"Dear Diary,
Today SUCKS. I've been in bed non-stop, I feel fine. Fine! Doctor van der Kleij says I'm running a fever and Benji says I "look like a ghost". Whatever that means. But I'm fine. It's fine! Everything is fine."
The young woman lay in a bed two sizes too big for her, she wasn't used to it. Her mind silently frolicked in the place that was her fortress of now solitude until the next patrol of guards came to check on her. Not literal guards mind you, for her own mind in a fit of boredom had spent it's days imagining Benjamin and Petra as guards, this room a prison. She hated it here. Studying the folds and creases in the bedding, she thought back on her first weeks in the city. What a nightmare. She picked up her dingy stick infused with graphite, tapping it to her temple which unbenounced to her was slick with sweat.
"Maybe it's not fine. It will be though, I know it will. It's been a rocky first few weeks, I'll admit. It's nice to start in a new journal at least. If Benji goes through it, I'll throttle him as soon as I'm well enough. Where to begin. The attacks? There's this kahall, I think that's how it's spelled, it's been tormenting us. TORMENTING."
Her thoughts filled of those first few nights, the ghastly creature. It's maw, it's claws, the eyes.
Those eyes, they hadn't haunted her as she expected. No, other dreams haunted her. No wonder she was sick, if it wasn't one nightmare, it was the next. She felt heat, so much heat. Fueled by the nightmares and memories, she flung the pencil across the room. It stuck in the door frame, a lovely present for the next guard to find. Whoever it'll be.
She hoped it was Lizzie, then at least she wouldn't feel needlessly doted upon. Lizzie was probably more likely to punch her in the arm and tell her to get over it.
She needed that.
She fell back as a resounding huff escaped her, glancing to the open window. She wanted out. Out. She wanted to be out there, helping. She wanted to be at the Alms, or hunting down her attackers. Something. Most of all despite everything, the heat she felt made one emotion surface.
Anger.
She tried so hard, she tried to forgive that man. It was hard, she simply repeated it to herself
"God Empress Ness guide me."
It never worked. She hated them. Hated what they did to her, what they took from her. Her confidence was gone, like the hair cut from her head which she loved so. That reminded her of her mother. She missed her mother. She hated them for taking her freedom, not in the literal sense. She wasn't imprisoned, not literally, the chains only those with a keen sense for what we do not see could view. For these were not of iron, steel. Not something that could be broken with a sure hammer and some accuracy. They needed to be broken with determination. A sensation she did not have, could not wield. She was weighed down by chains she kept there for her comfort, for her safety. What was safe about it, truly? The words rang in her ears, they tormented the deepest, darkest most remote recesses of her mind and drove her mad with insomnia in any other case than when they drove her to exhaustion of the mind and body.
Just like that, light faded from her vision. She woke to a scream. Was it a scream? It was twisted, garbled and unkind to the ears. She felt the ground, cobble beneath her. Cold, and hard. There was something warm even still beneath her, that was washed away by punishing rain. What was that? The scent of copper filled the air. Open your eyes, Bernadette. Open your eyes, Buck.
Open your eyes.
She looped up, the scream had to come from somewhere. Forcing herself to a stand, why did she bleed? She followed the screams, flashes of purple, gold and old washed away stains of blue. Where was she? The smell of copper only got stronger, the rain stopped. The floor stained. Something chittered, something that was no man, or beast. It was a monster, and it's blood mixed with the sweet crimson that filled between the cobble, washing down the street to what water remained in the path. It's claws clicked and clacked, nearing her. It came into view, a intense flash of color seeing holes in her vision. Those eyes, she knew them. She feared seeing them here. Not again. Never again. She turned the ran, the screaming rang out and she found herself elsewhere. Near an old, decrepit and ruined temple. Turned over once more to nature. Maybe she was safe, she heard that scream again. It was him. That man. She hated that man. She saw herself, laying there. A knife meeting flesh with a sickening squelch, the scream calling out into the cold air once more.
It was no beast, no creature. It was her. She turned to run, the stonework filing into nothing but darkness beneath her feet. Voices rang out, a man's.
"She is afraid, I think."
"So how do I use that fear?"
Her voice responded back, echoing into the abyss as she began her descent, untrained and chaotic as she was she fell. Fell into oblivion as a last voice echoed and a unionist eye flickering in and out of view, distorted by the never ending vacuum.
"Who's lying to who? Remember."
"Remember."
"Remember."
Little lore story I did for Bernadette while I was away! She's been sick this. Entire-time. This 'sickness' may resurface, and she'll be taking it easy for the next few weeks when she can. I started a new job and I'm still waiting on some final things before ordering the new pc! Thank you for the patience, and I hope you enjoy the read!
Furthermore special thanks to @dimetros , @WildSages , @War_pig and @ChapterDeath for allowing me to use either interactions with my character or shit that's been said to miss Bucky for inspiration for the nightmare sequence. This was fun as hell to write!
Furthermore special thanks to @dimetros , @WildSages , @War_pig and @ChapterDeath for allowing me to use either interactions with my character or shit that's been said to miss Bucky for inspiration for the nightmare sequence. This was fun as hell to write!
