• //Fade.|

    Mists swirled in a blinding madness before her, leaving her dazed and numb to the crazed rush about her. The roar of rushing water drowned out any thought she tried to conceive. The heavy concentration of water in the air left her gasping for breath, making her choke and gag as she struggled for enough oxygen to fully revive herself. The ground lay ice cold beneath her bare skin, a faint ticking was the only sound strong enough to pierce the raging stream. The sun was a staggering white blaze, flushing out everything else in her field of vision. A tremor ran down her spine as the slightest hint of agony struck her. She cried out when it repeated itself, over and over blacking out all other factors of her surreal reality. She felt horribly naked and defenseless where she lay. Weakly she tried to think back to the place where she had last fell. Her eyes strained to see past the blinding white sun as a single memory was recalled, the blunt force of something hitting her full in the face.
    The memory was followed by something else, a staggering bout of realization. That ticking was a heart monitor, the cold ground an iron table, the sun an examination light, and the raging water her blood. She jerked as she tried to move, to run, and found herself restrained and unable to so much as budge an inch. Fear coursed through her veins as her eyes widened and instinctually adjusted to the light, it only furthered her fear. From her tiny field of vision she could see three thick cords running out of her chest, two out of her vision, the other running straight to a tank. It was pumping out blood, her blood. Mindless panic took over as the surrealism of the situation blinded her logic. She was being drained!
    Her heart rate skyrocketed, and the monitor sung a beat too fast for ears as she started to hyperventilate. She thrashed in her bonds as an alarm started shrieking, sending out a blaring red strobe light that only served to further her panic. The table grew sticky beneath her as she started to perspire, her body struck into overdrive, panic trying to force the body to flee when there was no where to run. Her eyes darted about in a mad whirl, fiercely hoping to find some small escape all the while her mind tried to run from the situation.
    The monitor skipped a beat as a hissing filled the room, sprayers filled the air with a drug of some sort, she already started to feel the effects as her muscles sagged in the restraints. Her eyes rolled about out of her control as footsteps echoed off the blank walls of the room as a door slammed open.
    Her eyes widened in fear as a man rushed in, his face hidden by goggles and a gas mask, but it did little to hide his muffled curse. “Crap.”
    Her eyes slid shut as more people joined the first, clouding her dark haven with a jumbled mess of voices, none of which registered in her mind.
    Eva! Eva, wake up!
    One of the people stepped forward and touched her, his ice cold touch made her jump. A mans voice registered in her mind as her eyes opened, finding a man shouting at her and shaking her violently. She blinked madly, rather stunned by the sudden change of realities as she tried to grasp on to what was really happening. His touch shocked her to the core with its frigid grasp, but it was nothing compared to the images that had flooded her mind.
    Her body shuddered instinctively, trying to rid itself of the wretched. Her hands flew up to cup her ears in an attempt to block out the flood of curses and insults the man was shouting at her, it did little but at least it let her think. Her breathing smoothed out as her memories flooded back to her and she realized she had no memory of the event. She sighed and leaned back, suddenly forgetting the mans presence. “Just a dream….”
    The mans curses stopped short suddenly to be replaced with a simple “What?”
    With a bit of effort she turned to glare at him, snapping out a quiet command in her tongue. “Urusei!”
    He blinked, not entirely sure as to what she had said, but enraged none the least. “Excuse me? Just who do you-“
    “Elias,” she hissed his name like it was a horrible thing, “Just shut up for a bit, I’m really not in the mood for your restless bickering.” She turned from him and got out of bed on unsteady, wobbly legs.
    “Not in the mood?” He snorted. “Well no ~ Sherlock. “Not surprising when I run in here to find you having some kind of seizure.”
    Again she turned to glare at him, this time her eyes flickered red. “I did not have a seizure. It was simply a bad dream, there’s no need for idiots like you to go and start stretching truth.” She turned and strode off in an attempt at high fashion, only to stumble and nearly fall on her face.
    He watched her slam the door to the bathroom and chuckled. “Suuureee.”
    The door shook behind her as she stormed to the sink. She snarled at her reflection as her face was mirrored with bright red cheeks she had not had a seizure…She glanced down at her hands, frowning as she noted the trembling weak muscles and unsteadiness. Had she? Her eyes closed in a smooth breath as she struggled to calm herself. She kept telling herself that it hadn’t happened, that it really had been such a dream, she had had it several times before, but it still seemed so real… Her eyes opened to stare at the pale white porcelain that flowed as her skin, in the dream her blood always ran red, but fairies had silver blood...
    Her hands trembled as she slid open a drawer and pulled out a slim case of razor blades. Her lips dipped down in frustration as she fought to quell the trembling, she barely managed to keep steady as she drew out a single blade, staying very careful as she turned it in her palm. Her lips twitched in a slight smile as she fought the rather faerie-ish urge to delight in its metallic shimmer.
    Her breathing seemed to amplify in the tiny space as she raised the blade and drew back a sleeve, revealing a scared wrist. She bit her lip as the blade sunk into her flesh, sighing softly as it came out dripping silver. Her blood still ran silver, not the horrid mortal red she had seen in the dream. Truly just a nightmare… She cried out in fear as her legs buckled beneath her and she threatened to go down as the door swung open behind her, Nicholas strode in tall and daunting, claiming the space with a terrible sense of dominance, almost intimidating in his newest trend of Victorian black. His lips stayed in a tight line as he caught sight of her trembling form, without a sound he walked over and grabbed her wrist and calmly thrust it into the light, he hissed softly at the slowly bleeding wound. “Again my dear?” His normally emotionless voice held a slight hint of sorrow as he watched it slowly heal. She almost swore she saw his eyes glisten as he stared down at her scarred arm.
    Her eyes met his with hesitancy as she jerked her hand back and covered it with the other. Her posture changed to one slightly more submissive, he was the Clans alpha after all, and tried to explain her self as he stepped back and ran a calm hand through his hair. “It was the dream again Nic… Don’t get mad… I’m sorry…” The air grew tense as his arm dropped and he sighed. Her eyes left his as he leaned in and cupped her face. She flushed and looked away. “I just…” Her voice faded out as she lost her courage.
    “My dear, I’ve told you time and time again, it’s impossible for you to ever have red blood, you’re just not chemically compatible. You know that.” He drew her into a hug and held her tenderly. “My silly girl,” He murmured into her hair, “you’re going to end up killing yourself with these idiotic little fears. You must get over them.” His grip tightened when a single tear slid down her cheek.
    She sniffled, failing at hiding her sudden insecurities. “But Nicholas… It just seems so real…. It’s frightful…Maybe if you saw… If you knew…”
    “No, Shush my child, it’s just a dream. There’s nothing more to it.” They stood for several minutes in a silent embrace before breaking up and going separate ways. His voice called over his shoulder as he walked out of the room. “Hurry up and come downstairs Evange, we’re having a meeting.” For a minute she huddle in on herself, standing in the dark little bathroom alone, his last words washing over her and filling her with a sense of dread, meetings only ever ensured something wrong had gone awry.
    She sighed as the door shut again and she was left completely alone. She turned to the mirror as she rubbed at the now almost-healed cut. She stared intently at her reflection, her glare never faltering as she tried to recall the details of the dream, and found nothing. After a few silent minutes her stoic face split into a grin as she laughed and bounced out of the bathroom, intent on dressing up for the day. After all, it had only been a nightmare, weren’t those signs of a good week ahead? Her head was filled with optimistic ideas of how to spend it as all signs of the wretched dream were swallowed up and whisked away.
    Just a dream….