*~{3}~*
Chapter 3:
A Waking Nightmare
{*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^} *-Izzy-*-Izzy-*-Izzy-*-Izzy-*-Izzy-* {*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^} Five Years Earlier"Wha-!"
Isabelle gasped, startling awake, eyes popping open before promptly slamming closed, hissing in pain. Her hand shoots up, covering her eyes as she's hit by a sharp, throbbing pain in her head, swallowing back a wave of nausea at an annoyingly familiar spinney, swoopy feeling.
Hello Concussion my old friend...Been a while.
Not nearly as long as she'd have liked but longer than she's had in a bit. Wonder how the hell she got this one.
It's a mystery right now but that's just par for the course. It'll come back- always does. She just has to relax, try not to force it and work through one step at a time. If anything she has that down...Hell by now she has an actual freaking routine.
Gotta admit not a skill she thought she'd acquire but it does come in handy.
By this point she can practically do it in her sleep. Well...sleep...concussion addled mind... pretty much same thing. Just breathe and work through the list. She's already started.
Step one's pretty well done- check for any immediate danger. It's a bit tricky when you're head's spinning and you can't open your eyes without risking blinding pain and gagging however by now she's got that down too. She can't rely on sight so she just has to lean more in to her other senses. She relaxes, inhaling, holding her breath, listening for any clues.
Hmm...Nothing...
No breathing, no movement in her immediate vicinity...so she's alone. Okay not great but not the worst possible outcome either. Alone means she doesn't have any help close by but it also means no possible attacker about to strike...meaning no trying to fight while concussed...
Definitely a benefit.
Kay...no immediate threats...what else?
Hmm...She's inside, lying on the floor. The floor is hard and cold...so cold it nearly burns. She shifts a bit; trying to adjust without moving enough to exacerbate her spinning head but it's really no use. There's nothing on the floor, it's totally bare. The air's kind of stale, she doesn't feel any circulation...no fresh air...meaning likely no windows...
Oookay...Stale, cold, windowless rooms are rarely a good sign.
It's pretty quiet...actually...not quiet; muffled...and kind of echo-y. If she really strains she can pick up faint sounds from outside the room but it's totally indecipherable. A bit of movement, maybe the murmur of voices...but they sound so very far away.
The only other thing she hears besides her pulse thrumming in her ears and her own breathing is a dull, sporadic dripping. First instinct would be a sink but that doesn't seem right. The tone isn't right...it's different. Kinda reminds her of when she was a kid, when they'd dare each other to sneak into the steam tunnels below the institute. The sounds of the condensation and dripping pipes plunking into the standing puddles littering the ground.
Umm...yeah...crap.
Okay...so...lying on a cold, hard, completely bare floor, concussed, in a freezing cold, windowless room with a leaky pipe...
Uh...yyyeah...
She's going with crap again.
She has to be captured...maybe a fight went bad and she was taken. Kay...captured is not good...Also not exactly a totally alien experience for her.
She shifts slowly, cautiously testing her movement.
Huh...kay...one good thing. She isn't restrained in any way. Definite plus.
So she's likely been captured by someone but she's alone and has her full range of movement...She's made it out of worse... At least she thinks she has. It's a bit harder to concentrate as she has to keep shifting faintly in an attempt to chase away the cold seeping through her clothes from the floor.
Geez...Why is it so cold? No way it should be this cold- it's freaking May!
Man it feels like the dead of winter...not just like chilly 'they turned the air up too high' but like literally 'I can see my breath' cold. Maybe whatever caught her is some kind of ice fae or frost demon...something more specially adapted to the cold.
That could make sense...
Doesn't make it any more pleasant.
Damnit she wishes she went more for the dark broody, gothy gloves and layers aesthetic. Be a hell of a lot more useful right now than her fashionably distressed jeans, slinky red top and trusty leather jacket. At least she has the jacket but it's hardly blizzard wear. Which is what it feels like she needs right about now.
Geez...She swears it's like a walk in fre-
Her heart stops, everything in her coming to a screeching halt.
O-oh...oh no...
T-that...no...
Please not that...
