The thought is said only in his mind, as he's still far from returning to awareness of the waking world. There's no answer to that question, of course, and all he knows is that he's drifting somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.
But it hasn't been a particularly restful sleep either; instead, it's been full of fire and storms and an overpowering sense that everything is wrong. And although his still sleeping mind can't quite make sense of it, there's a great evil looming over all of it. He can't see its face, but somehow he knows that the dark being that he's seeing is both dangerous and powerful, and that it's because of this evil that he's in his current state.
He can't know how long it's been, but somehow, it seems to him that it's been many days since he has been awake and part of events as he ought to have been all along.
Still, it also seems that a page has been turned and he could rejoin the waking world if not for the feeling that something was still pulling him down and keeping him eyes that won't open and a form that won't rise.
There are voices around him; he can hear them, but he can't make sense of their words or of who they might belong to. Awareness is at the tips of his fingers; he just has to reach out and take it, if only he can find the strength to do so.
Finally, it happens slowly, so slowly that it's almost to the point of ridiculousness, but his eyes slit open and he's greeted by his first glimpses of light in a long time. His limbs feel heavy as if something that he can't see is weighing them down.
Why can't I move? The frantic thought pierces through some of the fog, but it does nothing to get him up and moving. Is this a trap? An orchestration of his enemies? He'd thrash if only he could, but all he can do is lie there and wait for something, anything to happen. ]
all aboard the h/c train
The thought is said only in his mind, as he's still far from returning to awareness of the waking world. There's no answer to that question, of course, and all he knows is that he's drifting somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.
But it hasn't been a particularly restful sleep either; instead, it's been full of fire and storms and an overpowering sense that everything is wrong. And although his still sleeping mind can't quite make sense of it, there's a great evil looming over all of it. He can't see its face, but somehow he knows that the dark being that he's seeing is both dangerous and powerful, and that it's because of this evil that he's in his current state.
He can't know how long it's been, but somehow, it seems to him that it's been many days since he has been awake and part of events as he ought to have been all along.
Still, it also seems that a page has been turned and he could rejoin the waking world if not for the feeling that something was still pulling him down and keeping him eyes that won't open and a form that won't rise.
There are voices around him; he can hear them, but he can't make sense of their words or of who they might belong to. Awareness is at the tips of his fingers; he just has to reach out and take it, if only he can find the strength to do so.
Finally, it happens slowly, so slowly that it's almost to the point of ridiculousness, but his eyes slit open and he's greeted by his first glimpses of light in a long time. His limbs feel heavy as if something that he can't see is weighing them down.
Why can't I move? The frantic thought pierces through some of the fog, but it does nothing to get him up and moving. Is this a trap? An orchestration of his enemies? He'd thrash if only he could, but all he can do is lie there and wait for something, anything to happen. ]