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>>106160 ]
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My head hurts.
I return to the living waking conscious world slowly, in a haze of pain.
I try to reach up, to rub my head, to hold it, to clutch it--
Oh.
Of course.
I can't move my arms. I can't move my legs. I can sort of move my head, but I get dizzy when I try. Maybe let that sit a while.
It's not like I'm going to be going anywhere anytime soon.
My wrists and arms and legs and feet are all strapped tightly down, fastening me to a wooden plank. Arms slightly out, legs slightly out.
I still have yet to open my eyes.
I don't need them yet. I already know where I am.
Up and up and up and up and down beneath.
In the hall of the Mountain queen.
I don't hear the green girl, yet. She's probably busy taking care of something while she waits for me to wake up.
She's got all the time in the world, after all.
I carefully open my eyes. Slowly, because shit shit ow argh fuck
As expected, it hurts.
Brightness pounds and pounds and ow
Slowly I acclimate myself to the sunlight pouring in through the vent that's way brighter than any sunlight has a right to be.
The room is the same as it usually is. Tall, beautiful, attractive cabinet. Stone walls. Stone floor. Large, thick wooden door; western, with hinges. Merrily roaring fireplace to keep the place warm. Electric lights (off). Bright bright light vent. A few boxes. A chair with wheels. A few trays. A tool chest.
The wooden table.
Me, naked.
The drains in the floor.
All the sights and things that make up what has become my own personal hell.
Only one thing is missing, and I hear her coming now.
Soft footsteps on indoor slippers. Happy humming.
In walks the green girl, singing something softly along with the music that can't be heard on the white electric shingle, slipped into one pocket of her robes. She flashes me a dazzling smile, and reaches into the pocket that the ear-seeking tentacles emanate from.
"Rise and shine, my little runaway!"
It's always chitchat at the start.
Catching up on old times, almost. She's the only one who really does much speaking, though. It doesn't seem to bother her too much.
At this point, anyway.
The green girl pulls out the tentacles from her ears with one hand and drags a rolling table-- more like a tray on a sturdy stand-- next to me. She crams the tentacles into the pocket with the electric shingle, and then goes over to the beautiful cabinet and opens it up, pulling out a green wine bottle
Western wine from outside and not sake; the foreign words on the side gives it away, a tall long thin-sort-of wine glass, a spoon, a finely serrated knife, and a boning knife.
She sets these down on the tray, and without warning, hops up onto the table with me. More specifically, she hops up
onto me, landing on my stomach.
I let out a yelp of pain as the wind is knocked out of me. The green girl closes her eyes and giggles softly, lifting a hand to her lips.
Then she sighs happily and sits up, seating herself upon me like a bench. Puling out the cork, she opens the bottle, pours some into the tall thin glass, and sets it aside, putting the spoon into the bottle, handle-first. Crossing her legs, she takes a long sip, then looks down at me.
"So, my little runaway... I see you've been a veeeery busy little bee, lately. Even getting a job like a
real person! I'm so proud of you, you know. Even if it was just a sham. Even if it was a lie... Even if you tricked and deceived those poor poltergeists into believing you were an oni..."
Another long drink.
...She doesn't know that-- ahaha. At least there's that. They should be safe.
That won't be haunting me.
The green girl looks down at me again.
Down down beneath her is where I am she wants.
"But you were very clever, I'll give you that. Why, if I hadn't wanted to touch those
cute little fake horns of yours, I wouldn't have known it was you, and we could have gone on for days and days and days and
daaaaaays~..."
The glass is drained, and she goes to refill it. It's only at the halfway point when it stops pouring out.
"...Ahh, out already? What a shame."
A slight pause, and then she looks at me, and titters.
"Out already, my little runaway... Unlike you, just yet."
The green girl tosses back the entire contents of the glass, and sets it back down on the tray. She hops off of me, pats me on the head, and smiles brightly.
"Well, no time to get started like the present!"
She puts the tentacles back in her ears, and kicks a switch by the base of the table, tilting it over to one side, leaving me almost standing upright, if not for the straps.
Picking up the wine bottle, my host looks at it---
Sideways: MO (The rest is covered by her hand)
And the rest of the label is partially hidden from this angle:
Curving: AMPAGNE
A funny little hat, and below, in larger letters & CHANDON
In smaller letters: T IMPERIAL
--and hefts it like a club. She looks me over, as if inspecting me, or checking for something, before nodding to herself. And with that, she rams the bottom of it into my gut, eliciting another exclamation of pain from me.
She begins to hum with her music as she strikes me with the bottle, again in the stomach, only swung, this time. A blinding flash, then more pain as it impacts my right temple.
And still, the most kind, friendly, loving smile ever.
It shatters, this time, right across the forehead. She winks at me and giggles.
"I did that on purpose, you know. I saw this in a movie once, and I always wondered if it was really effective."
She looks at the circle of jagged, sharp, broken glass, and says, cheerily, "Let's find out!"
Cold claws of glass slash across my breasts, slicing into me. I cry out, again.
My head hurts.
My chest hurts.
I hurt.
"Hmm... maybe it's better for stabbing?"
Two sharp, fierce, painful plunges, and those cold, green, wet claws sink deep into me, and I scream.
The blood flows down my body and this is only the beginning and she jabs it into me again, giggling, and it hurts god it hurts and I want to go away and she won't let me it hurts so much
[ ] Elephant memory
[ ] Ostrich defense
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>>106156 You really should. At least click on the last song of the concert (
>>105933 ) for cruel irony.
Also, reposting "Goodnight Moon," by Shivaree:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dHYDFClkqHw This was the song that inspired me, so many nights ago, to write this story.
For optimal experience, wait until it's late at night, and then reread the first thread (
>>94836 ) as you listen to it.
I'm reposting it since as far as I can tell (from the number of comments, which is about all I have to measure by) only three of you actually saw the update in the old thread.
>>106144 No.
No, it is not.
And it never will be.
The fuck is that shit, anyway?
>>106140 Right source, different song.
>>106121 Please, elaborate.