Re: Hotel: Ash D & Shane A
[Helena did a number on Crane back at the asylum, face slammed into the desk, head back against the wall, and while there's lumps aplenty upon her head and more than a few gashes where skin split and spilled blood, her neck's fine, surprisingly.
She can feel the press of fingers against her neck, the fingers that touch at the back of her neck, and she wants to bury away in the darkness, where things don't hurt, where there's nothing but the blackness to swallow her up. But then there's words, the smell of sweat and cigarettes, like the pub back home, and it's hard to ignore, hard to escape. There's a twitch of her right hand, eyes opening just a sliver. But the light's bright (dim as it is), and they shut almost immediately as she tries to turn her head away, to bury it against the floor. She's conscious, at least for the moment.]