Gasping she shifts, taking a deep, steadying breath, bracing for the pain and nausea she knows is gonna hit but powering though it, needing to know exactly what she's in here, forcing her eyes open hoping against hope she's not gonna see what she thinks she's gonna see.
She startles, hissing at the assault of the thankfully dim light on her overly sensitive eyes, swallowing against the nausea welling up, bracing against the surging pain, feeling both recede behind a near crushing wave of terror the likes of which she's never felt at the sight before her.
Grey. Burnished. Stainless steel. Above her, beneath her...surrounding her. It's a box. a metal box...a freezing cold, windowless, airless metal box.
Seven feet square room. She doesn't see where the dripping sound is coming from- it's not in the room...nothing is in the room...the box. The only features to the room are a black speaker inset into the wall next to a large, bank vault looking door. She can make out what looks like a glass inset. It's about a foot and a half wide and comes about halfway down the door...it seems like some kind of viewing window. There's a covering over the opposite side now. She can see the glint of ice crystals forming around the edges.
T-there's no ventilation...there's no air duct...no windows...nothing.
There's nothing.
It's just a freezing cold, metal box.
A metal box she's gonna die in. Likely while whoever put her here watches from outside.
O-oh...
Oh god...
O-oh...no...no...please no...
Nonononono...
Oh...god...
T-this...n...oh god...
Her breath catches as a deep, bone rattling shiver slips through her. It's the kind of cold that goes deeper than your skin, the kind that seeps in, that you feel clear down to your bones, that makes your skin hurt and your teeth chatter so hard you'd worry it's gonna break your jaw.
She doesn't know if it's from the actual temperature or from the deep, overwhelming, all-consuming wave of terror she feels bubbling up, creeping into her spinning, throbbing mind.
The throbbing and nausea spikes, a terrified, pained half sobbing whimper slipping out. She feels her muscles lock, tighten to the point of near spasming, heart beginning to speed up, pulse surging and roaring in her ears, breath coming in fast, erratic gulps.
Oh god...S-she can't...n-not like this...that...that's not...oh no...t-that's j...oh...god please...please d-
No.
S-stop...Stop that.
Stop.
Stop being a panicky little bitch. You panic you're sealing your fate. Panic won't help a damn thing. Panic equals death. Panicking is just a waste of oxygen.
And you do not have oxygen to waste.
You panic you're just helping whoever put you here...making it easier for them...Likely giving them exactly what they want.
To hell with that. You will not be complacent in your own death.
You won't.
Stop spinning. Stop spiraling. Get your head on straight. Get it together. Stop helping whoever put you here.
You're not some scared little child. Some newbie fresh out of training still wet behind the ears. You are no easy target. You are not a freaking victim.
You are Isabelle Lightwood.
You have faced demons, magics, shifters, full on monsters, most every last horror imaginable and you have come out on top every single time. You've protected countless innocents. You have led fights against throngs of nightmares and sent them running with their tails between their legs.
You have handled more solo missions in your first five years than most do in their entire lifetime in the field. You've faced things that by all rights you never should have come back from. That no one thought you'd come back from.
You have taken on literal living nightmares with nothing but a smirk and a freaking strappy gold stiletto.
And you won.
You make battle hardened generals twitchy.
You are a fighter. A warrior. The best the institute has to offer.
You are Isabelle Freaking Lightwood.
You get knocked down or backed into a corner you don't just panic and cry like some simpering, mewling little weakling. You don't curl up in a whimpering ball and wait for death. You come out swinging.
You don't get 'Scared'...
You get pissed.
Who the HELL thinks they can get rid of Isabelle Freaking Lightwood by just tossing her in a god damned icebox? Get rid of one of the most highly regarded, respected and feared Angelus to ever grace the institute without so much as breaking a nail.
Oh hell no.
No way is she going down that easily.
If someone's gonna take her out they are damn sure gonna have to work for it. If someone comes for her she's doing her damnedest to take them with her.
Ooh...okay...that helped. Heart and pulse are still racing, but it's now the familiar cadence of anger. That's good...anger she can work with. Anger motivates. She works best angry.
So let's get to work.
