was still hanging on the wall, but
the reflective glass was not.
I frowned. "I could have sworn it was here this morning." Shaking my
head, I looked down to turn on the basin tap.
Almost immediately I jumped back. The basin was full almost to the brim with a
red-laced liquid, and glittering in the bottom I could discern the outline of at
least one shard of glass, no doubt from the missing mirror.
"Do you always talk to yourself when no-one's around?" a voice coolly
asked me.
I spun towards the doorway and let my eyes run over the outline of the person
standing in the doorway. "Rose," I acknowledged. Her token childlike
appearance was set off by the gleam in her eyes and the glass shard running
through her fingers. She looked wild, she looked innocent.
She looked deadly.
"Well? You didn't answer me."
I watched with morbid fascination as the sharpest tip of the mirror shard drew
patterns randomly on her skin. "It's the same as thinking, only
louder."
"It's the first sign of insanity." She took a step forward. "Do
you know why I'm here?"
My eyes remained fixed on the glass in her hand. "I know that this could be
classed as trespassing... breaking and entering..."
"Oh, wait." Rose dug around in a pocket and pulled out a set of keys.
"I believe you'll find these fit your locks."
"You copied my keys?" I asked incredulously.
"No..." she shook her head. "I didn't copy them. *You* did. For
him." When I didn't respond, she continued. "I found two keys hidden
in my darling husband's wallet. So I copied *them*." Her mouth curled into
a smile, and her eyes glinted a little in the moonlight. "They didn't fit
any locks that I could find anywhere, so I asked myself *why* he would hide keys
in his wallet instead of leaving them on a key ring with all the others."
She shrugged mildly. "The only answer I could come up with was that he
didn't want me to find them."
I said nothing. Instinct told me she knew the story anyway, and would much
rather tell it on her own.
"So I followed him one night." She laughed, and her eyes drank in the
room's appearance. "You see, he'd been getting these phone calls at odd
times, sometimes he said they were from you, others he said nothing. So after
finding the keys I followed him. He ended up here." She laughed again, this
time not so casually. "I should have known." My eyes followed the
mirror shard as her hands waved erratically. "One day when I knew you'd
both be working I came by and tried my copies in your door, and what do you
know, they fit."
Rose took another step forward and began waving the mirror fragment in the air.
"I'm here because I cannot... *will* not let you break up my family."
"I'm not breaking up anything."
"He visits here in the dead of night when he should be with *me*. He has
keys to your apartment. Just how stupid do you think I am?" She reached out
and drew the mirror fragment slowly across my cheek, and I took a step backwards
out of her reach.
The bathroom in my apartment was small; it afforded little room to manoeuvre out
of Rose's grasp, and little opportunity to find a way around her altogether.
Needing more distance between us in order to feel comfortable, I took another
step backwards only to find myself solidly backed up against the shower.
Feeling a little desperate, my mind spinning with various scenarios of how I
might be able to get out of here, I kept my eyes firmly focused on the glass
fragment in Rose's hand. "You're crazy."
"Crazy?" Rose laughed. "I don't think so. I'm merely protecting
what is mine." She walked calmly forward, and as she touched the tip of the
mirror shard against my chest I clambered instinctively into the closest refuge
I could find: the shower cubicle.
"If he's yours, where did this come from?" I reached under the collar
of my blouse and pulled out a chain with a simple gold band hanging from it.
Rose's eyes widened. "He wouldn't."
"He did."
Rose took another step forward, standing with one foot in the shower and one
foot out.
"You know, I never trusted you." Rose's mouth twisted into a leering,
maniacal grin. "And now," she announced, twirling the sharp fragment
in her hand, drawing eerie patterns in front of my face. "I get to do
something about it."
In that first instant when the shard pierced my skin and ripped viciously
through my left chest cavity, I felt nothing. But the instant passed faster than
the weakest flash of lightning, and all that was left was blinding pain, and the
knowledge that even if I could make it to a phone, I'd be dead before anyone
found me.
The makeshift blade sliced across my right cheek; I choked at the sound of my
ripping flesh and winced as I felt the tip scrape across my teeth and gums.
I felt the fragment dive towards my heart, and the last thing I remember hearing
was Rose's voice.
"I *will* have him. And if the only way to do that is to get rid of the
competition, then that's what I'll do."
~*~
*And it looks like another beautiful day, but remember there could be a late
change so don't leave those jumpers at home just yet...*
As it had done so many other mornings, my arm shot out and fumbled for the
snooze button on my alarm clock. I yawned and rubbed my eyes, before deciding
the only way I was ever going to wake up was to get out of bed. Throwing aside
the covers, I climbed out of bed and shuffled towards the bathroom.
Upon reaching the doorway my mind flashed me a strange image of water and blood,
pain and death, and I shook my head resolutely remembering my dream.
"It's just a dream."
Walking up to the mirror, I critically examined my reflection before brushing my
fingers through my hair. "Just a strange dream. You need more sleep,"
I told myself.
I went through my typical morning routine - shower, breakfast, and a quick,
semi-effective tidy-up - before grabbing my bag and running out the door.
Upon arriving at work, I did the usual things: asked about messages, checked
that everything was running smoothly, and grabbed a coffee. As I sat down at my
desk with a decent amount of paperwork and messages, I noticed the long, slender
box resting next to my phone.
Placing my collection of documents down on an empty space, I reached for the box
and tugged at the ribbon securing the lid and the base. Inside, resting
peacefully, was a bouquet of roses. Black roses.
Suspiciously *dead* looking black roses.
Without a second thought I reached for the phone and efficiently dialed a number
from memory.
"Hi. It's me. I think she knows."
Email the author: Nicole K