A/N- Haven't been online for a while, well online properly! Just a really short one shot about Vinny Love ( I really love him and the idea behind him, I know nothing really about how he wakes up but this is my very short interperatation! Hope you enjoy! :D)
Please review though, I love the criticism and help!
Waking up from a really long sleep is what it felt like, well that was basically what it was. Just a 30 year sleep, no big deal you think as the glinting eyes of madness incarnate pierce through your blurry vision as the wooden darkness envelopes you.
You fidget, mechanical fingers scrape what seems frantically on the side of your natural prison. The frantic scraping of gold is in reality a drugged finger making splinters move as your befuddled brain tries to figure out your now desperate situation. A sigh turns into a cry of pain as the finality of the last nail is effectively hammered in, the panic tries its best to set in but the rest of you shuts down, leaving you with an uneasy feeling of disintegrating, dissolving, dying.
You feel like your flying, or is it falling?
You have no idea but you like it, anything better than the silent subconscious whose to busy keeping you alive to talk. You have your eyes closed, they have been permanently glued shut for years, literally. You don't like the introduction of a new feeling, wheezing and slow beat of a heart that pumps for no one, its sickening thud assaults your silence accustomed ears.
Senses are regaining as dust flies up each nostril, clinging to the tiny hairs and making you sneeze.
Wait………………..
Sneeze?
That simple insignificant action brakes a dam and everything flows out, a tsunami of feelings and memories washes away the darkness of your inner mind as you realise what just happened.
You just woke up.
Everything goes at a supersonic speed, as your disused muscles scream in agony the wood shatters and oxygen rushes through your mouth.
Breathing deeply you slow the speed and destroy the rest of your torture chamber. Pulverised wood coats your knee as your legs collapse, your eyes are still shut but weakening as light streams in and coats the protective shield that covers the sensitive pair.
Turning away you rip them open, the image flounders, colour swims. Shaking your head like a mongrel and reopening your eyes, you are greeted with a strange sight. Crawling forward, the room stops spinning as you stare into the cracked, aged and dirty face of a once ornate mirror.
Scarlet dominates as you stare into the eyes of your formidable, distorted reflection.
You reach out and touch the face you see, the face of Vincent Valentine.