TW: Sexual Assault, Self-Harm, Graphic Violence, Mental Illness. 18+ ONLY.I'm looking for feedback on pacing, dialogue, and whether the psychological horror works. I know it's dark, so please let me know if the trigger warnings are sufficient.Character Profile: Lolita (Luit)• Age: 16• Height: 168 cm (5'6")• Gender Identity: Female (requests she/her pronouns, gets extremely angry if misgendered)• Birth Name: Luit (hates it, goes exclusively by Lolita)• Appearance: Short, strange, shoulder-length hair. Dark hair, but she tries to bleach it blonde (it always turns out yellow). Heterochromia (one brown eye, one green). She thinks her natural eyes are ugly, so she always wears violet-colored lenses. Her skin is naturally very pale.• Clothing: Usually wears a white long-sleeve shirt with pink stripes (sleeves are often rolled up, but sometimes pulled down to hide her arm hair) and greenish shorts.• Weapons: Long, sharpened nails painted violet. A seemingly ordinary lipstick tube, but a slightly rusty utility knife blade sticks out of it.• Mental Conditions: Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD), masochistic tendencies, body dysmorphia, severe perfectionism, OCD, PTSD, and pyromania.
12:30 AM. Maternity ward.Alison Mitchell lay in her room, recovering from anesthesia, surrounded by her family. She had just endured 12 hours of labor for her long-awaited daughter. Then, the nurse walked in, carrying a small bundle in her arms."Congratulations! It's a boy."Silence fell.Instead of the joyful cries of relatives, the congratulations, and the smiles of the mother and father, the air hung heavy with a tension that felt like it could be cut with a knife."What do you mean, a boy? That's impossible! The ultrasound showed a girl! Maybe this isn't my child? Are you sure you didn't mix something up?"The nurse was a bit taken aback by the reaction. She swallowed nervously, her eyes darting to the ID tag attached to the baby's ankle."No, of course not! Th-this is definitely your son! Look. Mitchell, September 25th, 11:13 PM. Weight: 2.6 kg. A little on the skinny side, but that's not critical at all. So there can be no mix-up, this is definitely your child!"The nurse handed the small bundle to the mother. The woman looked at his face and grimaced in disgust. The boy wasn't crying; his little eyes were wide open. And it seemed they were different. One eye was blue, and the other was duller than the first, with a greenish tint.Ugh. What an ugly little freak.
The mother handed her son over to the father. He looked at the baby without any enthusiasm and showed him to the relatives. Their faces didn't show joy either. Slowly, everyone began to leave. Suddenly, the baby's father, William Mitchell, remembered he had urgent, pressing matters and work problems to attend to. He dumped the responsibility of naming their son, who was supposed to be named Louise, entirely on the mother.And just like that, they left Alison alone with her long-awaited "daughter."After some time, they were discharged from the maternity ward and drove home.By the time they arrived, the nursery was already prepared. A room done entirely in shades of pink. There was a crib, toys of unicorns, princesses, and little fairies. A pink pacifier, a pink bottle, pink baby clothes gifted by relatives who had been expecting a girl. Everything was meant for the nonexistent Louise.Luit, as his mother had eventually decided to name him, spent his entire infancy in that pink room, surrounded by girls' toys and girls' clothes. His mother felt no warmth toward her son, and his father even less so.However, whenever Alison looked at her child dressed in those girls' clothes, she imagined that this really was her little daughter, and it became less disgusting to her.
She shamelessly lied to some of her acquaintances, telling them she had given birth to a beautiful daughter named Louise. And they believed her, as there was no reason to doubt it.As he grew a little older, Luit began to wonder: why was he growing up in this kind of environment, and why did his mother call him a girl in front of certain acquaintances? He wasn't a girl at all!At nine years old, he finally asked her about it. In response, he received a barrage of insults, contempt, and a couple of hits. The question of why Luit was being raised as a girl sparked his mother's rage.From that moment on, he never asked her such questions again. He began to believe that he really was a girl, because in this house, there was no other way to survive.When the boy turned 12, his father and mother divorced, and Luit stayed to live with his mother. After some time, she brought a new man into the house, a man who already had a child of his own. A 15-year-old son named Kayo.
