anastasia
Senior Member
Making a point is a matter of opinion. I'd rather make a difference
With me? Expect the unexpected!
Posts: 285
|
Post by anastasia on Nov 11, 2012 1:11:34 GMT -5
(( OOC: Author's Notes: Continuation from "Burn It To The Ground"))
Limp as a fresh lifeless cadaver yet still warm and still breathing. Just barely it seemed. Her pink satin nightie was dirty and burned in a couple places as much as her hair was an utter mess. Her face all smudged with soot and ash with a little cut on her forearm, shin and her collarbone. Nothing too deep. She was more overwhelmed by the smoke she inhaled than anything else. Unconscious and completely unaware of what had just transpired.
By 3am, the Witching Hour as some called it, where spirits were at their height, she awoke slowly coughing and wheezing the the 3 chimes of a mantle clock. Her throat burned intensely as did her eyes and she squeezed them tightly closed. Darkness was all around as she continued to cough wondering if it was a dream that she had of the house burning down since she was in her room sleeping.
Trying to get up as she reached out for a lamp but could not feel one on the end table. The end table was not there! She couldn't see a thing as her eyes stung so bad. Her throat so raw as she coughed and choked. Unable to speak as she tried to cry out for Billie. Where was she? Her legs felt hot and painful as did her arms, her nightie was not as soft and gentle upon her skin as her hands caressed over her torso to feel parts were burned and melted. She was gasping for air and starting to panic as she got up and stumbled around the room for a light.
It felt like an eternity but she finally found a light switch. When the light flooded the room, she squeezed her eyes shut for a spell and tried several times to open them. They were blurry and stung terribly. Now looking down at her nightie to see it was dirty with ash and burn marks. A cut that stung on her forearm, leg and near her neck. She started to panic, gasping for air and coughing. She tried to scream but it was nothing more than a soundless wind from her throat. Panicking even more as she stumbled around, looking at the room. It was a nice room, very nice. But it was not the room at the house! The house! If this was not the room at the house, then were was she?
Twisting around with her hot, aching legs that felt rather weak and staggered to the door, she struggled with it a moment, rattling herself and the door before she opened it and flung herself out of the room out into the Hallway. Twisting around to face one direction, then the other. Still panicking and trying so hard to catch her breath. She didn't know where she was at all as she attempted to cry then gather her wits slightly, trying to breath and coughing. With a stagger, she went down the hall bouncing slowly from one side of the hallway to the other then down the center at the very end. The place was mostly dark and spooky. Sounds all around that only made the situation worse and drove her to nearly insanity. Huffing and gasping, coughing and choking. Unable to scream, unable to breath, unable to cry but her eyes burned just as her throat and lungs and legs. Her mouth moved as she tried to call out for someone, squeaking with barely a noise, wanting Billie so much! She was like a terrified little girl needing her daddy. Stumbling and staggering all around in the dark, reacting to noises with a gasping squeak, all while she was running through the halls and corridors of the Manor, utterly... lost!
|
|
|
Post by Erik Lavalais on Nov 11, 2012 1:37:16 GMT -5
Erik was on his way back to his house on the lake from the greenhouse. He hummed along to the song stuck in his head at the moment: Mozart's Don Giovanni Overture. He was feeling in the mood for Don Giovanni. His mood was dark, and he couldn't shake the feeling of sadness that had overwhelmed him. Christine was married, Teressa was hardly about the house when he was, and he had no one else to talk to. Loneliness...wasn't that how it always had been? Since the accident? Yes. Always.
His journal was clutched in one hand, his pencils in the other. He'd been drawing and writing while he relaxed in his finished greenhouse. The honeysuckle...he loved that section. That section, the lily section, and the roses. Roses were his favourite flower. Yet they always reminded him of what he'd never have. His favourite flower should have been carnations. Then, at least, there would've been a silent joke. Roses for love, carnations for death...And he was death incarnate, wasn't he? The angel of death! That was one of his many names in Persia. The Little Sultana's Angel of Death, her Angel of Doom. Persia...he'd have to go back, though he'd been here for months now...he suspected there was a price on his head somewhere.
|
|
anastasia
Senior Member
Making a point is a matter of opinion. I'd rather make a difference
With me? Expect the unexpected!