Same process as the Concussion system; Stay calm, list what needs to be dealt with, work it one step at a time, don't force anything, don't try to jump ahead. Take it one step at a time, work with what you got and repeat.
Alright...list...
She's freezing cold, possibly in shock, most definitely concussed, trapped in a freezing cold, metal box with a freaking viewing window and speaker. She does not know how she got here or who put her here. She doesn't know how long she's been here or have any idea where 'here' is. She doesn't know what events lead her to here...
Aaand that's about all she knows.
Well...
That list reallysucks.
Basically she knows nothing and by all accounts she's near certainly screwed.
Oookay...list was not exactly helpful but it's step one. It's a start. Hey, if anything there's really nowhere to go but up here.
Really how can it possibly get worse?
Kay, biggest issue is the box but there's not a hell of a lot she can do about that right now. But it is the biggest, most looming issue. It doesn't matter what else is in play- she runs out of oxygen it's game over.
Hmm...so if the box is seven by seven by seven that's around two hundred and fifty CFM...that means she has around sixteen hours of oxygen.
Okay not great but she's pretty sure she's worked her way out of worse with less.
Sixteen hours...she can work with sixteen hours.
Alright- got her list and her timetable. Sixteen hours max...She doesn't know how long she's been here but if there's ice crystals forming on the door and the speaker then it's probably around the freezing point. She's in jeans, a tank top and her leather jacket. Nothing she's wearing is overly shielding, she can feel the cold creeping through and she has to keep shifting so where her body touches the floor doesn't get too numb. If that's the case she couldn't have been in here too terribly long before she came too. Most she could have been out here is an hour- hour and a half tops...
If she was in freezing temperatures for longer than that she wouldn't just feel cold, she'd be verging on hypothermic. Much like the Concussion she's actually felt that enough to be able to identify it. She's cold but going from her experience she has at least a good six hours before that'd start to set in...
So a bonus clock...peachy.
Whatever, she knows, she has a rough estimate of what she has to work with. Best she can hope for here. On the 'positive' side her panic over the whole locked in a freezer thing seemed to have helped her push through the effects of the concussion...so that's something...
Well...something-ish.
There's still a pretty persistent, dull ache in her head but it's far more manageable then when she first came to. Also she doesn't have the nauseous feeling anymore so that's another for the win column.
So her 'win' column basically consists of 'hey, you're not dead yet' and 'you can open your eyes without throwing up'...It's pretty slim but she'll take whatever positives she can at this point.
She takes another deep breath, hesitantly pushing herself to her feet, hissing in pain from her stiff muscles being forced into movement. She feels kind of shaky on her feet, light headed and woozy.
Oookay...maybe that wasn't such a good idea with the whole concussion thing...
Okay...work through it...breathe...
Just breathe...you got this...
J-just get your bearings...
You're fine...
You've faced worse.
She takes a deep breath, stumbling over to the wall, bracing against it. She rests her arms against it, taking deep, measured breaths, facing the wall, hoping focusing on the monotone, gunmetal grey will stop the spinning.
She breathes through it, gaze slipping over the wall, taking in the blank, flat tone, the monotony when her eye catches on something about a foot from her arm.
T-there...there's scratches in the wall. Why are there scratches in the wall?
Letting her eyes shift around she spots more. They're faint...but they're there. They're there embedded in solid stainless steel.
What creature could leave marks in solid steel?
W-were other's locked in this box... Animals... supernaturals? Had supernaturals been locked up in here before? B-but...no...that...that doesn't make sense.
Who would be capturing both supernaturals ANDAngelus?
T-that makes no sense...
What w-
Her thoughts are cut off by a sudden, spinning feeling, a sharp, near overpowering wave of heat washing over her. Instantly she goes from freezing cold to massively overheated. She'd nearly think it was the beginning stages of hypothermia but-again- she's experienced that enough times to know the feeling.
You do start to feel warm but it's not an instant thing, and you feel hot...you don't feel like you're on fire. Plus you feel much colder and numb beforehand...she's easily three or four steps from that.
So what the hell is this?
She doesn't know but she does NOT like i-ah...oh...
Oh...