From the very first day he appeared in the house, a tense relationship formed between him and Luit. At first, there was complete distance between them. But then Kayo started getting arrogant and began to mock his stepbrother for his feminine appearance and his eyes, calling him a "chameleon."Luit endured it all and paid no attention. After years of living with his mother, accompanied by constant humiliation, he had already gotten used to it.That evening, on Luit's thirteenth birthday, Kayo walked into his room. At night. For no reason. He had never done that before."Well, little chameleon, today you're officially a teenager. Which means you're not a kid anymore."Luit shifted uncomfortably on the bed. God, he hated that mocking tone his stepbrother always used. But he had to save face and not give in to the provocation. His mother usually got irritated by tears and excessive emotions, so Luit had learned to control them."So what? You came to mock me again? And why so late? Couldn't wait until morning?"
Kayo let out a dark chuckle. He hated being disobeyed, especially being talked back to. But the way Luit said it sounded different. And then, a crazy idea popped into Kayo's head. At first, he didn't even believe himself, but he still decided to go through with it."Alright, since you're a grown-up now. Don't you want to grow up for real? I know a way."Luit tensed up. He knew that look. The look someone gives to food. Kayo slowly sat down next to him. Moved closer. Too close.And then, the world went dark.Pain. Sharp. Then the tears, the desperate attempts to break free, and finally, emptiness.Suddenly, a sharp flash of white light exploded behind Luit's eyes. Blinding. A ringing in his ears. Something broke. Switched off.He didn't remember breaking free. He didn't remember digging his nails into Kayo's arms or biting him on the shoulder. Reality snapped back in a rush: his brother jumped back, and Luit was frantically scanning the room. His eyes landed on the sharpened cap of a lipstick tube, one his mother had given him for some reason.
Luit lunged for the table, grabbed it, and without knowing what he was doing, violently plunged it straight into his brother's eye.After that, everything was a blur. A utility knife. Blood. Screams. The shouts of his stepfather and mother from the doorway.Then, a dull blow to the head. And darkness.Luit didn't wake up in his own bed. He woke up in a hospital room. The moment he opened his eyes, he saw a crowd of excited and happy doctors standing around him. He had been in a coma for two years. Then, emptiness again.The next time the boy woke up, he was in a different house. He got out of bed and walked down the stairs. His foster mother and father were already waiting for him at breakfast. Luit had been living there for a few months, but all the days passed by like a blur. It was no longer the pink room. No one forced him to pretend to be a girl or wear women's clothes anymore. He couldn't accept it.
When he was home alone, he would put on his old shorts and his pink T-shirt, and just stand in front of the mirror for hours, staring at himself, searching for flaws. His gaze would constantly fall on his pale skin, the hair on his arms, and his cursed eyes. Chameleon. It echoed in his head every time he looked at himself. Looking at himself in this female image. Looking at his mismatched eyes.He remembered the pain, and then he remembered that rush of dopamine when he plunged the utility knife into soft flesh. Those screams that caressed his ears. That attention, fully focused on him. He loved it and hated it at the same time. But to be loved by others, he had to be perfect. A perfect girl. A killer g—At that thought, panic seized Luit."No. I'm not. That's not me. It can't be. Calm down. Damn it, calm down, you fucking chameleon."
Luit didn't know how to silence the stream of intrusive thoughts. He decided to calm himself down by fixing his flaws. After all, he had dreamed of being perfect his whole life. So why not take a step toward his dream?He took a pair of tweezers from the bathroom and began pulling out his arm hair, one by one. It hurt. It hurt quite a bit. But the pain sobered him up. The intrusive thoughts faded into the background. After a while, both of his arms were smooth. Not a single hair left. But they were completely red."Red. Like cancer, like a tomato, like blood. Blood."That state washed over Luit again. The image of Kayo covered in blood seemed real right before his eyes. He wanted to go to him. To Kayo. To see him. To feel his touch. And to hear... Chameleon.And then, to do what Luit hadn't finished last time."No. No, no, no. That's not from me. Those aren't my thoughts!"
He looked into the mirror in front of him. Eyes. His mismatched eyes. Chameleon. He had to do something about it.The fog returned. He reached into his makeup bag, secretly bought behind his foster mother's back, and pulled out an eyeshadow palette. Color. Let's go with violet. Nothing to complain about then. He swiped a finger across the powder and stabbed it directly into his eye, hoping the iris would dye violet. To make sure the color stayed, he grabbed a can of hairspray and sprayed it directly into his eye. It stings. It burns. Pain. The thoughts quieted down.Luit looked at himself in the mirror. Well, great. Now my eye is red too.He reached into his foster mother's makeup bag and pulled out a pair of contact lenses. She had a lot of them since she had vision problems. Luckily, there were violet ones. Without hesitation, he put them on and looked at himself in the mirror.His eyes were no longer mismatched.
