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The world was veiled in blue. Blue lights that left her warm and cold at the same time, blinking, slowly, on and off. She tried to ignore them, groaning softly, shifting her face down to hide her eyes, before suddenly, the world began to quake.
With attempted dignity and grace, she threw one hand out before her, searching for something to stabilize herself with. She barely managed to stop her glasses clattering to the floor, by slamming her free hand into her face.
In the wake of the brutal halt, everything swayed softly. Her hand had found some stability on a ledge, fingers digging into cold metal and glass. She took a few deep breaths, reassuring herself that the shock was over, and readjusted her glasses. As the world came into focus, she realized a few things:
One, she was not on the train, where she was most certainly supposed to be. Two, everything in this room was blue. Three, there was a man and a woman sitting before her. And four, she was not on the ground. The tremors that had woken her were not from an earthquake, a crash, or anything else. Just a stopping.
She was in a Ferris Wheel.
Her fingers clenched harder on the metal seat and window ledge as she fought to keep her composure--she hated heights--and she took a few steadying breaths. Then she lifted her eyes to the short, balding, long-nosed man before her. He smiled, a smile far too wide to be natural, and gave a high-pitched chuckle that set off all of the red flags in her head.
"Welcome," he said, eyes burning into hers, smile seeming not even to move, "to the Velvet Room."
She opens her mouth to answer him, to ask where she is, what's going on, how she got here, but her voice deflates in her throat, leaving her mute. Kidnapping? Or a nightmare. Definitely a nightmare.
With attempted dignity and grace, she threw one hand out before her, searching for something to stabilize herself with. She barely managed to stop her glasses clattering to the floor, by slamming her free hand into her face.
In the wake of the brutal halt, everything swayed softly. Her hand had found some stability on a ledge, fingers digging into cold metal and glass. She took a few deep breaths, reassuring herself that the shock was over, and readjusted her glasses. As the world came into focus, she realized a few things:
One, she was not on the train, where she was most certainly supposed to be. Two, everything in this room was blue. Three, there was a man and a woman sitting before her. And four, she was not on the ground. The tremors that had woken her were not from an earthquake, a crash, or anything else. Just a stopping.
She was in a Ferris Wheel.
Her fingers clenched harder on the metal seat and window ledge as she fought to keep her composure--she hated heights--and she took a few steadying breaths. Then she lifted her eyes to the short, balding, long-nosed man before her. He smiled, a smile far too wide to be natural, and gave a high-pitched chuckle that set off all of the red flags in her head.
"Welcome," he said, eyes burning into hers, smile seeming not even to move, "to the Velvet Room."
She opens her mouth to answer him, to ask where she is, what's going on, how she got here, but her voice deflates in her throat, leaving her mute. Kidnapping? Or a nightmare. Definitely a nightmare.