She gasps at a sharp, piercing pain shooting through her...n-no...not just through her, over her...and through her...everywhere. She feels like pins and needles rolling over her entire body, nerve endings suddenly raw, worn and frayed, feeling like her skins being burned, scorched from both inside and out.
Oh god...there goes the nausea...o-only it's different...it's not the motion sickness, head spinney, rolling stomach feel like usual.
This is worse...SO much worse...She swears it feels like her insides are turning, twisting, and squishing.
Oh god...
She gasps, resting her forehead against the cool metal, the cold, smooth texture near soothing against her suddenly feverish skin. She whimpered, bracing against the wall, pushing her jacket off, pressing more against the chilled metal, trying in vain to somehow quell the burning heat engulfing her.
She swallowed, taking a few gulp-y, gasping, shallow breaths, trying to push through the pain...her skin feeling near blistering hot, nerves screaming like they're on fire, like a liquid flame slipping through her veins- it's unlike anything she's ever fel-
W-wait...no...That's not true...
She has felt it before...
But w-
F-fight...
There was a fight...
She remembers a fight...a recent fight...but it's all a jumbled mess, flashes of painfully bright shards of memories cut through with darkness as if she's glimpsing them through a strobe light.
There's darkness...a park? N-no...not a park, bigger...wilder...a forest. They were in a forest...it was dark then bursts of light and deafening sounds...the darkness cut through like the fourth of July.
There was running, shouting, the familiar rushes of adrenalin, fear and excitement that always accompany a battle and a sharp bursts of pain and a terror unlike anything she's ever felt...
And then the liquid fire...the scorching nerves...and more pain...a sharp, vicious pain that rips through her, makes her cry out in agony...in terror...
The sounds echoed by a roar...
Not a roar of pain...one of hate and anger...An ear splitting half roar half scream that echoes in her head...that she still hears ringing in her ears.
The roar of the leopard...
The roar that echoed in her head, inches from her ear...that she'll never forget, never not hear echoing throughout her brain. The popping sound of those vicious, deadly claws ripping into her flesh. Those wicked, razor sharp fangs glinting in the moonlight, plunging down like a dagger, slicing into her skin.
She gasps, eyes popping open in horror, head whipping around, gaze falling on her arm, freezing.
W-wha...
T-there are what look like claw marks there, large slashes that wrap around, trailing from her shoulder down and over her bicep...b-but...
But they're not new marks...they're not fresh, they look completely healed. More than healed...
They look old.
Weeksold.
B-but...but that's impossible. No way she's been here long enough for them to heal...there's no way.
There's no way she's lost weeks of memories...There's no way she survived for weeks...
There's no way she's survived a day.
T-there just isn't.
A were bite is deadly...it is ALWAYS deadly. And quick...people don't make it more than an hour or two. If they're lucky enough to get it in time they're rushed to the institutes Trauma ward to be put under before the worst of the pain hits. It's not a cure...just a way to dull the pain and keep their last few moments from descending into an insanity inducing, agonizing hell.
They succumb within a matter of hours. They never even get a chance to say goodbye. It's one of the worst possible ways to die...the greatest fear of every Angelus. Everyone knows that. It is hammered into them -Drummed into them- from the first day of academy all the way through the last.
A were bite is a death sentence. It is always a death sentence. It's fast, and excruciating...and final.
If you are bit you are good as dead.
There is no cure...no fix...
No hope...
And she was bitten...
Oh god...oh god...s-she...
She was bitten...
She's not dying from Oxygen depletion or hypothermia or whatever jackass Saw impersonator that locked her in here has planned. She's not going out in a blaze of glory fighting to her last breath like she always thought she would.
She's never gonna find out who put her in here...never get her chance to go after them...
What would be the point?
Doesn't really matter who locked her in here...they missed their chance...late to the party...all they managed to do was lock up a corpse. What's the point of trying to escape? She's already dead...now she's just catching up with the inevitable.
She knows it's happening...she can feel it...had been feeling it... the venom coursing through her veins. That scorching, liquid fire shooting through her...
She knows what it is now...
It's her body succumbing to the toxin.
The incurabletoxin.
She's done...She just is. There's no last minute rescue...no eleventh hour twist...no sudden turn...no escape. There's no more tricks, moves, or angles to work. There's no fighting an enemy...
