FIRST RUNNER-UP

Delusions

Silent whispers could be heard in each corner of the obscure night. Whispers from the moon and stars, whispers from the wind. Tales of love and amity, of loss and despair. Tales of death and blood, of magic and reincarnation.

Tales of delusion.

"Oh, I know that tale!" chirped a cute little girl while pointing at the big old book of fairy tales being held by the blonde male.

Protected under the ever glowing warmth of the mansion, there was nothing to fear. And so, afraid they were not for they had long been blinded from what the bleak future might bring. Or what it might not.

The dark haired girl giggled, "Okay, go on, come and tell us."

The little girl stepped up with the biggest most innocent smile,

"Once upon a time..."

Candlelight dimming as midnight fell over the enchanting city that was Paris. Its specks of light slowly flickering into nothing, living a thin cloud of smoke behind. Upon ending the story, the littlest had gone home, leaving the rest of the night for the joyant teens.

The vast mansion had been properly decorated according to the occasion. Candles had been lightened through every stop and turn of the residence. Their hypnotizing and ever so dizzying aroma rising up into the air with each and every flick of the flame. Great panels of glass which had once been crystal clear were now the deep red color of blood. Such magnetizing color being cast under the gleaming moon.

A beauty in dress glided her bluebell eyes through the luminous ballroom, eager to meet those emerald pools of light that puzzled her mind and numbed her senses. The girl still surprised that mighty Mr. Agreste had agreed to invite Parisian kids to his home to celebrate the spooky season.

"Marinette," his smooth and ever so captivating voice interrupted her musing.

Rapidly, she spun around, meeting a pair of gleaming emeralds, lips molded into a heartwarming smile. Almost immediately, a soft melody, like a lullaby, started playing.

Adrien bowed with a small smile, his rosy cheeks darkening in color slightly, "May I have this dance?"

Marinette returned the smile with a shy gaze, offering her hand, "Yes, you may."

The male took her hand, giving it a light squeeze. Taking a step towards her, he took the risk to place his hand on the small of her back, bringing her closer. Marinette could do nothing but stare at those mesmerizing green eyes of his, those beaming lights that utterly hypnotized her mind and ignited her heart.

And they spinned, round and round under the moon through those blood red panels, and the candles died away with their night, their intoxicating scent becoming heavier in the air. That scent like poison that produced thin clouds of smoke that would fill the festive space. Thin yet so thick that it invaded your senses, your sole being; now disfiguring the joyous faces of those who came in contact to it, those who attempted to escape from it.

But Marinette couldn't notice, she wouldn't notice. Those faces that surrounded her, all so young and hopeful, now blighted by the poison that was the aroma, transformed into a horrible canvas of dripping sentiment. Their bright smiles, their twinkling eyes had died away like those candles, being morphed into an intangible yet so sickening image.

And then there were cries, whimpers, and more whispers. The window, which had converted this scenery into something even more horrific; those transfigured faces tainted with the deep red of blood, was now being pounded by a mysterious figure.

But the girl could hear nothing but the pounding of her own heart and that lullaby that rang ever the loudest in her mind. Her breaths coming out shallow, more in anticipation than any effect of the scent. Lips inching closer to those she had wanted to meet long ago.

And then, they moulded with hers as their breaths became one. She savored his lips with the hopes of remembering that taste of his, ever so intoxicating and addictive that gave her an overdose. A second later, ther parted. His darkened eyes traveled back to her reddened lips, tracing their producing shape with his finger.

"Adri--" She stopped, her hearing, her sight, her senses coming back to her along with the agonizing voices that moaned in pain.

Marinette's widened eyes traveled through the room, a breathless gasp finding itself out of her lips as she witnessed the mortifying sight. Glistening tears threatened to fall from her searing eyes that now met a new pair of green.

"Chat."

But he wasn't looking at her, not entirely. His eyes focused on her abdominal region, impaled by a sharp glistening blade that reflected the panel's red blood and that of her own. Her light pink dress slowly drenching in that scarlet red liquid that oozed with its characteristic aroma.

