She'd never thought that she'd die with a stupid movie quote stuck in her head.
Death was supposed to be beautiful, tragic, dramatically lit with a slow symphony of melancholy melody as the score. That was the death that she'd been built up to in the decades on earth she'd spent in front of a technicolor screen, but that wasn't what she found for herself now. This feature was graceless, clumsy; Amateur. It lacked the depth of film grade color and contrast, and instead was pathetically lit from below by a flickering marquee. There were no violins slowly building in the background, swelling over the sound of the rushing wind to a crescendo as it all cut to black, but the deafening roar that swallowed her, cut through by a wailing cry of sirens as the unlucky were forced to watch her fail for one, final time- But it all blurred into static as the night sky fled from her.
Then there was silence, and then there wasn't.
Her senses returned to her slowly, the red veil over her vision parting to reveal the cold glow of neon on grimy concrete and the ringing in her ears fading to allow the impossible sounds of life to come through. It took nearly all of her energy to raise herself from where she'd collapsed, her elbows grinding themselves bloody against the ground as the rest of her body screamed in protest; Everything hurt, her bones cracking back into place with a pop that sucked the breath from her aching lungs and her muscles sore in unspeakable ways. Through the fog that filled her mind came the sound of horns blaring, wheels squealing, people yelling over the soft chatter of city life, drawing her to the rooftop barrier of the concrete and over it's edge.
The lights of the city below blurred and doubled as she cleaned her glasses with the tatters of her clothes, but a cleaner lens provided no clarity to the situation she'd found herself in. Had she imagined it, disassociated and never fell at all? Was the rushing wind and deafening crack of hitting the ground all in her head, blurring the lines between reality and wishful thinking in a sick fantasy?
Surely not; The city below her was nothing like the harsh, filthy midwestern city streets that had sealed her fate-
It was much worse.
Below the illusionary safety of her rooftop was bustling, bloody chaos; A collage of sky scrapers, apartment buildings and bars blocked her from whatever lay beyond the bustling nightlife ten stories down. The crowded city streets funneled into the building's lower stories in a frenzy, echoed arguments of the people below cutting through the constant murmur of congregation. Her stomach swooped as she dared to peek further over the edge, the glaring pink neon coating the scene below in a sickly rose as a tiny speck pulled out from beneath the buildings awning- Vertigo overtook her as she scrambled back before she had the chance to swoon and her eyes turned to the sky in search of solace; The sky stared back, brilliant white watching over her thought the points of a pentagram.
"What the fuck?"
Her voice felt foreign to her ears, hoarse as it scratched and strained against the rawness of her throat- Had she screamed from the fall? How embarrassing, she thought as she turned to search for a way off the rooftop with the hope that the world below would provide some answers to her many questions. She found her escape in a creaking set of stairs, their rusted steps further damning her funeral attire as the metal caught the weave of her tights as she made her way down to the street below. Muscles screamed from misuse as she leapt the last few feet into the alley way with a "thump!" of boots, wailing miserably as she pushed herself up from the alley floor and took timid steps towards the city street. Even though her heart pounded in her chest, her curiosity buried down the instincts that called for a swift retreat to the lonely rooftop with it's desire for answers- All it took was the banging of a backdoor against brick behind her to send her scampering out onto the open sidewalk, and directly into someone's side.
"'Ey! Watch it toots, I'm walkin' 'ere!"
"I'm sorry! I'm so sor-" Her apologies stopped short as she caught sight of who- Or what, she'd run into.
"Alright, calm down, it's no fluff off my fur, just look where ya' going'."
She couldn't help but gawk at the person in front of her, for they were not a person at all; They stood feet above them, looking down at her with a sour expression that narrowed the glowing of their eyes and planted far too many hands on slim hips. Fear would probably be the correct reaction in this situation, but it was all so strange already she didn't think she could be anything but confused. She'd already taken the literal leap, what else was there to lose? Besides, who was to say any of this was real, and not just some fucked-up vision brought on by hysteria to conceal the tragedy of her final moments from her already brittle psyche.
Her balance faltered and she stumbled back, unsure of where to look as whatever it was leaned forward, tilted its head, and gave her a smile that glinted gold against the soft white of it's fur.
"If ya' keep staring I'm gonna start chargin' ya'," It said. "And it's double for the gals."
"Wha-"
An ear splitting whistle made them both jump, the creature's eyes widening as it cursed it's way past her and into the alleyway door. It didn't take much more commotion to usher her away, looking over her shoulder at every chance until she was far enough away from the crowd to catch her breath.
