[ interquel to hideaway and runaway. ]
"s-stop, please!"
"she's screaming, you know."
"..."
"her cries, she's begging for me not to touch you."
"shut up! stop it!"
"you know, i bet this is what you wanted, michael wheeler."
"l-let go of me, help! he...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
➵
THERE'S A SHRIEK THAT RUMBLED from the pit of her shattered limbs and aching organs, the unfamiliarity and uneasiness forced her eyes to smart the more that Claudia blinked her eyes as if that would wake her up, get her out of wherever she was now.
Because...well, she definitely wasn't tied up in the Russian room that she remembered last time when Reality was her presence.
But instead...what the fuck?
Where was she?
There's nothing that her eyes can grasp onto. Well- maybe except for the fact that she remembered only what felt like a couple of seconds ago that she was standing outside of Brimborn Steel Works when the Mind Flayer had full control of her soul, and now she was confiscated inside of the steel mill. But other than that, there was nothing. Nothing that the light can touch and create the most significant amount of colours that one's individual eyes could possibly meet with a pure heart yet unappreciated vision. There's absolutely no distinct nor intimate smell that could burn the inner walls of her nose, especially with all the putrid pong that was far too excessive for such youthful nostrils; like chemicals in a janitor's closet or, Hell, even a garbage bin that overflowed with gunk and maggots.
Claudia wanted to throw up, erase any kind of Upside Down and torture that suctioned off her innocence like it was some kind of feast hosted by a King and Queen. Claudia wanted to wash her mouth out with soap from how much of the disgust that radiated up her throat. She even brought her numb fingers up to her eyes and rubbed and rubbed and rubbed because she wanted to unsee the seen. Only when she rubbed her eyes furiously, the answer Claudia received was nothing; she was still laying down in a black sort of abyss.
Frustration printed her lungs and she flared up, her brows furrowed and knotted when she propped her legs up just so she could be standing now, staring out into the distance of void. White noise ran through the brunette's ears and the thumps that echoed from her heart crated a soft beat to the unchoreographed choir and it only confused the girl more when her fingers danced among the strands of greasy hair. So, Claudia came to the conclusion that doing the only thing that every character in a horror movie would do was her last option.
She yelled.
"Hello?!" It was as if she'd just come out of War; her throat clogged up with guilt and it was so dried out that the Runaway's only source of water was her god damn saliva, and yet, there wasn't much of that either. Which led to the dreadful moment of cracked lips, and Claudia only licked them about every two times that she inhaled. But what only upset the teenager more was the absence of any other kind of living thing that could've replied to her and Claudia should've been used to this by now. Should've been used to the fact that she ran off from home for two years and befriended the nostalgic memories that hugged her tears away from her cheeks. Should've been used to the fact that she...she doesn't have her mother, nor a loving father.