Posts: 285
|
Post by anastasia on Nov 11, 2012 2:09:38 GMT -5
Tears flowed down her dirty face as her eyes burned as though she were in Hell. Perhaps she was! Her hand all around her as she stumbled and staggered in half runs through the corridors and hallways. Occasionally bumping into furniture or walls only because she could not see. The halls were dark still with barely any light. Even if there was light, she could barely see since her eyes were burning from the exposure to the smoke and fire. Wild thoughts ran through her mind as another sound made her squeak in terror, she twirled around and whimpered with a gasp and coughed and choked. Falling against a wall as she coughed and whimpered with a gasp.
Pushing herself off against that wall after a while, eyes would never stop burning as she stumbled on, feeling around for some way out or trying to figure out where she was. A loud thud from behind her spooked her terribly as she squeaked, jumped and ran crying and coughing.
Rounding a hall and staggering down it still terrified that something was following her she did not notice someone before her. She could not see them. Coughing and whimpering without a voice as she bumped into the man but she did not know it was a person, only thought it was an edge to a wall or some pillar, she twisted around and stumbled to the ground choking and crying. She laid there in her distraught state, in that dirty ash covered, slightly burned nightie. Her lengthy hair all a mess with ash and askew all around her. Another sound made her jump and squeak and crying. Her mouth was moving as she was trying to call out for Billie but choked and coughed as she tried.
|
|
|
Post by Erik Lavalais on Nov 13, 2012 11:26:35 GMT -5
Erik was rounding a corner when he was suddenly hit and knocked back. Loose pages of his drawings went flying as he fell to the floor. It took him a second to register that he'd fallen before he clutched his mask to his face. Giving a little huff, he sat up.
"Quoi...?" He looked around, just in case it had been some animal. It was much smaller than he was; he'd felt that. Then he looked in front of him. A girl, hardly wearing anything and looking completely lost was sprawled on the floor in front of him. God...she looked pitiful. Her hair was all over, she had ash all over her already burnt article of clothing.
"Vous allez bien?" He was distracted, and had reverted to his native French. Most people around here spoke French, so he'd assumed she could too. But could she? "Ah, je m'excuse. Parlez vous français?" He hoped he wasn't making a fool of himself. Pushing himself up, he took his already tousled hair out of it's ribbon and held out a hand to her. Shoving the ribbon in his pocket, he used his now-free hand to smooth his hair back. He hated it when his long hair got in his face. It was most inconvenient, but he kept his hair that way out of tradition. It was already past his shoulder blades and fast approaching the middle of his back, which was QUITE the accomplishment.
|
|
anastasia
Senior Member
Making a point is a matter of opinion. I'd rather make a difference
With me? Expect the unexpected!
Posts: 285
|
Post by anastasia on Nov 13, 2012 14:13:36 GMT -5
Her pitiful whimpers and silent attempts to call out for the only father figure she'd known for years now, all done so in vain! But what could she do? She had to do something! Try at least! Now on the carpet-rug flooring of these dark Manor halls she continued to whimper hoarsely, struggle with her breathing as she coughed. Her legs cocked to the side out behind her, twisted half-way upon her side, partially sat up with her palms upon the rug, head hunched over with that chestnut brunette length cascading all around her face, hiding it from anyone's view.
