Deenwood Hall Of Horror {twenty one pilots inspired fiction}

Chapter Eleven - Heavydirtysoul

"You know, you really don't need to sleep in here," Darien said as Bailey set her blankets on the bed.

"Actually I do," she replied. "You need more balm every hour. Besides, you're in withdrawals so you'll be up all night anyway. Might as well have some company."

Darien smiled at her. He sat up, back against the bed. Bailey laid on her stomach facing him.

"So what's your story?" Darien asked, looking at her.

"Well, my parents died when I was really young, so I was thrown into foster care, where I stayed for a lot of my life. I moved around from house to house, one family after the other, no one wanting to adopt me. Until the Madisons. They were good people. My mom was a nurse, and my dad was a surgeon. They met at the hospital. They brought me into their home as a foster child, but did what was necessary to adopt me. Even though they had crazy schedules, they always made time to spend with me. Then they died. The doctor's said it was food poisoning, but I know now it was the Dean," she said.

"I'm so sorry, Bailey," Darien said, looking her in the face. "I can't help but feel I'm partially responsible for this. If I hadn't tried to kill him, maybe he wouldn't have gone this crazy."

Bailey shook her head. "No, Darien. You attempted to stop him. You knew what he was capable of, and to your knowledge, you killed him."

Darien hung his head and sighed. "I guess."

Bailey scooted closer. "You're not the only one here with a broken family, Darien. We have all suffered tremendous loss. You're not alone anymore."

Darien's eyes met hers. "Thank you, Bailey. For everything."

Bailey blushed and looked away. "Of course, Darien."

The two talked for a long time, stopping every hour to apply the pain balm. Around 2:00 a.m., Darien fell asleep. Bailey was still wide awake, watching the tall man below her. His chest rose and fell gently. His face was peaceful for the first time she'd seen, and she was able to admire the beauty of his features. His nose had a slight upturn and his lips formed a perfect pout. His face had filled out a bit more since he'd arrived, but his cheekbones and jawline were still chiseled perfection.

The time came once again for Bailey to administer the balm, but she was hesitant to wake the boy. The wars inside his mind were placated by this deep sleep. The darkness that followed his every move seemed to have lessened in that moment. His face held an air of serenity. Bailey dare not wake him. She laid her head down on her pillow, allowing sleep to overcome her.

A few hours later, Bailey awoke to a tap on her arm.

"Bailey," Darien whispered softly. "Isn't time to reapply the balm?"

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Yes, sorry. I fell asleep." She yawned.

"It's okay, I did too," he said with a smile.

"Here, roll on your stomach," she said, grabbing the tube from the headboard of the bed.

She kneeled over him, resting her weight slightly on his legs. She squeezed a dollop of balm into her hands and began massaging it into his soft skin.

"All done," she said, moving off his legs.

He turned over and looked at her, rubbing his eyes. "The fumes from that stuff makes my eyes water," he laughed. "It has helped an awful lot though."

"Good," Bailey smiled, yawning.

"Lay beside me," Darien said, moving his blanket to make room.