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Writing this wiki gets me nervous. I have to remember the suffering I had gone through.
But I noticed a pattern in the system, the more I tell, the more she seems to go away...
It all started on a night of October.
I had this dream. I was in this really dark room. It was full of mirrors, from the walls, to the ceiling and floor, reflecting nothing but the darkness. I remember seeing a woman, probably in her late twenties, in the middle of it all, and I was in a corner. She was crying.
She actually had long, straight copper brown hair that covered her face and was wearing somewhat like a ruffled light blue ballerina gown. As of what seemed like consumed half the time of the dream, she was sobbing.
I silently walked over to her, wondering. I asked her if she was okay, she didn't respond. Eventually, I lent her a hand to stand up, trying to comfort her (as her crying was getting in my nerves!). She looked at me with black as death pupils surrounded by bleeding red eyes, almost staring.
She grabbed my hand when I was about to take a step back. Her flesh, though. It was what disturbed me. Like an average dream, you'd feel what was happening as if it actually was...but her touch. The woman's skin felt like dough. Like clay. Too soft, as if it was of a deceased person. Undead flesh, I guess.
I tried to break free. I demanded it. The second I budged from her grip, she fell to the floor. I saw a horrible sight. Her legs were separated from the rest of her body. I was, of course, aware it was all a dream, so I tried to imagine a new one. It didn't work. The dream remained and continued.
I felt like I had no other option, so I ran. Ran to the deepest corners of the room. Every time I looked back, she was merely inches from where I was, crawling on the floor with her gown soaked in blood. So I stopped looking back and just ran.
Then, I reached a door. When I opened it, the room on the other side was completely opposite from where I was. The room was so bright and white. I entered it and was about to close the door behind me. I found her body there on the doorframe. Lifeless, and smiling.
I quickly shut the door and tried to wake myself up... All that happened is that I heard music from the dark room.
I hesitated for a moment, but opened the door anyway. I found the woman whole, clean and alive just inches away from where I was standing. She was dancing. She then looked at me and smiled, extending out a hand. When I was about to reach for it, I looked at her and saw the exact look on her face when she first faced me.
After that I woke up. A name then wrote in my memories. "Belle."
Naturally, I laughed about it for a couple of days. I even drew her and imagined her with a few of my characters, turning her into a side plot. But I was proven wrong the next week.
I started to see her in the mirrors, standing next to me. Sometimes I hear her humming in my ears and I see her sitting on the floor when I stare too long.
Sometimes, she invades my thoughts, her face popping out of the blue. Or the dream repeats itself.
My friends noticed my paranoia. Then wrote the story in a notebook, not even caring who reads it. When I did this, she slowed to a stop. I don't think she was contagious. Heck, I don't even know HOW her mechanics work. But all I know is that she stopped (for a while?) and for that, I'm grateful. Belle was the only person/object that made me so scared that I couldn't even imagine. Even after the incident, I can still feel her presence in my mind.