In this nightmare reality, she heard such an incredible voice and tilted her head up, allowing her eyes to lift up and gaze upon whom the voice belonged to. Yet in that darkness she could barely see a thing namely cause her eyes still stung and foggy from the smoke. Barely making out the shape of someone. Her dirty face contorted as she hoarsely cried and tried to talk but no words could escape those chapped lips. Barely making out the dim golden glow that was unknownst to her, his eyes. She couldn't even make out his hand extended out to her. Coughing again this time more violently and collapsed to the rug floor, coughing and hoarsely whimpering. Trying so hard to talk but unable to. Chapped lips trying to form words that only an expert lip-reader could maybe make out.
|
|
|
Post by Erik Lavalais on Nov 13, 2012 16:29:16 GMT -5
The girl collapsed and in a moment, Erik was at her side, scooping her up to carry her somewhere where he could help her. More than likely, he'd have to take her back to his home and dress her wounds there. He had extra rooms that she could stay in if she needed it, and he'd found a trunk in his spare room with extra women's clothes. They were made for someone shorter than her, but she might be able to fit in them. There was always the option of the corset, though Erik hated the things and didn't want to force any woman to wear one.
She looked like she was mouthing gibberish. Perhaps she was mute? But no, there was a little bit of sound when she mouthed. She'd been through some trauma, then, to have lost her ability to phonate like that. Poor thing...he'd help her as best he could, and send her on her way. She needed help as fast as possible.
Keeping her secure in his arms, he rushed to the lifts with her. She felt weak. This was feeling all very familiar...Sixty-seven years ago, something of this very nature had happened before. He'd had to carry a young woman to his home so he could save her life. Sprinting up to the lift he jammed the button, then looked down at the girl. He wondered how much longer she'd be conscious...
|
|
anastasia
Senior Member
Making a point is a matter of opinion. I'd rather make a difference
With me? Expect the unexpected!
Posts: 285
|
Post by anastasia on Nov 13, 2012 16:54:30 GMT -5
She felt so weak now. The exertion and lack of air in her lungs during her panic left her body nearly numb and pained and starved. Coughing uncontrollably as she barely felt her weakened form gathered into a person's arms. It was in a straved, ragged gasp for air from her fits of coughing that she realized someone was hold her, carrying her. Thinking perhaps it was Billie who finally found her or some firefighter who was rushing her to some ambulance to get her to the hospital.
Barely understanding or feeling the movement of the one carrying her, or even her own swaying as the person made haste. Leaning against the person as her arms weakly, loosely wrapped around his neck as she coughed and gasped almost like she had whooping cough. Her throat burned. Her eyes burned as tears continued to stream down her face. Trying so hard to talk, her voice was gone and the hoarse force that emanated from her lips. It sounded like gunk was clogging her throat, making the almost silent clicking, gasping sounds as she tried to talk and coughed.
Wavering along the border of consciousness and unconsciousness, her eyes slowly closed or fluttered. Her breathing becoming more staggered and raspy with shallower coughs. Finally the faint sound, so very very faint was heard, "save.. me... "
|
|
|
Post by Erik Lavalais on Nov 13, 2012 17:16:23 GMT -5
English. That was English. But NOT an English accent....must be that country across the sea, that America.....Either way, she asked for help. Well he MUST give it now. The lift rattled up to them and he stepped in and hurriedly pressed the button. As it rattled down to the labyrinth that led to his home, he pulled the girl closer. She seemed like she was having trouble keeping her head up. He didn't need her stretching out her throat or getting all the blood rushed to her head before he could lay her down.
They came to a stop at his floor and he strode out of the lift and then took off at a sprint through the labyrinth. As he ran through the tight corridors, he tried to keep her as still as possible. Then they came to the lake. He shifted her to one side to hold her with one arm as he pulled the boat closer by it's rope. He carefully set her down before getting in and grabbing the oars. He quickly guided the boat across and was into the house in no time.
The lights were off, and the house smelled slightly of the wood from the fireplace. He suspected that Teressa was asleep, or just recently went to bed. He pushed the door closed then took his guest to the back bedroom, and laid her out.
"I'll help you, I promise...You'll be fine. Trust me." Erik kept his voice calm and reassuring. Smooth and suave. It would help keep her calm.
|
|
anastasia
Senior Member
Making a point is a matter of opinion. I'd rather make a difference
With me? Expect the unexpected!