There's no enemy to fight.
She is dying.
This is her end.
Damn...
She was really hoping for something a bit less depressing.
She took another shaky breath, a faint sob slipping out, turning around, sliding down the wall, crumpling down onto the floor in a defeated, pitiful heap.
God...
She's gone...she's done...e-everything...it's all gone. All her work, all her plans, her skills, effort, all her promise. Everything she's given...everything she's put in...Everything she nearly killed herself trying to accomplish...and it's gone. It's all ending here. Right here. In a cold metal box, alone, locked away from the world.
God...
S-she never going to see her family again...her parents...Jace...Max...Alec...
Oh god...Alec...
What's Alec gonna do without her? He's never been without her. Been by her side from the day they were born. They've never been apart for more than a week. How is he ever going to survive without her?
H-he will...won't he? Survive? I-I mean they're twins...there's a bond there that...she's heard of people losing their twin and n-
N-no.
No...T-that's not going to happen...Alec will be okay...he'll make it...
He will. He has to.
He has to for Jace and Max. Has to lead them...keep them safe...help them grow up.
They're going to need him more than ever now that s-
Oh god...
She sniffled, feeling the tears slipping down her cheeks totally unchecked. Usually she'd try to fight it off, put on a brave face, not stoop to showing such weakness...but...hell...
Who cares now?
There's no one to keep a brave face for...just her.
A corpse waiting for the inevitable.
She sat on the floor, crying, balling like never before. Thinking about everything she's going to miss out on...wishing she got more time with the boys...that she could have another chance...
Hoping they'll be safe...be happy...
That they'll have good lives.
They should...
They deserve it...
They deserve everything...
She took a deep, gasping breath, head thunking back against the wall, head shaking faintly at the unfairness of it all.
God this is gonna rip them apart.
Do they know already? Are they setting somewhere right now, mourning her...Or are they still in the dark...still happy...still thinking everything's fine.
That everyone's okay.
That their world isn't going to be changed forever.
God...this will devastate them. It's gonna cause them so much pain- SHE is going to cause them so much pain. She's going to devastate them, shake everything they ever believed, turn their worlds upside down...rip it apart...destroy any amount of peace, sanctuary or stability they ever thought they had in this crazy, terrifying, violent world of theirs.
She is going to be the source of the worst pains of their young lives. She is gonna cause it...and there's not one damn thing she can do to stop it.
T-that...god...that feels worse than the venom...worse than the twist in her gut or the stabbing fire and raw, exposed nerves feeling she feels on her skin clear down to her bones. Worse than any physical pain ever could be.
She's gonna be the cause of some of the worst pain her brothers likely ever experience. Gonna take away everything they ever thought they could count on... god. She wished there was some way she could ease the pain. A way to help them through this.
She's never really been a religious person- ironic being a literal decedent of angels- but she's never really put much thought into what's beyond this life. She always had too much to deal with in the here and now to worry about what comes next.
She always figured spinning about what comes next was like working yourself into a frenzy trying to figure out the end of a book. You're gonna find out eventually and if you spend all your time theorizing about the ending you're likely to miss out on all the interesting, absorbing, exciting parts in the middle.
That mindsets always served her well...Though right about now she's kinda wishing she wasted at least a bit of time on it.
She's not afraid of what's coming. Whatever it is she knows she's lived a good life...an honorable life. She dedicated everything to fighting the good fight...protecting innocents from monsters. She's been a leader and a fighter and a protector every step of the way.
W-who knows...
Maybe she still will be...
Perhaps the fairytales are true. Maybe being finished with your life doesn't mean you're automatically done with the lives of those you love. If she can't be by her brother's sides in life maybe she will be in another way. Like their guardian angel.
God knows those three needed one.
Maybe she will be...
It's the best she can hope for...Better than thinking it's just all gonna end. Maybe she will get to look after them...keep them safe. Get to see Max and Jace grow up...Maybe she'll still on some level get to be there for them...
God she hopes so...
She sighed, sniffing, blinking away the tears...
Ugh...she hated crying...
She doesn't have anyone to put on a brave face for except herself but she's sure as hell not going out of this world curled up on the floor in a ball with a tear stained face.
