Late Night [Open] Feb 9, 2019 6:06:09 GMT
Post by Annalise Thergo on Feb 9, 2019 6:06:09 GMT
White flecks drifted from the grey sky and accumulated on the ground. The snow was a fine powder and peppered her boots as she took a stroll down the icy road away from the R.V. park. It was a nice enough place, not that she sought luxuries at a park. It had 50 amps, access to water and sewage, plenty of space in between neighbors, and a stable internet connection. She had to stop in this town to gain access to a post office to ship out her next batch of jewelry and garnets, and with that final step completed, she decided to take some time for herself to get something to eat.
Annalise ducked her head down when a gust of wind blew a cluster of powder at her face, and her brow pinched together in thought. It had been like this all those years ago when Eliza snuck her out of the lab. It was snowing, and Annalise stood there, ankle deep in the freezing substance, and gazed at the sky with child-like wonder in spite of the hell she escaped moments prior. She remembered how her bare feet and hands burned, but she longed to roll about in that powder until her skin went numb. It was the first time she felt the euphoria of true freedom, and Eliza allowed her to have those precious moments before whisking her away to her car and into the new life.
Annalise, Project 5 at that time, had never seen snow before that, having read about it only in her books that Eliza gifted her for good behavior. Dr. Heisenberg was finicky about what she was allowed to have, but strangely enough, he had no qualms with her reading H.P. Lovecraft. Annalise drew in a lungful of the stinging, icy air, exhaled slowly, and dismissed all thoughts of that madman from her mind. The actions of a dead man of his standing were not worth the time.
His grasp was dust by now, and he would only haunt her in memories.
“Memories and possibilities are even more hideous than realities.”
The woman sighed through her nose, brought her scarf up until it covered half her face, and she fished out her cellphone. It was wrapped with a white cord, ending in a set of earbuds, which she promptly shoved into her ears to resume listening to, "At the Mountain of Madness." It was bizarre that a source of her affliction back at that lab became a comfort when the thought of the doctor hovered within the back of her mind. Her younger, inexperienced self saw the old ones and the tales of the unfortunate, maddened narrators as a fairytale, an example of what did not exist while she lived in a lab where monstrosities were being brought into the light. No matter what she would see, nothing could be worse than the scurrying of rats in the walls, the undead rising and crying out in the night, indescribable creatures at a mountain, and a lurking fear.
Little did she know...
Eliza had convinced her countless times that these were all tricks of her overactive mind. She was not there when she fell through the cosmos and stood face-to-face with a being comprised of many eyes. She was not there when she felt so small and meaningless--
None of us, I imagine, slept very heavily or continuously that morning; for both the excitement of Lake’s discovery and the mounting fury of the wind were against such a thing. So savage was the blast, even where we were, that we could not help wondering how much worse it was at Lake’s camp, directly under the vast unknown peaks that bred and delivered it.
Annalise was jolted out of her reminiscence when the audiobook picked up where she had left off. She quietly swore under her breath, pulled her hood up, stopped at a crosswalk, looked both ways, and walked across towards a cluster of lights and buildings. She could smell fried and baked foods in the air. That would improve the evening.