"Sensations from the former vampire Abigail after she was recently turned human"
QUOTE (Slices of Life @ Abigail Weir)
wrote:Frozen fruits and cream:
A bustling restaurant. You are sitting on a chair. There is laughter and warmth around you. You barely notice. Something in front of you has your attention. A bowl, wooden. Not particularly beautiful, but practical. Polished with years of frequent use. A sweet smell creeps into your nostrils. You breathe in. A twist in your stomach, replaced by gnawing hunger. You lean forward, just like you used to. The motion comes with practiced ease. A bite, eyes closed.
There is something cold touching your lips and nose. You chew. A crunch. The frozen delight crumbles between your teeth. Your mouth is cold as well. You sit up. More laughter. You are given a spoon.
Crunch. Hard. You resolve not to bite the spoon again.
Crunch. Things are starting to work. It is a cold, yet invigorating treat. Your lips feel a little numb. You feast your eyes on the slowly melting ice and the rough texture of the fruits. When did you last eat something this colorful? An afterthought: never.
Your head hurts.
Tears:
She is crying. Tears rolling down her cheeks, despite her happy smile and the way she fidgets. You cannot help yourself as your eyes well up with tears. She is happy. You are happy. Genuinely happy, not just intellectually. It is an important distinction. You mark it. There is salt on your tongue, a warm trail across a cheek.
Smile:
There is warmth in your chest, perhaps for the first time after a century of frost. It feels refreshing. Your lips curl up. That's all, a simple smile. Something you have not had in a very long time.
Breathe:
Breathe in. Breathe out. Inhale. Exhale. Concentrate. Focus. You need to breathe to stay alive now. Inhale. Exhale. Concentrating on breathing comes naturally to you. That was the only way to breathe. To speak. Breathe in. Breathe out.
Someone you know enters your field of vision. An elf with a top hat. You trust her implicitly in all things. You forget to breathe. Fortunately, your body remembers for you.
That feels so strange.
A song-whisper:
A distant, monotonous melody - played by a single instrument. It has been a long cycle. Perhaps the longest in your life since you died. A cycle of rebirth, new sensations. The excitement of a new dawn has long since faded and exhaustion has taken over, hanging over your shoulders like a heavy shroud. Rest. You desire sleep.
There is the melody again, sawing back and forth, never quite finishing.. A strange dreamscape opens in front of you, colorful nebulae promising mystery. A swirling pattern, myriad alluring colors. Leaning back, almost asleep. You stop; there's nothing to catch you if you fall. Nervous cacophony.
You're at home. This is safe as it is going to get. The chair is soft under you. The dim glow of a candle lights your desk. Books, parchments. A half-finished calculation. You are too tired. Rest. You should rest. But there you are, sitting. Surrounded by the flickering light, listening. Shadows play at the corner of your eye.
There are no minstrels playing music anywhere near the Harmonium headquarters at this hour. You are alone in the house. Tap tap tap. Your fingers strike the wooden surface of the desk to drown out the music, yet the tune keeps echoing between your ears. You concentrate. For a moment, it is easy to ignore, to make disappear. The monotonous tune even changes a little, if you want it to. The sound ripples according your expectations, yet it inevitably returns to the same, repeating chorus.
You cast a glance towards your bed, draw a long breath and listen.
The first nightmare:
Walking. You are surrounded by darkness. There is no direction nor a destination. Your steps do not make a sound. Floating. Something catches your eye - a faint glimmer. It is far away, guiding your steps in the darkness. Striding forward, with certain steps.
Suddenly, you fall.
Walking. The darkness engulfs you, but you can see the light ahead. You feel something rough brushing your shin as you keep walking towards it. There is nothing on the horizon, besides a faint promise of a direction. That is all you need.
You blink. It is gone.
Desperate, you turn around until you can find the light again. You struggle to find footing as your steps take you towards the guiding star. Heavy breathing. Intense. Yours. When you clench your fists, you notice that your hands are cold and clammy. As you stagger towards the light, your heart keeps beating faster and faster. You grow more concerned with each step you take.
And then, you hear it.
You find yourself laying on your back, safely tucked under a heavy blanket. Your entire body is damp, as are the crumpled sheets. The creased fabric cuts into your skin uncomfortably. Weary and shaken, you get up. The air is cold.
Sneeze:
Sitting. Restful slumber, head slumped forward. Distant footsteps. Not enough to stir you. Drifting. A snore. Your eyelids are heavy. At peace. Just barely aware of your surroundings.
Something.. soft. Sniff. Just a small bother. Brushing against your nose. What.. why? A feather?
"Achoo!" You open your eyes. Startled awake.