Part 2, shorter, but it felt like a good place to stop.
Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. Try again later.
The strangest thing happened next. I awoke. My eyes wouldn't open, perhaps I didn't even have eyes, but I could smell. I smelled what seemed to be burnt flesh, and him. I smelled that man and his specific perfume. He had come too late, and I had died, but here I was alive enough to smell. I think I screamed, but I could not hear it, for perhaps I had no ears. I had a mouth, and I had a nose, and that was all I could feel besides pain.
Someone picked me up, I could tell by the air rushing past my mouth that they were running with me. There must have been two of them, by smell I could recognize them as Mother and Father. One of them stuffed something in my toothless mouth, and then closed it, forcing me to swallow. It was cold, and a chill ran through me. Several more of these mystery things followed before I noticed a change. I began to grow ears. I could hear my parents' heavy breathing and swift talking, but it sounded so far away. I also heard the strangest squealing and crying. Was that me? I fell unconscious again.
When I awoke the next time it felt like I had slept a lifetime. I might have, for I had no knowledge of time. I had eyes again, and teeth, and a tongue, but I felt so awful. Not weak, no, my body was functioning at top condition, but my mind made my new eyes focus and unfocus with giant spasms of pain. I heard my mother as she came. My hearing had become sharper than I had remembered it, but it also hurt to hear so sharply. I winced in pain as my mother shoved more of these mystery things down my throat. My new tongue tasted them; they tasted like cherries and metal. I opened my eyes and tried to focus. Whatever they were, they were red and there were lots of them. My mother forced me to down them all before she would let me loose.
She helped me to a sitting position, and I got a good look at her. She had changed so much in the time I was asleep. The woman who sat before me was nothing like my mother. My mother's hair had been brown and long, but now it was shorter, and blonde. Her eyes had changed color, and she had grown plumper. But I knew it was she, for her smell was unmistakable.
We didn't exchange words until the next day. She had made me go straight back to sleep, and I awoke to find her sitting at the foot of the bed. My surroundings were not my childhood room, but I seemed to be in a similar style manor. The blanket on the bed where I lay had splatters of blood and what appeared to be pieces of the red things she had fed me. My very body felt foreign to me, and my mind nagged at me to find a mirror as soon as possible. She grabbed me by my shoulder, and told me a fantastical story. Had her eyes not been so serious, I wouldn't have believed her.
She said I had died, and she mourned me for days before my father had come home. He did not mourn me, but lifted my limp body and took me down to his lab. There, she described a ceremony; she said it was sacred and taboo. He inscribed a great circle with many symbols, and lay my body in the middle. The two of them then touched the edges of the circle with their fingers, and my body was brought to life. But, it couldn't have been my body, she said, and she realized the reason that ceremony was forbidden to all. She said they carried my remains, that shrieked and cried like an infant, and my father instructed her to feed me the red stones. She told of my transformation from a blob-like mass, with bones and a gaping mouth, to a child just like myself.
I was terrified. I fled from the room where I had spent many years, and ran down the hall of this mystery mansion. On my way, I was distracted by the figure of a young boy, running with me. I realized that it was a mirror that spread down the long hallway. I pressed my hand to it. I was alive, truly. My face hadn't changed like my mothers, and it was just like before I ate that goo. But as I walked closer, taking a careful look at my reflection, I was horrified again. My reflection gazed back at me with purple eyes, not gold, and the pupils were slits like a cat or a lizard. I might have screamed again.
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