Whatever else she is she's better than that.
She sniffed again, beginning to move to stand, taking a deep breath, reaching up, scrubbing at her face, whi-
Ow!
She startles at a sharp scratch along her hairline.
What the hell?
That...what...she can feel a trickle of blood already starting at her temple.
What in th-did she have a hang nail or s-
She pulled her hands away from her face, holding them up to examine before freezing.
W-wha...t...wh...
H-her...her nails...her nails are black...glimmering black. They're no longer the fashionable short, almond shape she usually favors...they're long... Far longer than she usually has them. And sharp. Very sharp, tapering to a vicious dagger point...
A claw like point.
She can see a deep, coppery smudge on one of them...blood...
Her blood...
What the hell?
She startled, blinking, thinking it's a trick of the light, or of her poison addled, concussed mind but...no...It's not changing.
She inhales sharply, turning her hands, flexing. The nails seem to elongate even more, she swears she literally feels them extending...like stretching a muscle.
W-what th-what the hell?
Wha-i-is...is this part of the venom? Does it mess with your mind...your perception? Does i-
That odd pins and needle feeling slipped over her again, it's stronger this time...much stronger. She gasps as her eyes catch a faint rippling glimmer of something...a pattern flickering over her skin, just barely perceptible...
A worryingly familiar pattern.
W-what...
Wh...Was that...w...
Is she losing it? Does the venom affect your mind as well as your body? She hasn't heard of that but...well...she's never actually heard a full account of someone dying from the venom.
She knew it killed you...that it was a hundred percent fatal and excruciatingly painful and that you were gone in an instant. That you never even had a chance to say goodbye to anyone.
She knew that...but...what about the lead up to the death? Did you hallucinate during your final moments...did it cloud your mind...destroy your mind...
D-did it?
What that what was hap-
She felt the ripple again, this one deeper. She squeezes her eyes shut, not wanting to see again, a slight whimper slipping out...
It's not real...it's not real...it's not real...
It's a mantra on a continuous loop in her head...
What she's seeing is not real...she's hallucinating...it's the poison...the venom...it's not real...
It's not real...
It's n-
She sobs, startling as the sound level suddenly cranks up to thirteen. It's like her ears popped, everything's suddenly crystal clear and blaringly loud. She can hear everything...everything.
The drip sounds like it echoes, reverberates...like it's an inch from her ear. She hears water surging through pipes and the buzzing of electricity in the walls beyond and the rattle of machinery and some kind of scratching rodent like noises and a mind rattling cacophony of other sounds that shouldn't even begin to register but sound like they're pounding into her head. From outside she can hear movement and shuffling feet and squeaking shoes and keys rattling and beeps, boops and swishes of different machinery...
The quiet, barely discernable murmuring outside now sounds like they're right there- like they're blaring though a speaker set on full blast. She can hear talking, shouting, laughing, crying, sobbing, screaming, breathing... S-she can hear heartbeats.
H-how...
How can she hear heartbeats?
How can she hear heartbeats through solid steel?
T-that's not possible...it's not...i-
She feels the rippling slinking over her again, this one deeper than before, the scorching fire coursing through her veins. It's sharp and excruciating...unbearable. Worse than any pain she's ever imagined. She crumples to the floor, rolling into a ball in a vain attempt to protect herself but it's no use. It doesn't help.
Nothing helps...
She feels the ripple going deeper, like a million little needle pricks, slipping over her skin...feels her stomach roll again, the shifting, squishing, lurching, feels her muscles shift, stretch and contract. She hears popping and snapping, an odd crunching sound like metal on metal...
Or bone on bone...
It's loud, defining, ringing through her ears, barrowing into her skull.
She panted, the sound coming out off, with a soft rumble like thunder, head lurching to the side at a sharp, unnatural angle. She hears her neck crack so loud and distinct she's sure something's broken, doesn't feel it but knows it's coming, unable to keep in a pained, terrified scream...but the scream shifts as well.
It goes lower, taking on a deeper, louder, wilder sound. The sound that echoed in her brain.
Oh god...t-this is it...
This is the end...
