Once the darkness had claimed her Anastasia seemed to have found limbo, a moment of silent peace and tranquility among a most turbulent few days. Unknown to the angelic being that the sleep she'd granted her victim was the first proper rest she'd had ever since arriving here, the brunette never having gotten any more than a handful of hours of sleep at most. And when she got more, it was usually cut short by a series of nightmares haunting her subconscious; memories of times before her escape. If they weren't grievous or tormenting in nature they'd soon turn that way, whether she wished for it or not, and every time again she'd wake up grasping for things that weren't there, gasping for breath as if something had been choking her all that time.
Sadly for her, even this precious moment of tranquility would soon be disrupted with the thing she feared so badly.
The warm embrace of Medeia's arms would vanish entirely, a streak of cold air brushing past her bare back. It stirred the young woman, who frowned deeply as the cold persisted upon her back… that wasn't supposed to happen, she recalled putting on a tight-fitting shirt and air-resistant coat, so she shouldn't be feeling anything on her back. Opening her eyes brought her little more explanation, as the darkness around her settled in like a void. And then suddenly; a blinding flash of white light illuminating the void, followed by a hair-raising growl rolling past the edges of the twilight that bordered around the illuminated part of the void she now found herself in. The gravel and bench previously underneath her had disappeared, making way for cold, hard white tiles and the scent of sterile equipment penetrated her nostrils. It made her cough, and as she tried to cover her mouth found herself staring at scarred hands. Anastasia gasped in horror as she backed away, staring at the rest of her arms and body in disbelief. This wasn't Tsuna's body, nor were these the clothes she'd been wearing only moments ago. The tight, purple ropes too had vanished, instead replaced by iron chains and shackles clattering around her wrists. The all too familiar situation made her perk her ears; light-brown furry ears flat against her now pale, white hair. "Nonono, this can't be true…!"
A soft whimper escaped the brunette as she squirmed ever so softly in her binds, her face contorted in a fearful expression, while she silently whispered inaudible words. It would seem obvious to the other however that whatever was plaguing the young woman was all but pleasant.
Light flashed once more, and an additional part of the void suddenly lit up, revealing a cage with four shady individuals, their growls audible but their focus elsewhere than on the young woman near them. Instinctively Anastasia backed away further, banging her foot into a cart with equipment that toppled over, creating a loud echoing ruckus. The individuals turned, revealing rotting skin and horrible deformations, all different except the feral glare in their pupil-less eyes. They'd now taken note of their prey, who looked terrified as she tried to clamber over the mess she'd made. The poor girl tried to look for a way out, yet found that the void has suddenly created walls. No windows. No doors. Just her and the rotting, living corpses now snarling at her from across the room. Desperately her eyes searched above her, noticing the large glass section 20 feet above her, faceless shadows watching. The glass had been blurred so she couldn't see who was behind it, yet she didn't have to-- she knew who was watching her. Why they were watching her. "Please! Please, I beg you! Not again!" She pleaded, almost yelling, her voice pitching in panic. The same, dreaded click of something unlocking resonated through the room, and she turned back towards the living dead to see their cage had opened up, allowing for them to roam the room freely.
To hunt her, freely.
Time had passed after her first whimper, the brunette having grown silent and tranquil once more. Yet when the cold shifted, the young woman stirred once more, her hands clinging to the angel's body and clothes almost frantically as she started shivering. Even the warmth of Medeia's magic wouldn't help in lessening Anastasia's shivering, who instead tried to curl up even closer in her arms. Fear was the true reason of her shivering, she'd soon realise, not the cold. And this time, more audible whimpers continued. Understandable words, this time around. Begging. "...Stop… please…"
After which the young woman's clinging only intensified, a single tear rolling down her cheek before she sunk back into the silent torment of her nightmare. Slowly strands of her hair had started losing their color, until a good inch or three had turned stark white before it ceased.
They'd surrounded her by now, fresh cuts on her body stinging viciously as the infection tried to settle in but was rejected by her blood instead. Yet the undead feasted on its every drop. They'd grown more feral, had turned against each other in their greed for it, and the strongest survivor now held her down among the rubble, holding her arm in an iron grip as it bared its fangs. Anastasia tried to fight, pounding on its head with anything within reach, even her fists, yet it did not feel fased at all. Pulling her arm in an attempt to free it, yet the zombie's grip didn't lessen in the slightest, instead dragging her closer. She was crying now, manic tears coursing down her face as she thrashed about, all to no avail. She knew how this would end. How she would never be able to escape this torment unless someone saved her from it. Her screams had died down into frantic whimpers as she made peace with her fate, and the sharp teeth that would add their mark to many scars already present on her arms.
Anastasia woke up with a start, jolting upright while trying to grasp for something in the air above her. Her face was wet with tears, eyes blood-red from all the crying she'd done in her sleep, and she only realised she'd yelled something upon awakening when she swallowed afterwards, only resulting in more soreness in her throat. Fearfully she tried to look around her, her sight too blurry to see any details in the room around her, yet it dawned upon her just as quickly that this wasn't the white, sterile room from her dream. Here, wherever "here" was, was warmer. Purples and reds instead of whites, warmth instead of cold, and a homely scent rather than disinfectant. Anastasia coughed as her irregular breathing tried to settle down, her chest still heaving violently as she quickly looked back and forth, looking for something. Someone.
She hated these nightmares, and hated being alone after having them even more.Wordcount: