Demon's Paradise / 2

2

She's thirsty. Emilia feels a yearning for water in the blackness, and so, she opens her eyes to the dim room. The fatigue of sleep still lingers over her, a general aching over her body. Johan lightly snores beside her.

A chill over her naked face makes her hesitate about getting up from the warm comfort of her blankets. But her thirst eventually makes her shuffle out of her sheets. She scuffles in the dark for the bunny slippers beside her mattress, and after she slips them on her bare feet, she feels a little more comforted about getting water. Behind the door, a faint light is shining through the cracks. She tip-toes over, not wanting to interrupt their wonderful dreaming.

The hallway seems very different, so late at night, as if there is an unnatural feeling in the dim chandelier light. What time is it--? She forgot to glance at the clock-- oh, there's one by the wall. It's around 3:30.

She slowly heads down the rocco hall, allowing her senses to absorb the decor – the wax figurines on the stands, and the full body armours of warriors long gone. Would she be able to fit inside them? They look weighty. It's strange how she only really notices these things in a time like this; sleep-deprived, alone, in the dark.

Clambering down the spiral staircase, she feels the smooth balustrade over her fingertips. It's really chilly – she can almost see her breath. She wishes she could have brought along her nightrobe with her.

Where is the kitchen? She's forgotten where these hallways lead, the way they look so eerie, like in a historical museum where they immerse you in a given setting.

I wonder where the maids are..

The thought comes to look for a light switch. Emilia sees a faint green glow by one of the walls, and she inches towards it, her fingers exploring the contours. It's a dimmer. She slides the switch up and makes the halls showered in that evening light once more.

~

In the kitchen, Emilia picks up an empty glass atop the counter, and pours herself a drink from the water pitcher. As she is about to gulp down the water, she starts to feel a strange tingle in the hand holding the glass and her legs.

She manages to drink the water anyway, and the first thing she feels is how icy the water is in her mouth, feeling especially fulfilling down her throat.

She wants more.

She pours herself another glass, and a little water drips from her lips, down her chin it rains and when she breathes out, icy vapour jets from her nostrils.

She goes to put the glass in the sink. It doesn't come off her hand. It has become crystalline; and when she tries peeling it off with her other hand, it feels so unbearably cold she yelps.

But the hand holding it doesn't feel anything.

An uncanny, unvoiceable fear shoots through Emilia and she desperately tries shaking away the glued cup from her hand, to no avail. She slams the glass upon the counter's edge until it breaks into a thousand pieces, which clatter onto the linoleum floor.

Something's wrong. Under the florescent lighting, she sees her entire arm is white with frost-- her heart thumping, she staggers to the sink, hoping to indulge her arm with hot water. Foisting her arm in the empty basin (she feels absolutely nothing, it's like a statue), she tries pouring water from the tap, and when the stream hits her arm it hisses, turning into billowing mist. Like wintery air as it dissolves around her arm.

"Help--!" she moans.

When the faucet stops running, the basin is littered with a layer of ice – her arm seems irretrivably stuck in it.

Emilia begins to sob. This isn't even happening. She's stuck, hunched over the icy sink.

"Help me!" she screams, pouring all her effort into her voice. "Someone! Anyone!?"

Alors, the only thing which seems to answer is the hum of the fridge. The hum gradually seems to grow louder. And louder. Almost rattling the very air.

Then in the sink the ice and frost begin to spread, very gradually yet certainly – up the stainless steel. Up her trapped arm. It's so cold.

She has to escape.

She holds her legs against the counter and strains herself pushing back against it. At first it seems like her arm will never give (a painless, numbed tugging on her shoulder), but one more push and--

Clink! She tumbles hard on her back, seeing the counter above her like a building. The frost is going beyond the sink – it's pouring over the edge.

Emilia glances at the stump on her shoulder, where her arm had once been. Now she knows what amputees feel like. But there's no time to mope; she tries getting up with her one remaining arm, fumbling on the floor, before managing to stand and start running.

It feels awkward to move with only one arm.

She runs through the abyssal halls, her footsteps mute and desperate over the floor, her panting breath making her lungs burn. She finds the staircase where she clambers up. Midway through, she has to stop. The stairs seem to spin-- she is feeling inexplicably dizzy.

The dizziness won't go away, even when she manages to get to the upper floor. Instead, it has become a stunning headache, a soreness in her mind that makes her lose her sense of orientation. She wonders if this is even a hallway, or if she's wandered somehow into a forest, holding lost dreams and memories.

No--! She has to keep focus. Get to Johan and (what is the other guy's name?) Dietrich, fast! She runs to where the room is – she swears the suits of armours look like gargoyles.

"Emilia?"

The light inside the room's already on.

"Emilia?!"

The door handle is hard to turn.

"Oh no, Emilia!!"

She opens the door. There, Johan and Dietrich are already up – kneeling over her cot.

"Dietrich!" Johan shouts. "Call somebody! A doctor!"

There, Emilia sees herself, lying unnaturally open-eyed with foam coming out of her mouth. She wordlessly reaches out to herself, stumbling forward on weak legs, but all she sees are icy tendrils curling like vines from her shoulder.