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user is offline ●
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Ne cherchez plus mon cœur; des monstres l’ont mangé.
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Posts: 26
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Fated-Human
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Fluid
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Crypt Resident
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Post by Odette on Dec 21, 2015 20:45:04 GMT
There was a silence like no other; it entrapped Odette’s mind and it felt like a conscious death. Mania began to sweep throughout her and her pulse thundered swiftly deep in her breast. She took rapid short breaths and static vision seeped at the edge of her mind.
“Au secours!” A gasp for help attempted to escape her lips.
She began to feel around in the darkness and feeling slightly like a fool her heart slowed some. She had felt like a comet hurtling in a vacuum in space-no sound, just dizzying suction, but her hands had found purchase upon cold stone and thus she felt more secure. Her last memory before the darkness was that she had been returning to her hotel in Paris but that something had led her astray…
Odette’s wide eyes began to adjust to her surroundings and what she saw astounded her. Fractures lined the stone cavern around her and green light blazed forth from the cracks and lit up the gloom. A shimmering lake was to her left and it radiated with stillness and sparkling reflections.
Heavy confusion weighed upon her head:What was this place? How could this be a possibility? She clambered to her feet and dusted off the fur-trimmed edges of her black halter dress and pulled her wolf fur coat closer. Gripping her duffle bag she began to explore the cave only to have one of her heeled shoes slip into a crevice and snapped. Odette fell with a slight cry and tore the flesh of her knee.
“Merde!” She cursed, got up, and then tossed both shoes into the lake. Grumbling more French obscenities she inspected the gash and noted she ripped the skin far worse than expected and the blood ran red indeed. Utterly disoriented and upset she gave a groan of frustration and threw her bag to the ground and retrieved her cigarette and its holder, and her book of matches. Puffing long and hard she exhaled and her nerves yielded some.
“Allo?!” She yelled in the dark, assuming still that she was in France. “est-ce que quelqu'un est là?” A hiss of air blew through her lips as small rolling waves of pain swept through her and she began to worry that she had gravely mistaken the state of her "simple wound". Even now a small pool of blood had began to collect at her feet, staining her dainty white ankle-socks.
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