wc: 543
The winter weather had really hit Dahlia De Mai. As usual, the woman could be found in the living quarters or lounge room of Conor’s reside, mulling over thoughts of moving out very soon and how she would want her living quarters decorated, if she ever got that far. However, over the past month as her body was inflating itself to a natural healthy weight balance you could have found her prancing about almost everywhere intent on meeting new faces and expanding her friendship tree. Cercatori d'Arte and Anathema members had treated her well, and she intended to return sometime – especially to seek out the company of Ouija once more perhaps, of whom her meeting with had maybe gone a little too well to be healthy.
Her birthday was soon, and as the girl was rising 2 years of age she clarified it was only right she started to live off her own bat, fully for once. Her dream little cottage with floral decoration lingered beautifully in her imagination, with conscience that it may not be far away – that was if any buildings survived the storm that was so brutally thrashing its rage on her home lands. She turned to glance outside and only witnessed what could literally be described as a whiteout with flock after flock of tender snowflakes being flattened by cruel gusts relentlessly upon the old window, making the house shake and groan eerily in its aged foundations. She pulled herself off the couch, and exited the front door in a quick attempt to stretch her legs. Outside was freezing cold, with Shay wrapping her arms around her torso and rubbing her sides energetically in an attempt to keep her body temperature up. It was impossible to see more than a few feet in front of anything, and gold eyes squinted determined to find a possible path but saw nothing. Something just wasn’t right.
The woman had witnessed her fair share of snow in her short time on this earth – but nothing ever remotely similar to these conditions. Realisation she was being buried alive in the storm the woman turned and headed for the front door seeking refuge… but then it all happened so fast. The deep groan and ear-splitting crack of wood was the only signal for the woman to escape but within that fraction of a moment the opportunity had passed. Shay turned only to be consumed in fear as a dark silhouette hurtled towards her and in a feeble attempt to dodge she bolted for the door two seconds too late. A deafening crack and thunderous crash filled the air as the old tree collided with the house and sent one of its arms down as if the tree was determined to take her down with it, pinning her helplessly underneath its crushing weight. A sickening splintering of her bones with a sharpened branch drilling through her shoulder and the woman released a blood-curdling scream enveloped in excruciating pain. Claustrophobia set in, her claws desperate they screeched along the bark to relieve its flattening weight and remnants of the once glorious now shattered Victorian House descended in rubble clumps. ”no, no NO” she panted, ”Somebody help me...Please!” petrified her body was moments away from being totally crushed.
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