Caro did not know where he was. It was dark and everything was sharp and stale. He felt like he was dipped into tacky liquid left to dry somewhere. He couldn't remember where he was before and he had no idea where he was currently so his mind fled to the only logical conclusion. But if he was dead, it lacked the bliss of a righteous end, and while he ached and it tore to moved, it was hardly the torture of an ignoble one. His forehead creased and he could feel the skin around his eyes crack. This certainly wasn't the nothingness of the abyss. Perhaps Victor had taken him over and shunted him to a dark corner of his own mind, but why was he so sticky. He glanced around before he felt a strange tearing on his eye lids and the faintest glimmer of candle light broke through in a sideways slit. He squished his check up toward his brow and back down until he could fully break the seal of gunk that held his eyes closed. It hurt for a half second before it disappeared beneath the waves of pain and wrongness and drowning below.
He was in a room, it was dim brown and ruddy orange all around. His vision was blurred but he had been in enough inn rooms in his life to recognize it without truly seeing it and even then he could tell Esme's silhouette sitting in a chair looking down at something. It relaxed him. He tried to open his mouth to speak but his lips were neatly glued together. They peeled apart with a slow uncomfortable rawness. He let out a kinda awkward squeak. His throat was impossibly dry. His tongue lay limp in the bottom of his open mouth like rough masonry grinding against the bottom of his mouth. He creeked out a quietly plantive “water”.
He woke up a time later cool water pressed up against his lips. It poured impossibly slowly into his mouth and he drank for what seemed an age before the cup disppeared away. He tried to lurch forward, but he barely moved before pain and dizziness overtook him. Eventually he woke again. He lifted his head slightly, leaning his back up through the pain and his heart beating in his ears and spoke quitely, “How long.” The worst of the confusion was over, now was the fear. He had to know even if he couldn't doing anything about anything yet.
He was in a room, it was dim brown and ruddy orange all around. His vision was blurred but he had been in enough inn rooms in his life to recognize it without truly seeing it and even then he could tell Esme's silhouette sitting in a chair looking down at something. It relaxed him. He tried to open his mouth to speak but his lips were neatly glued together. They peeled apart with a slow uncomfortable rawness. He let out a kinda awkward squeak. His throat was impossibly dry. His tongue lay limp in the bottom of his open mouth like rough masonry grinding against the bottom of his mouth. He creeked out a quietly plantive “water”.
He woke up a time later cool water pressed up against his lips. It poured impossibly slowly into his mouth and he drank for what seemed an age before the cup disppeared away. He tried to lurch forward, but he barely moved before pain and dizziness overtook him. Eventually he woke again. He lifted his head slightly, leaning his back up through the pain and his heart beating in his ears and spoke quitely, “How long.” The worst of the confusion was over, now was the fear. He had to know even if he couldn't doing anything about anything yet.
10-06-2024, 03:53 PM
