Being on the fortieth floor, Fallon thought it very strange that she could hear music. While her balcony door was slightly ajar, for fresh air, and to prevent her from feeling entombed, she was much too high to be catching the sound of anyones radio. And then it dawned on her that it must be coming from a neighboring room. She almost smacked herself in the forehead, so silly had her thoughts been.
But as quickly as those thoughts had popped into her head, they were slammed out when she remembered her dream, and her head jerked towards the mirror. A huge sigh of relief escaped between her lips as a slightly disheveled Fallon stared back. And while she was not the epitome of health, by any means, she didn't appear to be on deaths doorstep either.
Collapsing back onto the bed, Fallon closed her eyes and listened to the music. It became apparent it was being played live, and somewhere nearby. It was too consistent and lengthy to be a radio, and the quality was pure and strong - not coming from speakers. She heard a lot of pain in the sounds as well, and appreciated someone else must be in a lot of torment. Maybe that was why Fallon thought the music was so beautiful. It seemed to touch a familiar chord within her...deep.
Though she had showered the previous night, she had gone out again afterward, and now seemed to have the stink of that man on her. Padding into the bathroom, kicking her discarded clothes out of the way, she turned on the shower again. She climbed behind the curtain before the water had time to warm, and let out a soft expletive.
"Fuck that's cold!"
Not in the mood to do anything but wash, Fallon made quick time of her ablution and wrapped herself in a towel as she stepped out of the tub. Another towel went around her freshly washed hair, and she lazily walked back into the room.
Once dry, the towels joined the tossed clothes, and she pulled a clean sweater and pair of jeans from the dresser. Routing around in the clothes on the floor, she found her bra, and clean panties were pulled from a different drawer. Socks and boots completed her dress today, and she was then ready to do something with her hair.
Not wanting to spend an inordinate amount of time on her long tresses, once they were tangle free she completed a long french braid down the back of her head. Small wisps of hair escaped and curled randomly around her face.
Sitting on the corner of the bed, Fallon again felt human. Or, close to the way she felt when she had been. Now...should she go in search of where she would have her next meal, or investigate the music.
(ooc - Lock Please - Fallon out)
Echos of Screams
The music was beautiful...so soft...lilting...floating through Fallon's head like a breeze in the mountains. She floated along with it, dressed in a calf length diaphanous skirt, and a second skin leotard. Her movements were grace personified...rhythmic ballet, mixed with modern dance, and she glided across a huge ballroom floor.
It was odd that she was in the ballroom by herself, but being so caught up in the music, she spent no time wondering. Her eyes closed, her arms were suspended outward, as if invisible wires held them up, and she moved like the frailest of flowers, blowing on the wind.
Opening her eyes, she could see people standing on the outside of the ballroom. She could see them through the strange walls, that appeared solid, yet transparent. Faces and fingers pressed up against the wall, to watch her dance.
Closing her eyes again, Fallon felt so special. She had never danced for an audience before, and was really finding this experience more than pleasant. Her dancing took on an ethereal air, and she invisioned herself to be similar to a fairy, dancing on the finest spiders web.
Yet something nagged at her, something seemed off, and when she opened her eyes she was no longer in the ballroom. Instead she was in her hotel room, stark naked, and looking into the mirror across from the foot of her bed. But it wasn't the Fallon who had gone to bed earlier that morning, that stared back at her reflection.
Instead before her was a holocaust victim...bones barely covered in skin thin as parchment...so thin her veins were visible. Bones held together tenuously by the skin, pulled taut, with long, cracked and yellowed fingernails hanging from her cadaverous fingers. Eyes sunken, and black, yet bulging...and blood dripping...from her mouth, from her eyes, from her ears.
Fallon screamed. And screamed. And the scream was not only earth shatteringly loud, but shrill...piercing...and ultimately responsible for waking her from the hellish nightmare.
The first thing she realized upon waking, was that the music was still playing.
Fallon
18 years ago