She can feel it...feel the fire coursing, the rippley feeling surging over her...feels like her heads going to explode. She squeezes her eyes shut tight, folds in on herself and waits for the inevitable...
O-only...
It never comes.
She feels the fire begin to dissipate, to ease. The needle like feeling in her skin soothes. Her insides stop rolling...the volume even out. They're still there but not as deafening. Eventually her muscles stop contracting, begin to ease...she feels her breathing even out, temperature regulating.
She swallows, cautiously shifting, bracing for the pain to return with the movement but it doesn't.
W-wha-
Taking a deep breath she shifts, cautiously rolling over, pushing herself up into a sitting position. She groans faintly, feeling her muscles protesting the movement...still it's nothing like it was. Kinda feels like after a really intense fight- when she's worked muscles she didn't even know she had. It's a bit sore but nothing like it was just a matter of minutes ago.
She groaned, stretching her back, rolling her neck, trying to work out the stiffness. She rolls her head slowly from side to side, feeling the muscles flex and pull, reaching up, pushing her hair back, before slowly blinking her eyes open in confusion...
She freezes, heart jumping. Everything is lit up like noon, every detail in the room standing out like it's lit in neon. She can see everything...every detail. It's as if she has a zoom lens on. She can see the scratches in the walls, the crisscross pattern on the speaker, the bolts in the door, the glas-
She startles, catching sight of a creature staring back at her through the glass...glimmering golden yellow eyes flickering in the dark, sharp, unsettlingly familiar features, a sprinkling of rosette like spots.
Only...looking...t-the cover's still down on the other side of the door. It's just the glass...the reflection in the glass...clear as day...clear as a mirror...
A reflection...
HERreflection...
B-but...
But not her...
She doesn't see herself staring back...
She sees a creature...
A monster...
A were...
It's not a reflection...It's a hallucination...
Just another hallucination...
T-that's what it is...
That's all it is...
All it can be...
It can't be her...
It can't.
She blinks...
The Creature blinks...
She tilts her head, hand coming up, pushing her hair back away from her face, gasping...
The creature tilts it's head, hand coming up, pushing it's dark golden brown tinged hair back, strands slipping through wickedly clawed fingers, blazingly golden eyes catching, reflecting, glowing like flames, mouth opening in a gasp, revealing a glimpse of razor sharp fangs.
Oh god...please no...
J-just let this be her mind breaking as she dies...
Oh please...please just be a delusion...
A side effect of the toxin...
A hallucination...
O-oh god...
Please...
No...
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Umm...w-well...there it is.
Hey I warned you all this wasn't gonna be all puppies and rainbows okay?
I know it kinda spun and bounced around a fair bit but...hey the girl thinks she's facing her death...a few different deaths...stands to reason it'd ricochet.
I actually really like how this one went. It took me a fair bit longer to write then most- but I kind of figured it would- part of the reason I wanted to save it for the last to update.
It's not really a headspace I'm used to getting into but it is one that I like to explore- if anything else to flex my creative muscles and see how far I can push myself.
So what'd you guys think?
And I seem to say this every update but Sorry it's been so long between updates- thank you all for being so patient. I really have been trying to update more regularly but things just keep getting in my way. I keep saying I'm gonna try to update more frequently but I think I need to stop saying that. I do and it seems to either summon random obstacles into my way (Or send my mind spinning down the rabbit hole on useful but time consuming things).
You all know I'll write as much as I can whenever I can. Really hoping I'll have another update on Monday or Tuesday (Those are my days off next week).
I'd like to say before that but the weekends really hard for me to get time and with the holiday it's even harder than usual. In any case I will as soon as I possibly can...hope this will hold you over till then.
So with this update I've made it through the entire rotation of updates so it's time to restart back at the beginning...Here's the list:
A Start Of Something New (Verse 7)
The Guy/Demon In The Mirror (Verse 4)
Nosey Neighbors (Verse 9)
Love Bug (Verse 2)
Picture Perfect (Verse 8)
You Can't Go Home Again (Verse 1)
A Study In Chaos (Verse 6)
Death Was Just The Beginning (Verse 3)
Next up is V7 A Stat of Something New...
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