Downfall

~Author's note: This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual events is purely coincidential. Once again this story is written to entertain, ONLY to entertain.
So no money or profit for that matter is being made from this. As much as I love Hellraiser, it does NOT belong to me, it belongs to Clive Barker. Chapter title credit goes to the Dutch band Grendel. This is because their song Contorted Angel was the inspiration for this chapter. :) Now that I'm done ranting, enjoy. :p


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Doctor Radich’s Log, September 24th, 2 AM

Patient’s fits are increasing, only this time she was found with several cuts and open wounds on her arms and legs.

They appeared to be inflicted by something sharp, like a knife.

Some even strangely enough appeared to be inflicted by something like a sharp hook.

I have no other explanation for this except that she did this to herself.

I see no other alternative but to observe her nightly activities starting tomorrow.

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Doctor Radich’s Log, September 25th, 2.35 PM

Patient refuses to talk about what happened to her last night.

She won’t say whether or not she did this to herself, all she talks about is the demons.

I have asked her to describe these demons for me, and what she told me was in some aspects disturbing.

She told me these demons live inside this puzzle box she calls a Lament Configuration, and they came out when she solved it in the hope of finding answers to her friend’s death.

Ever since then she has been seeing these “contorted Angels” as she calls them wherever she goes.

She sees them in every face, hears them in every voice, until they show themselves at night.

She says they all take pleasure in her pain, in her sorrow, in her suffering.

When asked again to describe these “contorted Angels” to me, she just stared at the floor terrified before looking at me.

She said they are all dressed in black leather, almost armour like outfits, with sharp instruments hanging from their waists on chains and wire that seemingly goes through their skin.

The patient suspects they might've been human once, but not anymore.

Not after whatever had sent them refashioned them to it’s own image.

She said they are all mutilated in their own twisted way, but they don’t seem to mind.

In fact they seem to feel beautiful this way and rearrange their cold dead flesh intentionally to feel some sort of pain.

I shudder at the thought of something like this coming out the mind of a teenager.

She must be observed more closely.

Doctor Radich’s Log, September 29th, 5.46 PM

One of the nurses handed me these three drawings about an hour ago.

They were drawn by the patient, or Lucil as she likes to be called.

I must say what she has drawn is quite remarkable.

The detail is quite something.

I will describe the first one.

It appears to be a woman wearing a tight but flowing black leather dress with wounds across her stomach that is kept open by, what appears to be, hooks.

She appears to be quite a beautiful young lady with her dark red, wavy, thick waist long hair, but her eyes seem to betray her.

Lucil has made her eyes completely pitch black but her irises an almost glowing red.

I can’t quite place it but I can almost feel the malevolence coming off this creature in waves, even though I still firmly believe this is all in Lucil’s head.

The name Misery is written as if screaming underneath the picture.

The second one is rather intriguing.

She has drawn a man, wearing some kind of armor like, black leather body suit with several wounds symmetrically going over his chest.

She has made them as red as possible and made them run slightly as if trying to recreate that the wounds are bleeding.

The way she has drawn this man’s face however… is rather strange.

She has made the right side of his face contorted, twisted, while the left side is untouched.

The right side shows a… well, rather a mess than a face.

It’s right eye appears to be missing, and it’s mouth pulled back by wire and small hooks to reveal his teeth, formed in an almost sadistic smile.

The left side of his face on the other hand shows quite a handsome man with a very piercing green eye that is staring out at me from the drawing.

Even though it’s just a drawing, I feel watched.

Lucil has dubbed this one as Chatterer / Tyler.

Again the almost screaming writing.

The third one has caught my utter most attention.

While the other two are interesting enough in itself, this one is the icing on the cake.

I can tell she has put some time in this one.

The drawing shows a man wearing what I can only describe as something a priest would wear, only made out of black leather.

Six symmetrical open wounds decorate his chest, the tips of his fingers a faint red.

His face is intriguing yet terrifying at the same time.

His head seems to be completely decorated with pins or nails, all symmetrically placed in straight, vertical and horizontal lines.

His eyes are a complete pitch black and seem to show a knowledge I don’t dare to guess.

Yet his face shows nothing but calmness.

If this creature was real I would hate to be alone with him in the same room.

But of course he isn’t.

If anything, he is just another representation of Lucil’s madness.

A madness that seems to be growing every day.

The title she has given this unholy priest is the Prince Of Pain.

A rather disturbing title if you ask me.

Lucil is sedated at the moment because of an attempt to escape, but when she wakes up I will be sure to mention these drawings to her.

I need to know where she gets these ideas from to create these beings.