Wren Shelley remembers everything. (bethought) wrote in at_the_gates, @ 2012-02-14 19:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | !plot: london burning, estelle bennett, mr white, wren shelley |
WHO: Wren Shelley, Estelle Bennet/It, and, late, Mr. White
WHAT: Wren has hallucinations, meets It, and her powers go crazy.
WHERE: London, England.
WHEN: 12 AM/Sometime in between Days 1 and 2.
RATING: R for violence
The time is unknown. Wren stands alone at the front of a doorway. The walls are made of a dark wood, the floor of a pale, off-white linoleum. The bulbs in the hanging lamps above her as they swing back and forth on a unseen breeze. The doors in front of her have frosted glass windows, and in gold paint, they read
No. It is 12 AM. Wren lay on the couch in the Shelley living room, half-awake, the only light in the room coming from the error sign on the television screen. She gasped, and bolted upright. Shaking, Wren got up from the couch and began to walk down the hallway, hugging herself.
"Stupid," she whispered. "It's not real, you know it isn't. You've had that dream before." Wren had seen the news, and had watched the footage of London Bridge falling, the unicorns running on the lawns in Hyde Park, and the zombies shambling around Camden Town. Her own hallucinations had started to kick in after that--one minute, she was in the living room, the next, the entrance of, well, that place. She couldn't sleep, wouldn't sleep, because that's what seemed to trigger it. If Wren closed her eyes, if Wren let herself fall asleep, she would be in that world for good, and the ones that waited for her behind the door with the gold paint lettering would want to speak to her, and that was the last, last thing that Wren wanted to do...
Wren's plan had been to go down the hall to the stairwell, and up into her room, but something stopped her. Through the dark stained glass that made up part of the front door, Wren could see that someone was standing outside, and whoever they were, he or she was wearing a strange top hat. Whoever they were, though, she wasn't going to let them in. No, Wren was going to go another five steps, turn right, climb the stairs, and try to get a message to someone on the journals before she completely lost her mind. Wren took a step forward, and
The time is unknown. Wren stands alone at the front of a doorway. The walls are made of a dark wood, the floor of a pale, off-white linoleum. The bulbs in the hanging lamps above her as they swing back and forth on a unseen breeze. The doors in front of her have frosted glass windows, and in gold paint, they read WESTMINISTER MORGUE. She takes one step, then another, three, four, five steps, and she pushes the wooden door with it's frosted window open.
At 12:05 AM, Wren, with glassy, bloodshot eyes, unlatches the front door, and turns the door knob.