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tamingthemuseTitle: Possessed By the Storm
Author/Artist: Micolai Ranger
Fandom: Original
Rating: R for strong language
Worksafe?: Yes
Genre/s: Fantasy
Words: 1,195
Summary: When she awakes to find herself bound and drugged, Sirenlee's mind tries to remember just how she got there and what may be in store for her now, wherever she is?
A/N: This is my first story here. I hope I'm doing this right.
A/N-2: I have not changed any content, I just wanted to add here that this is a section of a longer fic, hence the mild plot and characterization. I hope this edit is allowed.
She felt the cold hardness of stone beneath her back and against her skin, icy and unyielding where it met her bare flesh. She could feel cool air above her, presumably from a fan high overhead, the wind of which whipped her gently yet firmly into wakefulness. As her mind ascended slowly through the layers of unconsciousness, she became aware of the fact that her wrists were bound before her by what felt to be steel cuffs, between which ran a heavy chain that lay slack along her leg and attached to a pair of shackles closely fitted about her slender ankles. However, this knowledge which should have terrified her did nothing but incite a deep curiosity as to why she had been confined so.
Her mind began to try to piece together what had happened to her, but she could remember very little while her brain was so fogged. Sluggishly, she realized she must have been drugged, for she could not ever remember having such difficulty gathering her thoughts. Vaguely, she recalled she had been jogging along the dirt path which led up from the parking lot to the rear entrance of the Cultural Arts building of the university she attended. She had been late for her 9:00 class on anthropology and she knew her professor would not be pleased. It had been the third time this week she had been late to his class.
As she ran, she reached behind her with both hands, fingers fumbling blindly with the open zipper of the backpack she wore. Swaying as she hit a gentle downward slope on the path, one arm flew out to her right, attempting to steady herself before she tumbled over the crest of the rocky hill, which led back into the lot. As her feet slid against the slippery dirt, she abandoned the resealing of her pack, her other arm shooting out until she was sliding and swaying like some amateur puppeteer's poor version of a prima ballerina.
Suddenly, and with a cry of astonished fear, she felt a loop of something firm and unyielding descend from somewhere above her, slipping along her body as she was jerked cruelly upward. She cried out in pain as it was snugly, harshly pressed into the soft flesh of her underarms. Her head tossing from side to side, she could do nothing but scream as she felt her feet leave the ground. Twisting and swinging wildly above the rapidly receding earth, supported only by the slender cord which bound her, the girl loosed her wild cries into the wind, terrified, knowing deep in her heart they would not, could not be heard.
Throwing her head back, her eyes scanned the sky above her, wildly seeking a glimpse of the person who held her captive. She could see nothing. She craned her neck, throwing her weight against the cord which bound her so as to force it to move in directions she wished it to, but still not a soul could she spot. She was, for all intense and purposes, held captive by something invisible, something greater than a human hand. And this, more than anything caused the panic that was simmering close to the surface to boil over in a wave of petrified terror so profound she could do nothing but quake and weep. Her lips were frozen together, the screams she longed to release caught in the back of her throat as her streaming eyes gazed hopelessly down at the speck beneath her, which she had stood on but moments before. Little did she know, she would never set foot upon that time's ground again.
Even as the fear threatened to utterly obliviate everything else from her awareness, she still had the presence of mind to puzzle as to why, so high up as she was, she could still breathe as perfectly and easily as if she were, even now, standing upon the ground. However, she would never be granted the time to wonder over this enigma, for at that precise moment, the sky around her began to darken rapidly and the sounds of the wind began to change.
Twisting helplessly in her bonds, she managed with much kicking and flailing to turn toward the source of the darkness. What she saw freed her from her petrified state, sending her mind over an unseen precipice into total and hysterical terror. Before her, sinister and dark, gaping and violent swirled the mouth of the largest storm she had ever seen. And she was being drawn directly toward it.