Wandering past a large window filled with flickering televisions, she paused to take in the state of herself; It wasn't as bad as it could have been, she supposed. Her clothing was only mildly marred, tights ripping in all the wrong places to reveal pale flesh beneath and the front of her dress damp, clinging uncomfortably against her ribcage with every breath. She didn't dare touch the wet spot, too afraid that it might have been her own blood that came back on her fingertips- The state of her hands was concerning enough already. Her palms were not the pale peach they were the last she looked, but instead a soft pink padding that faded into an odd off-white kind of color, the dark tips of claws catching on the lace of her skirt as she wrung it. When her hands had not been wiped clean of their changes, the shifting reflection caught her attention, its shape partially obscured by the technicolor flash of pixels and televised teeth as she moved towards the window; The face that looked back at her was familiar, and a squish of tear stained cheeks between her palms proved that it was indeed hers, but different than before. Where there was once dull, critical darkness was now bright pink, her eyes blinking in shock from behind the dark rims of her glasses as they balanced on the soft pink heart of a button nose. Her hair, though sticking out in all directions and looking worse for wear, was still the same faux glossy black tipped with faded crimson that she'd given herself in a last-ditch effort to maintain mental stability, but instead of the overgrown roots that usually sat on top of her head-
Were ears; Long, twitchy, black and crimson bunny ears to be exact.
She nearly fell from the curb as she stepped away from her makeshift mirror image, twisting this way and that as she rubbed at her eyes with the hope that maybe things would become clearer. When that did little to help her, she found herself pressing against the window again, dragging her fingers across her face and pulling at the roots of her hair until her skin screamed for her to stop- And that only seemed to make it all worse, the window became more foggy with each panting breath, her fingers thoroughly smearing the glass as she attempted to peer through the condensation.
Tearing herself away from the visage, she did the only thing she could think of doing at a time like this; She walked.
It was hard to tell how long she walked, winding around street corners away from crowds and peering into shop windows for what felt like hours; The clock tower she passed did little to help tell the time, it's numbers making little sense to her. It must have been somewhere between midnight and morning, the darkened streets reflecting back the glowing red from the sky above and the flickering street lamps doing little to light her way. After narrowly avoiding a group of cat-callers, complete with hole-ridden ears and scraggly whiskers, and following the edge of what the signs signified as a "Cannibal Colony" in order to gaze fondly at the clean antiquated streets, she found herself sitting in front of a small coffee shop. The hour or two she spent lost in her thoughts passed by quickly, the clinking of keys opening the small shop from the inside drawing her attention as the sun began to rise.
She waited until the sole inhabitant had shuffled it's way back behind the counter before poking her head into the tiny shop; Inside was quaint, and much cleaner than the city she'd spent the night wandering. The barista eyed her nervously as the door swung shit with a clinking of a bell, looking over her dark ragged clothing and clearing his throat softly when she stood idly for too long in the warm entryway-This creature was much easier to take in, and was almost plain looking compared to the other's she'd seen in the night. Bright yellow eyes following her movements as she walked towards the counter from beneath a mop of sandy blonde, but she still found herself enthralled- Either he didn't mind her ogling his scales or he was just ignoring her rudeness entirely, because as soon as she stepped absentmindedly up to the register he said the most normal thing she could have imagined.
"What can I get you?"
Her mouth opened uselessly, unsure as to why she'd even walked up in the first places as she looked over the menu before stepping away from the polished countertop with a small shake of her head.
"I'm sorry, I- I don't have any money, I, uh,-"
"Water then."
It was quiet as he poured a glass and pushed it towards her unceremoniously. Her hands shook as she took it, not used to the feeling of padded fingertips gripping the cold glass as she brought it to her lips; She could not stop herself from drinking it all in one go, her throat finally beginning to feel whole again as she set the empty glass back down. It was refilled without question, and the barista nodded her towards the nearby tables with a sharp cough.
"S-s-so," He said slowly, the syllable catching between his teeth. "You seem fresh."
"Excuse me?"
"You're new, just fell into town?"
"That's...one way to say it."
He squinted at her, a long tongue flicking between his lips as he incredulously asked;
"Do you not know where the fuck you are?"
"No, not really."
The barista sighed, raking a hand down his face as he took a breath to answer- But he fell suddenly silent, save for a soft hiss as he slunk further behind the shining silver coffee machines, the narrow slits of his eyes trained on the front windows. She turned quickly, too quickly, to follow his gaze and sputtered as a new found fuzzy ear flopped across her face. By the time she'd managed to peer bookcases that sat near the windowsill, whatever had spooked her reptilian acquaintance had gone, the only movement on the street a swishing pair of coattails disappearing around the street lamp into the shadows. The silence held for longer than she would have liked, the barista edging his way around the counter to stand at the doorway and anxiously gaze down the street; She nearly jumped out of her skin when he spoke up again.
"You're in hell s-s-sweetheart."
"You can say that again."
"I mean it, this is hell," He said as he stepped away from the door and turned his attention to her. "You remember dyin'?"
"Vaguely."
"Well, apparently you did s-s-something that pissed off the men upstairs."
He hissed humorlessly at his own joke, his fangs catching the fluorescents that hung above their heads as his lip curled back from them. Picking up her empty glass, he tossed a now folded towel over his shoulder.
"Welcome to Pentagram City, and good fucking luck."