A story of three tales, this being the first, which takes place on Earth, and a supernatural planet called 'Solace'. A peculiar girl called Gray who meets a very strange man in the middle of a park at the dead of night, and a very strange lady in black, who happens to know everything about her.
Part One: Peculiar Incidents.
The nightmare was just too incredible that she had to capture it on canvas. The easel was already set up with a new A2 canvas fitted, so all that was needed were some old clothes, her hair thoroughly tied back and for her, wearily, to take her treasured choker off. Painting at this hour, she was surprised she could mix the paints so well. The nightmare had such a spectrum of colours that it took a good half an hour to get every colour exactly the way she had pictured it but before she knew it, dark rouges, silver greens and dirty yellows were appearing on her palette. Paintbrushes in one hand, palette in the other and a pot of linseed oil by my side. Time to create her perfect image.
A long flat red sable brush flowed easily on the canvas, staining it with a wash of light scarlet and mustard, to represent the skyline involuntarily watching the chaos mounting below it, and even through it, as some of them had taken to the skies now, represented by strokes of charcoals and coppers and creams, ripping each other's wings apart and enduring pleasure rather than remorse. Within the dream, the sun was nowhere to be seen and the moon, though its light still shone upon the disarray, had been soiled with blood as if it had also been in battle. Down below she filled out splattered beige coloured mountains and ruined teal fields, where even ghosts had permitted themselves to witness the terror, gazing on amongst the prairie. Special detail had to be taken to paint the luminous sight of a navy forest; its huge limbs almost sweeping the skyline, the incandescent light illuminating the thick navy trunks and the odd vines or snakes suffocating it as they crawled up; the opaque leaves. Banshees, she still can hear their wailing now as she paints them in that forest, their drained hollow faces hooded, desperate to carry on their torment to any passerby, though the many dryads and centaurs paid no attention as they fought fiercely among the ferocious giants towering the trees and destroying their sacred land.
Taking a step back and examining what she had created so far, Gray added details here and there to perfect her unfinished masterpiece and then looked all around her room, where other large canvases covered every inch her bedroom walls. They showed similar landscapes and creatures, even herself, but none like the nightmare she had today. Somehow she felt it held some significance to her. She suddenly felt her stomach as it squirmed around and immediately pictured Elliott. Her hands trembled at the thought of him being near her once more. She sighed and, giving her brushes a thorough clean, she dived eagerly back into creation.
Grey sands and demolished buildings mapped themselves out in quick succession to the right of the forest. There lay endless dead bodies scattered among the ruins whilst the anarchy raged on throughout. One particular Lycan stood, crushing the head of a warlock and gazing up at the beautiful sky where its brown and gold fur shone, proud of what it had accomplished so far as his neighbours howled alongside him like servants admiring their master. Around them, some yards back crouched a wounded vampire, devouring the blood of a wingless cherub. To the left of her a vile five foot ogre flinging a bleeding elf into the sky and an enormous dragon, amazing in all its glittering gold and garnet, surrounded like a human underwater, struggling to defend itself from harpie after harpie after homicidal harpie. Emerald. The colour of blood slithering away beyond the mountains from bodies of beautiful sirens, now singing sorrowfully to each other against the black ocean bay as the murky waters slapped and roared against them, burning their flesh like acid. She also managed to capture, which took a lot of time, the distinguished image of the mighty Kraken, who was dragged from its sleep to join the disarray for its amusement, as she added stroke upon stroke for its many lengthy tentacles escalated into the air, snatching down amphithere and chimera in mid-flight.
What was most extraordinary was through all the slaughter and sorrow, all of them had failed to notice the magnificent sight soaring the skies. A large phoenix, rich in flaming carrot and crimson, circled the chaos as if sent down from the heavens, spreading its tears across the landscape. She had almost finished this, when all of a sudden the picture began to move of its own accord, setting her masterpiece in motion. Her mouth hung open in awe as she watched what she had originally dreamt. The giant swung its hammer, crushing its opponents, the banshees' heart-bleeding screeches could be heard throughout the room, the gorgons snakes slithered upon her rivals' stone bodies. Ghosts swarmed in and out of the continuous battles as fairies bled to death from the vicious blows of Minotaur. The phoenix was just about to swoop down and spread its wings when someone threw her door open, knocking off some of her canvases pinned to the wall.