"No! No! No!" she screamed, sobbing hysterically. "Help! Please, someone! Help me!"
Her pleas were pointless. She knew this, and yet the fear that gripped her was all-consuming. When the brain knows its host is helpless and in danger, its last resort is to command the mouth to scream. Useless? Yes. But what else can a body do, for it is against human nature to but sit idly by and allow itself to be harmed without fighting back with everything it has. If all it possesses are the wild screams of a soul caught in a paroxysm of fright, then, pointless as it may be, that single, solitary weapon will be used.
"Do not move, and do not be afraid."
She froze. The voice had seemed to echo over vast distances, but it had come from the storm. The fucking storm was talking to her. Darkness encroached upon the edges of her vision as her mind began to shut down under the horror of what was happening to her. Her body trembled uncontrollably and as she felt herself sucked fiercely into the merciless ferocity of the storm, her world went black and she knew no more.
As her mind slowly began to remember, she felt a spasm of detached fear. However, even as she began to tremble, the sensation was overridden by the soothing effects of whatever she had been given and the terror which tried to seize her was subdued once more. With a soft groan, she attempted to roll over but found her limbs so heavy and unresponsive she could do little more than twitch, and even that only with considerable effort.
"Do not move."
The voice was so unexpected that even in her present state, it caused the bound girl to start in surprise. She tried to open her mouth to speak, to demand answers, but found that, just as her limbs, her lips felt like they were weighed down by boulders. Even her tongue felt limp and sluggish where it rested motionless against her teeth.
"Do not try and speak. The drug will weigh upon you for some time to come, Sirenlee."
The girl started inwardly, trying to gather her thoughts together long enough to focus on the voice speaking to her. It sounded so familiar and yet so strange. Even as she tried however, that soothing wave washed over her once more, effectively rendering her thoughts just as sleepy and scattered as before.
Sleep, she thought to herself. I think I shall just close my eyes and sleep.
"A very wise idea," the voice agreed softly. "Welcome to the future, slave."
Author/Artist: Micolai Ranger
Fandom: Original
Rating: R for strong language
Worksafe?: Yes
Genre/s: Fantasy
Words: 1,195
Summary: When she awakes to find herself bound and drugged, Sirenlee's mind tries to remember just how she got there and what may be in store for her now, wherever she is?
A/N: This is my first story here. I hope I'm doing this right.
A/N-2: I have not changed any content, I just wanted to add here that this is a section of a longer fic, hence the mild plot and characterization. I hope this edit is allowed.
She felt the cold hardness of stone beneath her back and against her skin, icy and unyielding where it met her bare flesh. She could feel cool air above her, presumably from a fan high overhead, the wind of which whipped her gently yet firmly into wakefulness. As her mind ascended slowly through the layers of unconsciousness, she became aware of the fact that her wrists were bound before her by what felt to be steel cuffs, between which ran a heavy chain that lay slack along her leg and attached to a pair of shackles closely fitted about her slender ankles. However, this knowledge which should have terrified her did nothing but incite a deep curiosity as to why she had been confined so.
Her mind began to try to piece together what had happened to her, but she could remember very little while her brain was so fogged. Sluggishly, she realized she must have been drugged, for she could not ever remember having such difficulty gathering her thoughts. Vaguely, she recalled she had been jogging along the dirt path which led up from the parking lot to the rear entrance of the Cultural Arts building of the university she attended. She had been late for her 9:00 class on anthropology and she knew her professor would not be pleased. It had been the third time this week she had been late to his class.
As she ran, she reached behind her with both hands, fingers fumbling blindly with the open zipper of the backpack she wore. Swaying as she hit a gentle downward slope on the path, one arm flew out to her right, attempting to steady herself before she tumbled over the crest of the rocky hill, which led back into the lot. As her feet slid against the slippery dirt, she abandoned the resealing of her pack, her other arm shooting out until she was sliding and swaying like some amateur puppeteer's poor version of a prima ballerina.