Posts: 285
|
Post by anastasia on Nov 13, 2012 17:45:16 GMT -5
Coughing and struggling to breathe while wavering in and out of consciousness, fairly limp in the stranger's arms. Her own arms drape loosely around him and rested her head upon his shoulder. Everything was an absolute blur mixed in with the darkness. Not knowing where she was or what was happening. It was all like a strange dream that she could barely comprehend.
Finally feeling her body set down, some strange coursing surge through her form as though something solid was being pushed through her veins. Or some electric current. Whatever it was, it was uncomfortable and nearly made her body stiff. What that was rigor mortis would feel like if one lived to feel it? It hurt. The ache and weakness it left behind hurt. Her ears caught the sound of someone talking. Though her voice was gone, lungs burned, her eyes blurred and stung, every part of her being was nearly done for. The soothing voice put her mind at ease. Tilting her head in the direction the voice came from, her eyes blankly gazing at him yet unable to really see the masked face. She coughed weakly over and over as those eyes slowly closed after battling to keep them open several times. Finally she fell once again into unconsciousness. Now she was completely at his mercy.
|
|
|
Post by Erik Lavalais on Nov 13, 2012 18:06:30 GMT -5
Erik quickly set to work dressing what burns he could see. He didn't really want to delve into nursing the skin under the little clothing she had on, so he hoped to God that nothing was seriously injured under there. He wasn't about to go there. He cleaned off her cuts and bandaged them, bandaged the burns, and promptly tucked her in. Poor thing...
Taking one last look to make sure she was alright, he went over to the lights and doused them, then went over to the settee and lay down. It was late, he was tired, but he needed to stay in the same room should she need anything. He closed his eyes, keeping his ears open until he fell asleep. From time to time he'd twitch, as he wasn't in a deep enough sleep to be having his nightmare.
|
|
anastasia
Senior Member
Making a point is a matter of opinion. I'd rather make a difference
With me? Expect the unexpected!
Posts: 285
|
Post by anastasia on Nov 13, 2012 18:21:27 GMT -5
She slept. Rest may or may not have been the best thing for her. Granted a hospital would be best to give her the care and attention she needed but, she didn't know where the Devil had brought her. She truly thought she was in Hell. There were no dreams or nightmares. Remaining unconscious for an undisclosed amount of time. So by the time she finally awoke, there was no inclination of whether it was day or night. No windows, no light. But she was in a bedroom.
Opening her slightly stinging eyes and a weak cough, it could have been minutes or hours or days that had passed. She never knew. Feeling so utterly stiff and painful as she laid in the strange bed. Rising a hand to her throat and felt the burning throughout her whole respiratory system. Coughing once again, as she struggled to sit up only to twist over to her right side and cough more. Oh, her body ached! Laying now upon her side as she tried to breathe without coughing but it was impossible. Closing her eyes to rid the stinging several times. She laid there a moment before opening her eyes again to look at the old style furniture in the darkness.
|
|
|
Post by Erik Lavalais on Nov 13, 2012 18:44:19 GMT -5
It was a few hours before Erik registered a stir out of his guest. Because he was sleeping lightly, he sat up, looking over at her. She was opening her eyes. With a groan, he got up and went over to the fireplace, grabbing a piece of wood and and tossing it into the alcove. He bent down and took a box of matches out of his pocket, then lit a fire. That would help her see, and keep the room warm. It was a small fire, just barely a glow. But it would suffice. He turned.
"You're awake...Are you in pain? I can help." Erik walked over to her, keeping his hands behind his back. Best not to scare her. That would be bad...."I've no idea who you are, but I shall do my best to keep you healthy. You may think it strange, to be sure, but I assure you, I mean you no harm."
|
|
anastasia
Senior Member
Making a point is a matter of opinion. I'd rather make a difference
With me? Expect the unexpected!