Luit let out a breath. The feeling seemed to let go of him. He looked at his reflection. Perfect. He even forgot about his pale skin.The boy decided to go out for a walk just like this. Into the forest. He had always loved that place. As a child, whenever his mother started throwing hysterics, Luit would often run away right there. It was quiet. Not a single soul around.Maybe that was exactly why the boy always had a lingering feeling that someone was watching him from between the trees.He walked between the tree crowns, along his favorite path. The boy had forgotten a lot after the coma, but he remembered this path as if he had walked it just yesterday. It began to get dark. Luit hadn't noticed how much time he had spent in the forest.Walking back home, the feeling that someone was watching him only grew stronger. Between the tree trunks, he imagined something long and pale. Stop. Pale. Like Luit's skin. No. Not this again. He had to get home faster.
OP is a faggot
The boy started to run, but his body wouldn't obey him. His legs barely dragged. Finally, he fell to the ground. Is this the end? Is he really going to die here?And then he saw it in front of him. That pale silhouette.A humanoid creature in a black business suit, with long arms and legs, and perfectly white skin. White. Pale. Just like his own.Stop. His? What is his name? Louise? No, no, definitely not.And then, a ringing sounded in his ears."Lolita. You. Lolita."The name spun in his head, alongside the ringing in his ears. It was completely unfamiliar to him, yet it seemed so right and natural. So, his name is Lolita.Lolita rose from the ground, staring at the tall figure before him. In its paleness, the boy recognized his own, and it wouldn't let him rest. He needed to get a tan. But how?And then, another sharp ringing in his ears.
"Get a tan. From the word burn."So, he needed to burn. He looked up at the pale figure."Thank you. I understand."And the creature vanished.Lolita's mind was clouded again. As if it wasn't him controlling his own actions. Just like on the night of that incident with Kayo.He resolutely headed to the garage of his foster parents' house. From there, he took a box of matches and a bottle of alcohol. Armed with these, he walked through the neighborhood. Passing by the houses, his own old house kept appearing to him everywhere. The old one. With the pink room and Kayo.Walking to that house in a trance, Lolita rang the doorbell, hiding the matches and the bottle in the backyard. The door opened. Kayo."Luit? What are you doing here?"He was horrified by Lolita's appearance. The red, watery white of an eye behind violet lenses, reddened arms, and women's clothing."Nothing. Just passing by. Decided to check in on you. How are things?"
"Are you seriously asking how things are, after what you did?! Get out of here before..."Kayo smiled ominously."Before I finish what I started that time, chameleon."Something churned inside Lolita. Old memories surged back in a new wave. So, he only managed to force out:"Alright. Goodbye."And the door closed. Everything inside him was shaking with rage. The name "Luit" struck his ears. Everything inside shrank into a tight knot. That name was associated with blood.Lolita went to the backyard to get his things. Taking the bottle, he opened it and started walking off the property, spilling the alcohol along the way. Then, he took out a match. Struck it. It burns. It will burn. Get a tan. Skin will burn!
He brought the little flame to his arm. It stings. Like a bee. At first, the skin turned red. Then it began to char, turning black. Finally, not pale! But this wasn't enough.Lolita lit another match and threw it onto the grass next to the house. The alcohol spilled along the path flared up instantly, and then the house itself caught fire. His mother and stepfather weren't home. They had apparently left Kayo to live on his own after he came of age.Sensing the smell of burning, Kayo tried to run out of the house, but the door was already on fire. So were the windows. There was no way back.Meanwhile, Lolita stepped right into the flames.The heat scorched his face. The flames hissed, devouring the fabric. Pain. Unbearable, blinding pain. He looked at his hands. They were covered in horrific burns, but to him, they seemed so much darker. Tanned. Not pale.
Lolita was finally satisfied with her appearance. She sat down on the grass to watch the house burn down. The crackle of the wooden boards, the faint, wheezing sounds coming from Kayo, and the smell of burnt flesh. After a while, only ash remained. And somewhere in between, lay what was left of Kayo. Just bones.Lolita walked over to him and crouched down, whispering:"The Pale Lord told me how to finally get a tan. It cost you your life. I'm sorry. But my dream. Lolita's dream. Has finally come true."I am perfect.After all these events, Lolita became completely dependent on the Pale Lord, because in Lolita's mind, he had helped make her dream come true.She grew out her nails to kill with them later, digging them into her victims, just as she had once defended herself against Kayo. And she made a lipstick tube her main weapon, shoving the rusty blade of a utility knife inside.
