Post by Fawn on Aug 15, 2013 10:29:37 GMT -5
The creak of the Trapdoor slid along parallel to the sounds of the night. Her hammock swayed minorly with her breathing. Behind her eyelids, images strode and danced within the confines of her subconscious.....
The feel of her armor was replaced by some type of cloth. She looked down at her clothing to find her leather gone and a robe she was unfamiliar with in its place. It was too close to her neck. She tugged but it was useless, the robe was staying. In a moment the suffocating material would be lost as she hurried down the long corridor. She had to be somewhere, NOW, but where? Dread seeped in like water over the sides of the ship during a storm as it hits a high wave. She should have been there by now, but the hallway won't end, it goes on forever. Quickly, it's not just stone walls she sees. Emaciated arms reach out from intermittent cells trying to grab hold. She wants to help, but resolve is chiseled away as she catches a glimpse of something behind her. Robes, the same stifling kind that adorn her, are following. Her lengthy legs increase their speed and she digs into the pathway beneath her feet in an effort to outrun them. Her fight or flight instinct which leads to fight normally is long gone. She has to run. It's the only way. Hazy, what little illumination the torches along the wall gave off is shuttered with the darkness. Stopping means the end and it's not an option. Terror overlays itself across the dread compounding it, weighing it heavier. Abruptly the hallway seems to end at a door. She should feel confused but she doesn't have time. It opens without any help from her as if it had been waiting for her and she skids into the room, nearly falling with the halt of speed. Looking up from her feet as they slide into a standing position, she comes face to face with them. Their robes are darker, a deeper black.
No.
The word is eternally stuck in her throat. She can't speak. Their faces are expressionless as they look on. Glancing down, she realizes her hands are cupped as if waiting for a drop of sanity to return to the situation. Instead of sanity falling into her hands, she holds the crystal. Warm, it throbs in her hands. Pulsing with a life of its own the darkness is no more as a bright light extends out, blinding everything and everyone.
- - - - - - - - -
She sprang bolt upright instinctively reaching for the war fork beside her. She could hear her heart in her ears. It pounded as though she’d just run through Skara with the guards behind her. She hadn’t and couldn’t really remember anything that would account for it. None of that mattered at the moment either, there was someone in the room. She squinted to get a better view as she called out.
“Who the hell….”
The moonlight only had the chance to hit the silhouette for a moment though as her words dropped off as quickly as the figure did. The room was empty. She was alone once more. Turning, she clutched the fork tightly and padded barefoot across the cabin floor. With her free hand she opened the drawer to find the bag, complete with crystal and journal entry, right where she'd left it.
The feel of her armor was replaced by some type of cloth. She looked down at her clothing to find her leather gone and a robe she was unfamiliar with in its place. It was too close to her neck. She tugged but it was useless, the robe was staying. In a moment the suffocating material would be lost as she hurried down the long corridor. She had to be somewhere, NOW, but where? Dread seeped in like water over the sides of the ship during a storm as it hits a high wave. She should have been there by now, but the hallway won't end, it goes on forever. Quickly, it's not just stone walls she sees. Emaciated arms reach out from intermittent cells trying to grab hold. She wants to help, but resolve is chiseled away as she catches a glimpse of something behind her. Robes, the same stifling kind that adorn her, are following. Her lengthy legs increase their speed and she digs into the pathway beneath her feet in an effort to outrun them. Her fight or flight instinct which leads to fight normally is long gone. She has to run. It's the only way. Hazy, what little illumination the torches along the wall gave off is shuttered with the darkness. Stopping means the end and it's not an option. Terror overlays itself across the dread compounding it, weighing it heavier. Abruptly the hallway seems to end at a door. She should feel confused but she doesn't have time. It opens without any help from her as if it had been waiting for her and she skids into the room, nearly falling with the halt of speed. Looking up from her feet as they slide into a standing position, she comes face to face with them. Their robes are darker, a deeper black.
No.
The word is eternally stuck in her throat. She can't speak. Their faces are expressionless as they look on. Glancing down, she realizes her hands are cupped as if waiting for a drop of sanity to return to the situation. Instead of sanity falling into her hands, she holds the crystal. Warm, it throbs in her hands. Pulsing with a life of its own the darkness is no more as a bright light extends out, blinding everything and everyone.
- - - - - - - - -
She sprang bolt upright instinctively reaching for the war fork beside her. She could hear her heart in her ears. It pounded as though she’d just run through Skara with the guards behind her. She hadn’t and couldn’t really remember anything that would account for it. None of that mattered at the moment either, there was someone in the room. She squinted to get a better view as she called out.
“Who the hell….”
The moonlight only had the chance to hit the silhouette for a moment though as her words dropped off as quickly as the figure did. The room was empty. She was alone once more. Turning, she clutched the fork tightly and padded barefoot across the cabin floor. With her free hand she opened the drawer to find the bag, complete with crystal and journal entry, right where she'd left it.