![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Jul. 7th, 2020 12:00 am| mailbox Leave all mail for Esther here. |
It's been a couple of days since Esther found herself suddenly turned into a vampire, and she hasn't fed once. Eventually, she knows that she'll have to give in, maybe visit a blood bank and hope that donated blood still works for her purposes, but for the time being, the idea of putting someone's health in danger for the sake of her comfort is too much to overcome. But her body clearly yearns for it. The longer she goes without, the more she's aware of people's pulses as she passes them in the street, the sound of their heartbeats soft and sweet to her ears.
She takes a deep breath as she travels down the street today, one hand gripped tightly around her rosary for support. She can do this. It's just a few errands she needs to run before she can return back to her quarters and try to eat as much bread as she can to stave off the edge.
The sign on the crosswalk changes, and she steps forward, swallowing thickly as she approaches a large crowd of people, all of them chatting merrily as they approach. Her cheeks flush, and Esther closes her eyes as she parts them straight down the middle, their pulses a cacophony to her ears. They smell strangely sweet to her as well, and Esther can practically taste the tang on the back of her tongue.
No.
Unfortunately, closing her eyes against the temptation results in Esther forgetting that the other side of the street has a curb, and her eyes fly open with a slight yelp as she trips over the sidewalk, bracing herself against the street lamp and cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Fortunately, she didn't spill or rip anything.
But she's starting to wonder how much longer she can operate like this.
She takes a deep breath as she travels down the street today, one hand gripped tightly around her rosary for support. She can do this. It's just a few errands she needs to run before she can return back to her quarters and try to eat as much bread as she can to stave off the edge.
The sign on the crosswalk changes, and she steps forward, swallowing thickly as she approaches a large crowd of people, all of them chatting merrily as they approach. Her cheeks flush, and Esther closes her eyes as she parts them straight down the middle, their pulses a cacophony to her ears. They smell strangely sweet to her as well, and Esther can practically taste the tang on the back of her tongue.
No.
Unfortunately, closing her eyes against the temptation results in Esther forgetting that the other side of the street has a curb, and her eyes fly open with a slight yelp as she trips over the sidewalk, bracing herself against the street lamp and cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Fortunately, she didn't spill or rip anything.
But she's starting to wonder how much longer she can operate like this.
"Mary?"
Only minutes ago, Esther couldn't tell anyone what the chamber looked like. All that she focused on was the color of the coffin under her fingers, and the engraved nameplate which interrupted its otherwise smooth surface. She spent countless hours resting over the coffin, and countless hours sleeping in the room, as though waiting would bring him back. A part of her believes that it can, even now. Father Abel Nightroad isn't supposed to die. This isn't how it's supposed to happen, and so it must be a dream. Some kind of nightmare that she can't extricate herself from.
I am on your side.
He's supposed to be right here.
Dream or not, she can't rest in that world forever. Can't lose herself to the heavy weight of regret that stifles the air in her lungs, leadens the arms by her side. There is a world beyond the walls of the church and family waiting to hold her hand. It'd be selfish to wait.
Her cheek still stings from the force of Mary's slap, and Esther runs a cautious glove over the tingling skin as she takes a few steps forward. This isn't the right church. She's fallen through the looking glass; this is, for once, a nightmare.
"Colonel Mary Spencer?"
With a lingering glance over her shoulder and the crinkle of paper in her hands, Esther turns to run forward, towards the entrance of the church. The church echoes with the sound of her heels, and she can't breathe, she can't catch any air, and her heart hurts as though it's trying to stop. Esther's vision blurs with tears as she bursts through the entrance of the church and meets bright blue skies overhead.
Gasping for breath, Esther glances to either side, none of the streets looking familiar. She falls to her knees with an ugly scrape of the rosary in her hand against stone.
"Where am I?"
Only minutes ago, Esther couldn't tell anyone what the chamber looked like. All that she focused on was the color of the coffin under her fingers, and the engraved nameplate which interrupted its otherwise smooth surface. She spent countless hours resting over the coffin, and countless hours sleeping in the room, as though waiting would bring him back. A part of her believes that it can, even now. Father Abel Nightroad isn't supposed to die. This isn't how it's supposed to happen, and so it must be a dream. Some kind of nightmare that she can't extricate herself from.
I am on your side.
He's supposed to be right here.
Dream or not, she can't rest in that world forever. Can't lose herself to the heavy weight of regret that stifles the air in her lungs, leadens the arms by her side. There is a world beyond the walls of the church and family waiting to hold her hand. It'd be selfish to wait.
Her cheek still stings from the force of Mary's slap, and Esther runs a cautious glove over the tingling skin as she takes a few steps forward. This isn't the right church. She's fallen through the looking glass; this is, for once, a nightmare.
"Colonel Mary Spencer?"
With a lingering glance over her shoulder and the crinkle of paper in her hands, Esther turns to run forward, towards the entrance of the church. The church echoes with the sound of her heels, and she can't breathe, she can't catch any air, and her heart hurts as though it's trying to stop. Esther's vision blurs with tears as she bursts through the entrance of the church and meets bright blue skies overhead.
Gasping for breath, Esther glances to either side, none of the streets looking familiar. She falls to her knees with an ugly scrape of the rosary in her hand against stone.
"Where am I?"