Suddenly, and with a cry of astonished fear, she felt a loop of something firm and unyielding descend from somewhere above her, slipping along her body as she was jerked cruelly upward. She cried out in pain as it was snugly, harshly pressed into the soft flesh of her underarms. Her head tossing from side to side, she could do nothing but scream as she felt her feet leave the ground. Twisting and swinging wildly above the rapidly receding earth, supported only by the slender cord which bound her, the girl loosed her wild cries into the wind, terrified, knowing deep in her heart they would not, could not be heard.
Throwing her head back, her eyes scanned the sky above her, wildly seeking a glimpse of the person who held her captive. She could see nothing. She craned her neck, throwing her weight against the cord which bound her so as to force it to move in directions she wished it to, but still not a soul could she spot. She was, for all intense and purposes, held captive by something invisible, something greater than a human hand. And this, more than anything caused the panic that was simmering close to the surface to boil over in a wave of petrified terror so profound she could do nothing but quake and weep. Her lips were frozen together, the screams she longed to release caught in the back of her throat as her streaming eyes gazed hopelessly down at the speck beneath her, which she had stood on but moments before. Little did she know, she would never set foot upon that time's ground again.
Even as the fear threatened to utterly obliviate everything else from her awareness, she still had the presence of mind to puzzle as to why, so high up as she was, she could still breathe as perfectly and easily as if she were, even now, standing upon the ground. However, she would never be granted the time to wonder over this enigma, for at that precise moment, the sky around her began to darken rapidly and the sounds of the wind began to change.
Twisting helplessly in her bonds, she managed with much kicking and flailing to turn toward the source of the darkness. What she saw freed her from her petrified state, sending her mind over an unseen precipice into total and hysterical terror. Before her, sinister and dark, gaping and violent swirled the mouth of the largest storm she had ever seen. And she was being drawn directly toward it.
"No! No! No!" she screamed, sobbing hysterically. "Help! Please, someone! Help me!"
Her pleas were pointless. She knew this, and yet the fear that gripped her was all-consuming. When the brain knows its host is helpless and in danger, its last resort is to command the mouth to scream. Useless? Yes. But what else can a body do, for it is against human nature to but sit idly by and allow itself to be harmed without fighting back with everything it has. If all it possesses are the wild screams of a soul caught in a paroxysm of fright, then, pointless as it may be, that single, solitary weapon will be used.
"Do not move, and do not be afraid."
She froze. The voice had seemed to echo over vast distances, but it had come from the storm. The fucking storm was talking to her. Darkness encroached upon the edges of her vision as her mind began to shut down under the horror of what was happening to her. Her body trembled uncontrollably and as she felt herself sucked fiercely into the merciless ferocity of the storm, her world went black and she knew no more.
As her mind slowly began to remember, she felt a spasm of detached fear. However, even as she began to tremble, the sensation was overridden by the soothing effects of whatever she had been given and the terror which tried to seize her was subdued once more. With a soft groan, she attempted to roll over but found her limbs so heavy and unresponsive she could do little more than twitch, and even that only with considerable effort.
"Do not move."
The voice was so unexpected that even in her present state, it caused the bound girl to start in surprise. She tried to open her mouth to speak, to demand answers, but found that, just as her limbs, her lips felt like they were weighed down by boulders. Even her tongue felt limp and sluggish where it rested motionless against her teeth.
"Do not try and speak. The drug will weigh upon you for some time to come, Sirenlee."
The girl started inwardly, trying to gather her thoughts together long enough to focus on the voice speaking to her. It sounded so familiar and yet so strange. Even as she tried however, that soothing wave washed over her once more, effectively rendering her thoughts just as sleepy and scattered as before.
Sleep, she thought to herself. I think I shall just close my eyes and sleep.
"A very wise idea," the voice agreed softly. "Welcome to the future, slave."
