"If thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee."
She crashed through the trees at the speed that should have near killed her, her purse gripped within her claw like fingers as though it were her last lifeline. Hitting the ground with a rough thud, her body continued to roll head over heads until she smacked into the thick, striped trunk of a tree. Her vision swam, her head spinning at the harsh blow to the back of her skull.
Kalypso gripped the arm of the glasses that was tangled in her thick black curls and ripped it free, pulling some hair along with it. Wonderful, her glasses were missing the other arm. With a huff, she gently shuffled forwards with her backside and straightened her back, careful not to jolt her head any more than she needed to. She needed to think straight, but the pain of her injury was making her think of little else. What could be seen of her coffee coloured skin was dirty and scratched, rubbed red and raw from the trunks of trees and ground.
She'd been standing by her desk at work, enjoying a cup of tea with two sugars (just how she liked it, two slightly heaped teaspoons of course) when the wall to the right of her swirled into a dark portal of nothing. It twirled around slowly, and as she gazed into the inky darkness, a sudden pull of gravity knocked her off of her feet and sprawled onto the floor. The pull increased in strength until it dragged her towards the darkness, her spilt tea staining the white of her shirt as the young woman clawed at the slick tiles in desperation. Her pointed black nails couldn't grip on the floor at all, and despite using her full strength to stay grounded, she was dragged painfully across the ground into the vortex swearing her head off.
Then she'd ended up in the sky, literally thrown across an idyllic landscape with terrifying velocity. Kalypso never screamed; she wasn't that kind of woman… Until just now. And it was a perfectly reasonable excuse to scream and swear at the top of her lungs. Of course, this was stopped rather abruptly by the branches and trunks of oddly shaped trees knocking the wind out of her.
The brunette slowly unwrapped her fingers from the purse she'd managed to grab in her fall of sorts and inched them towards the back of her skull. Judging from the warm stickiness coating her fingers when they entered her hair, she was bleeding and rather badly. Hastily wiping her hand in the grass beside her, Kalypso pulled the hair scrunchie from her left wrist and tied her hair into a loose bun on top of her head.
"What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck…" She mumbled under her breath, blinking rapidly to clear the blurriness from her vision.
As her vision cleared, Kalypso suddenly took in the vivid colours of her surroundings. Rolling green hills stretching as far as the eye could see, littered with the most immense forest of fluffy-topped trees greeted her. The swirled tuffs of fur at the tops of the trees were the most peculiar colours, various shades of red, pink, purple, orange and yellow… And what on earth was sat in the tree above her? A… Goose? A duck? It was covered in the most brilliant orange plumage, that was for sure.
Furrowing her eyebrows, the suit-clad woman decided either someone had spiked her tea, or she'd fallen and knocked her head rather hard. A voice at the back of her head said this likely wasn't the case, judging by the proof she'd be dragged backwards into some spinning interdimensional hole she could see. Her nails were broken and chipped, her mane of curly hair was a wreck, her shirt stained with the spilt tea and the top two buttons were missing. Her tights were covered in holes and damaged beyond belief—No chance in saving those. And where the fuck was she, none of this landscape looked normal. In all of her 23 years of life she'd never heard of fluffy, sunset coloured trees… What about photosynthesises? How did that work?
Kalypso shook her head but immediately regretted it due to the pain in her head, and slowly stood as best as she could. Legs shaking, she started to walk forwards whilst cleaning her broken glasses with the edge of her shirt. The first order of business was to find the rest of her stuff, ideally her phone and contact the director of her company Goldsmith & Co. to inform him of the situation. Knowing the director, Sir Harold Goldsmith (he'd been knighted by the Queen and wouldn't shut up about it), the second she made her voice wobble and called him 'Sir' he'd give her the day off with no questions. Men like that were easy to manipulate if you were pretty enough and were willing to nod and smile like a good little secretary.
As she walked and picked up various personal belongings (her ripped suit blazer, an earring, her left stiletto, a hair pin), she couldn't help but notice the most revolting smell. It was like a combination of burning plastic and petrol. Now she'd noticed it, it started to make her eyes water again, but she didn't wipe them for fear of smearing her mascara more than it already had been. Realising this, she wondered how she must've looked should anyone come across her.
With another muttered curse word, she picked up the pace, taking off her other shoe due to the pointlessness of wearing only one broken high heel. The hill started sloping downwards and the sun baring on her back started to make her sweat slightly, but in the distance, she could hear the oddest singing she'd ever heard in her life. Eager to head towards the sound of the people, the brunette worked herself into a mild jog.
In front of her a clearing appeared along with the sparkling of what appeared to be a stream. Entering the clearing, the sound of the singing was loud of clear. As she turned to look for the sound of the melody she could see no people but the stream enticed her. Falling to her knees on the banks of the stream, she stared at her reflection in the surface of the water.
Tired, bruised looking heterochrome eyes stared at Kalypso. One honey brown, one mahogany, those orbs mimicked her own as they gave her appearance a once over. Her makeup was smeared across the left side of her face and dried blood was caked onto the skin of her neck. The thick dark eyebrows that gave her a slightly fierce expression were still there though, and her lips were dry and bitten – An old habit she must've picked up again after she landed from her fall. She looked an absolute state.
Dipping her hands into the lukewarm water she started aggressively rubbing at the dried blood and makeup, trying to get some semblance of order back into her life. The back of her head throbbed painfully as the woman leant over the water, and in frustration she straight up dunked her entire head under water. Rubbing her fingers through the thick curls to free them from the confines of dried blood and grime, she breathed out heavily through her nose. Being reduced to this state was humiliating, but unavoidable. She had to remind herself of that. Kalypso was a fighter, after all, she'd clawed her way up the job hierarchy to get where she was. Her house, her car, her dog, her qualifications that was all her. Those were her accomplishments. Falling out of a bloody sky didn't take those things away from her.
The brunette came up for air suddenly, chest heaving from the lack of oxygen. The water had done a great job at bringing her back to the real world. Squeezing out the excess water from her somewhat less tangled locks, she secured it again with the wet scrunchie. She patted her face and hair dry with the shredded blazer before discarding it—
The melody she'd heard earlier was coming from a small huddle of fish.
The fish on the rock 4 feet away from her were singing.
She blinked once. Then twice.
"What the fuck—"
Somewhere above her, an orange goose honked.
It's been a little while since I was in the Lorax fandom, but I was hit by a sudden flash of inspiration.
I'm writing this more to state my own craving for more serious Lorax fanfiction, but if anyone else enjoys this, then do let me know.