all tangled up like balls of string Who: Cheila Where: Home, Cheila's dream When: Present day dreaming; content from the last five years Warning: Possible triggers of a sexual nature
The beginning came to her as it always did: dark, fuzzy and full of inaccuracies that she was never sure had been real or part of a dream she had not yet stepped out of. Time had blurred the rest. It had been the sense of urgency that woke her -- whether it was triggered by screams or by a sibling, Cheila did not know. Separate details that all seemed to occur at once, in the same place and without an order, but she knew that was not true. The list of things Cheila knew was fairly short, and every time they lead to the same desperate panic. Mother could not be disturbed. Someone was in the temple. They were taking people. Mother could not be disturbed. But she did not know what to do. Nothing had ever prepared her for the possibility of anything so hostile coming into their home and not only attacking people, but taking them. Caelia, the twins... And by the time she realised she could not see Dashiell’s darker hair among those who had seized them all, her lungs burned from the screaming.
On the way down she had twisted her ankle badly trying to stay upright when everyone else moved so much faster than she could. She remembered that. She imagined it was how it must be like to be swept away in a river, only her river had fangs -- and it did not carry boats, it drove one. A boat where her thoughts, her feelings, her everything got locked away in a box that only just fit all of her inside. She had let them go, let them float away in what little air she had in there until they decided to move her to the cage. It swung and hit the walls, though she didn’t care. The air beyond the small window in her line of sight called to her too loudly -- far too loudly for anything else to affect her much. The fighting among the vampires on board caused her ears to prick and her heart to beat a little faster, but if they stayed down at that end, away from her, it would be okay. Even as their voices got louder and the fight swung her cage from the ceiling like a pendulum, it would be okay. Other prisoners called for help as the two members of crew bounced each other off the cages and crates, but still it would be okay. Cheila’s eyes remained fixed to that sky, to the way the clouds had rolled in as her fear rose. Oh, she remembered what happened next because it should not have done. That lightning was hers, she knew it was, but she hadn’t the control to keep it from the boats.
How many had been left in the sinking vessel to drown? She did not know. But she had been plucked out of the sea like a naughty child trying to escape their mother.
And then... And then?
Elsewhere entirely. Open air, a sandy floor beneath her feet, but they were moving towards a large, ugly building. Her right arm was covered in dressings from where the new man, Him, had taken a liking to her. She did not feel particularly liked.
She did not understand his accent. He drawled and his words ran together. The words that she recognised were never ones that she was at all comforted to hear, else they made no sense to her. It was something she had noticed a lot since they had stopped at this place, though Cheila had lost track of how many other places they had been to or if there had ever really been anywhere else but the temple. There was a lump in her throat. There was a lump in her throat, but she was being spoken to by somebody she did not fully understand; it would be rude to walk away. A bad idea besides, since a wall of... of people seemed to form in whatever direction she tried to take. People out of nowhere, as though he kept them, this vampire; collected them and only ever let them out when they were summoned to shepherd confused elementals in the right direction... Why were there so many voices?--Talking over her as though she were a child. Was that how they saw her? And that woman’s voice, where had that come from? That had not been there before. The new woman had the same, comforting tones Diana had, and she tried hard, so hard, to hold onto that and fleeting memories of home -- Mother. Father knowing what I’m thinking. Twins singing. Dash’s lessons. Home. Home home home. -- that she forgot she had been spoken to. The back of someone’s hand stung the bare skin of Cheila’s shoulder and she started, ankles crossing in a stumble that was almost graceful as she tried to side-step away from the three men a short distance away from her.
Their laughter was a harsh noise that made her uncomfortable.
English, they were all speaking English now. She did know the language but he – where was he from to have an accent like that? All of them differing; she could not keep up. Easier to let the woman lead her to a room that was apparently hers, then drift off, wait for the sharp sting upon her cheek that told her she needed to get up. The lump in her throat would not leave, though. Like she had swallowed her own tongue and it had stuck there. Part of Cheila supposed that to be true after a fashion because she could not remember putting two words together since they had arrived.
No... She could not recall speaking for much longer than that.
Eyes closed tight, she lay curled up on her side. Her fingers traced over the tops of her feet where the skin had been rubbed rough from the times she couldn’t or wouldn’t walk on her own. She did not like to be dragged and pulled. If they had just asked… But no one asked for anything anymore. Permission was not needed. Feeling her lip tremble slightly, she bit down on it. No crying. She was one of the older sisters, she was supposed to be strong. That she was not with her family, but alone with three other women who she had never met before and then Him, the one who—it did not register. She would not let it.
It was so much easier, felt somehow safer to keep that disconnect. As though she was protecting them from Him.
His name was Rick. He was from Texas – they were in Texas, which was why she had had problems understanding what he said to her when she first arrived. Cheila could not remember when that was, but it was long enough for her to follow what little conversation he bothered engaging in. He did not bother much, having learned quickly that it was guaranteed to be a one-sided conversation. When he was in her line of sight, her tongue turned into a lead weight. Leaving herself physically incapable of saying ‘No’, she was his ‘no-fuss lay’, and for long enough she remained blissfully unaware of what the phrase even meant. She would spend hours letting the fire elemental girl do up her make-up and hair, always be fascinated by her reflection and then... Then he was all the cold, calloused hands of an immortalised farm-hand. They made Cheila feel sick, but with her head in the clouds she rarely remembered anything.
Always skin-tight plastic, the way he whistles, won’t let me go, wants to bite this time, scent of blood, won’t stop bleeding.
“Shit.” He sounded like he had just made a spelling error. Cheila just looked at him with a complete lack of understanding, frightened by the way the bite-wound on inside of her leg was almost trying to empty her out entirely. It was not at all comforting when he got up and left the room.
It was the first time he had chosen to bite her for months and this time it would not stop bleeding. Was she going to die? No; no, she could not die here. She had to get out and find her family first. She needed to leave -- and her eyes were welling up just in time for Rick to come back with someone she did not know. He was holding a little vial of red liquid. She knew what that was.
“No,” she managed, as she had done the only other time she was presented with vampire blood. “I don’t want it.”
“Then you’ll likely bleed to death,” stated the possible-doctor before turning to glare at Rick.
For a moment, Cheila looked between the two of them, confused and conflicted. Part of her did not believe she would bleed to death at all -- but then why would they lie about it? Did they know how many nights she had lain there, wide awake, and would have accepted a way out like this in a heartbeat? Were they testing her resolve? If they were then maybe their point had been proven, because she was torn between freeing herself of wherever she had wound up or instead making sure that she did indeed have a chance at getting home. But she wanted to be home so much and she was started to feel light headed.
“All of it?” She carefully took the little thing from fingers that had moved themselves closer to her in offering. The possible-doctor nodded. Rick was in the background on his phone. She popped the top off and emptied the contents into her mouth before her stomach could rebel at the idea. As the possible-doctor found a clean blanket to wrap her up in, Cheila’s mind raced and soared right from the there and then, though she still clamped her hands over her eyes and ears.
She didn’t want to see any more. She didn’t want to hear it either. No more sight, sounds, thoughts, feelings -- she needed to switch off. Disconnect. Which she could never do on vampire blood. She was so certain that he gave it to her deliberately; all of her was trapped there.