Posts: 285
|
Post by anastasia on Nov 13, 2012 19:06:37 GMT -5
Laying there upon her side as she took ragged breaths and coughed a couple times. She felt like absolute hell! Never had she felt like this before. Not even when she was tossed from horses over the years or that accident. Well, ok, that accident rivaled it pretty well enough.
The sound of something or someone moving captured her attention. Hearing the progression of noises from behind her, rolling over to see the glow of a fire had started. The silouette of a tall, thin man darkened and accented by the light the little flame gave off. Her eyes diverted back to the fire as she gazed at it, still stinging but not as terribly bad as it was before she slipped into unconsciousness. Her sight was still blurred but the sound of the man's perfect voice soothed her as those eyes locked upon the fire and yet she listened to him.
Laying upon her side, opened her mouth but her throat was burning as those lips were utterly chapped. No sound but she tried to speak. It was so very soft and hoarse, practically inaudible. Almost shaking her head, instead... she nodded slowly and stiffly at first. It was so difficult to see any of the details of the man. Any details of the room in fact. Everything was still a slight blur granted not as terribly obscured. Coughing more as she laid upon her side, still exhausted from the ordeal. She was trying to talk, but her hoarse voice kept her silent. The pain in her stinging eyes was so evident that she was disliking the loss of her voice. Moving a hand from under the covers and shifted them as she laid there, waving him over. It was impossible for her to speak to someone at such a great distance.
|
|
|
Post by Erik Lavalais on Nov 14, 2012 0:55:32 GMT -5
She motioned Erik closer and he obeyed without question. "I'll make you some tea...That should help your voice. Perhaps a nice herbal tea...?" He hesitated when he reached an area about three feet away from her. Should he go closer? Would she consider that scandalous? Was that bad? He didn't want to do the wrong thing and make her an uncooperative patient. That would just cause trouble, and not help him in the slightest.
He caught more details than he'd bothered looking for, now that they were more casual. She was nicely structured, facially, with handsome features that most men would find attractive. Not to say that he didn't find her attractive, quite the contrary. He thought she was rather pretty, although he was quite sure that she would be of no interest to him, and therefore wasn't worth the effort. Why waste energy on a cause that can't happen, right...? He wished he'd known that sooner....that would've helped....immensely....
|
|
anastasia
Senior Member
Making a point is a matter of opinion. I'd rather make a difference
With me? Expect the unexpected!
Posts: 285
|
Post by anastasia on Nov 14, 2012 1:53:37 GMT -5
The dim lighting was not enough for her to see any details of him. The face was dark and she didn't understand why. Was he of African descent? Blinking her eyes several times and made a face as though her eyes stung and they did. Lord, did they burn! Just as much as her lungs and throat. Her mouth felt so dry. Covering her mouth as she coughed before motioning him closer. There was no way he could be able to hear her from that distance.
Coughing more as she waited for him to move closer. She kept motioning for him to move as close as one could possibly get to a person - which she waited for him to move to right next to her. However long it took, she waited. Laying there, coughing and gasping for air at times while trying to swallow to moisten her throat and mouth. Her voice was barely a hoarse whisper, "thank .. you... " and covered her mouth as she coughed a couple times. "anastasia," she said slowly in that weak, hoarse whisper then went into a coughing fit which nearly forced her to bury her head into the blanket. Wheezing and gasping for air between the coughing. A hand over the breastbone of her chest as the pain was ebbing through her chest.
Once the coughing fit was over, she laid there slowly gasping for air silently with eyes closed. But by no means was she unconscious. After a moment, her eyes opened to catch blurred details that the man was masked! Was it Lenoir? Or perhaps Carriere? No. No, this man did not look like either of them. She simply laid there and took this all in calmly at the moment. If it had been any other time, she would perhaps have thrown a fit or been more offensive. Much like she had been with Lenoir when they first met. But not this time. She hadn't the capacity of any sort to even react to whom ever was here. He did state he would help her, make her feel better. At that thought, closing her eyes tightly as the pain in her chest increased and she softly sighed since a moan was not able to vocalize. Everything... hurt.
|
|