Her eyes traveled back to Adrien whose eyes had darkened into a black void and whose lips formed a gruesome smile, his fingers colored with blood.

Marinette's trembling body gave in, her falling on her knees when a pair of strong arms caught her.

"Marinette," Chat breathlessly said. "You're going to be okay Princess, I promise."

He looked up at Adrien, himself, to find him gone. How could that happen?

Or did it?

He looked down upon feeling Marinette's weak squeeze on his arm. He clear dark blue strands of hair away from her face, clear beads of sweat covered her forehead. She shut her eyes tightly, a single tear sliding down her pale cheeks and down to her dry red lips,

"Before I..." she breathlessly gasped, with every word that scarlet fountain flowed with greater power.

"Marinette, don't," Chat whispered, tears of his own now lightly coating her pale skin.

"No, you need to know," she continued, ever so stubborn. "I--"

He opened his eyes to find hers staring at him, her blue lights empty, dimmed under the moon.

"No, no! Marinette," he sobbed quietly, looking into her lifeless bluebell eyes.

He remained that way, his eyes on hers, until he noticed a dark figure reflected on them. He turned around, his eyes traveling to the figure that made its entrance. Eyes widening as she stepped into the blood red light.

"Ladybug?" Came his silent voice which turned into a gasp once he took a proper look at the female's face.

Her mask had been broken, shredded to pieces. An eye darker in color reflected his image and that of Marinette, who lay on his lap, and the never dimming color of blood that surrounded them. And her mouth, half of her lips along with her face had been thorned, ripped, flesh still left hanging from the black string that stitched half her mouth up into a smile, droplets of blood continued to fall from it creating a darkened path of blood down her chin and neck.

"It's your time to part," she said with a soft hushed voice that was not her own.

She rose her palm, and with that, the thick aroma of the burning candles, and the never ending cries of pain returned. It all came back as a cloud of agonize and death.

"Wait..." Chat whispered but it had been too late for he had inhaled the scent, blood dripping from his dry mouth, eyes wet with tears as he collapsed over the bluenette.

With a gasp, Adrien woke up, thick beads of sweat rolling down his sun kissed skin. It had all been a dream. His trembling fingers ran along the golden of his hair, coated with sweat and clear droplets of water.

Now he remembered.

He had gone back home after a long day at school. He had taken a hot shower, water so hot it had seared his skin ever the slightest and had formed thin clouds of seam around his vast washroom. And finally, he had taken a nap that had extended up until midnight.

He sighed, willing himself to stand up. Moonlight poured down the clear panels of glass, they weren't red anymore. They had never been. With numb steps he went back to the washroom, he needed some cold water to turn him back to his senses.

Still coated in a thin cloud of white steam, he made his way to the polished white sink. With closed eyes he willed himself to erase all those images that had engraved themselves in his baffled mind. Marinette's limp body on his lap, her lifeless blue eyes void like the vasts of space. Time frozen into agonizing cries of pain as he had collapsed over her. Dead.

His eyes opened as he directed them to the clear mirror. His heart racing into an impossibly fast speed, hammering his ribcage, piercing his chest. Silenced cries leaving his parted lips with each breath he took.

Half his lips were now carved into that sickening smile. Scarlet beads cascading down his neck like beaming droplets of rain that stained his tanned skin. His lip tugged up gruesomely by a white string drenched in the same scarlet liquid. Pieces of flesh thorned, the insides of his mouth uncovered, that bright red color displayed for everyone to see.

Salty tears rolled down his cheeks forever searing his face at the stinging contact with the blood and the repulsive cut. His lips now quivered as he remained from crying out and giving in to the agonizing pain.

His eyes traveled back to the mirror, now blurred by the endless white steam that had become thicker. Word forming themselves along the smooth panel.

It read:

Delusions. Or are they?

-Ladybug