Forced to relearn how to live, the world seemed different from what she remembered, both terrifying and thrilling. Everything around her felt magnified, almost overwhelming.
It started subtly, with scents seeming more potent, but soon, sounds became sharper, echoing louder than before. The presence of the forest pressed down on her, a living, breathing entity she could no longer ignore.
Even the air felt heavier, thick with something unseen yet tangible, something ancient that whispered of change.
Her body fluctuated uncontrollably, shifting from hot to cold in rapid succession as if it couldn't decide what state it belonged in. The overstimulation made her falter, her wounds reopening as her very being screamed, "I AM HERE!"
The sensation sank deeper, pressing against her spirit, until a gentle touch ran over her flesh. The contact reached into her soul as much as her body.
Instead of recoiling, she leaned into it, a soft mew escaping her lips. The movement stirred her closer to wakefulness, yet the fog remained, keeping her mind wrapped in an unsteady haze while her body worked tirelessly to mend itself.
Once-torn flesh stitched itself together, leaving behind scars that would linger for years to come, a permanent reminder of what had been. Words drifted through the haze, muffled and indistinct, but the warmth surrounding her remained constant.
Something soft cushioned her as she slipped in and out of consciousness. A warm liquid grazed her lips, and a soft hum filled the air, the soothing sound lulling her further into the unknown.
She was unaware of the whimpers and fits that plagued her as she was gently cleaned and dressed in new clothes, warmth encircling her once more.
Her mind wandered while her body mended. Unconsciously, she drifted outside of herself, looking down at her sleeping form.
A gasp escaped her lips as she stepped backward. A soft, quiet snore caught her attention, drawing her gaze to the corner of the room.
Turning, she saw a man slumbering peacefully. He didn't acknowledge her, or perhaps he simply couldn't.
Her attention shifted to the window, where sunlight peeked through the curtains. She reached out, fingers stroking toward the light... Nothing.
A soft growl rumbled in her throat as she tried again, attempting to move the fabric... Still nothing.
"What the fuck?" she muttered, looking at her sheer, ghostlike fingers. Frustration flared in her chest as she turned back toward the sleeping form of herself.
Stepping closer, she hesitated before reaching out, placing her fingers against her own arm. A sudden force yanked her back, a loud POP echoing in her ears.
She shot upright, gasping for breath as she stared at her hands. Solid. Relief flooded her, but confusion quickly followed as she glanced around.
The sun had vanished. In its place, the moon now cast its silvery glow through the curtains.
"What the..." she whispered. She had just seen daylight, yet now the world had shifted.
Had time passed while she was lost between worlds?
Had she even returned as she once was?
Carefully, she slipped out of the bed, her movements slow and deliberate, unwilling to wake the stranger. Her eyes flickered to him before a sudden wave of sensation crashed over her.
A whimper escaped as she instinctively recoiled back onto the bed. Too much. Everything was too much.
Emotions flooded her all at once. The weight of everything, her escape, the blood she had spilled, the fires she had set, crushed her. She had embraced death beneath that tree, welcomed it, yet now she was here. Alive.
Had it all been mental? Spiritual? Had she truly returned from beyond the veil? Her mind hadn't fully recovered from the last twenty-four hours, but she had been through horrors before.
She had always endured. But this was different. This was something more than pain, more than survival. This was rebirth, and it terrified her.
The images replayed in her mind. Every wound. Every cry. The sting of each blade and the weight of each death.
The fleeting joy of seeing her family again, only to have it ripped away as life forced itself back into her body. She hadn't realized how much damage she had taken.
Instinctively, she checked herself, gently noting where she still ached. Most of her wounds had closed, the deeper cuts reduced to thin scars, while the minor ones had already faded.
A breath escaped her as she slipped from the bed, still mindful of the stranger. He had done something to her, but what? Whatever it was, it had changed her. She was certain of that.
Laverna turned toward the mirror on the wall, studying her reflection. Slowly, she raised a hand, poking at her face, half-expecting something unfamiliar to stare back at her. She bared her teeth, relief washing over her when she saw no fangs.
"Not a vampire," she muttered, almost amused.
She wasn't well-versed in the deeper aspects of her kind. Her family had been slaughtered before she could learn the full extent of what she was.
She had heard whispers, but nothing concrete. Her gaze drifted downward to her arms, tracing over the bite marks that marred her skin. Scars, old and new, covered her body.
Then she saw it.
A thin black line peeked out from under her skirt. Her breath hitched. Pulling the fabric lower, her eyes widened at the intricate sigil now etched into her lower abdomen, centered below the navel.
"What the fuck..." she whispered, stepping closer to the mirror.
The sigil was unlike anything she had ever seen. To the left of the design sat a small orange dot, while an upside-down L pointed outward.
The center featured an infinity-like figure-eight, with crossing lines that stretched toward her navel before curving downward. To the right, another L shape faced the correct way, mirroring its counterpart on the left.
A blue dot, opposite the orange one, pulsed faintly. The colors shifted and faded between deep orange and dark blue, almost as if the mark were alive.
Confusion tightened in her chest. What did this mean? Had it kept her alive? Was it a new slave mark? Had she been branded by death itself after stepping beyond the veil? The uncertainty made her angry.
She clenched her fists. If this were some sort of shackle, she would rather die than be bound again. She had hoped for peace, for a final escape. But now, the sweet embrace of death had been stolen from her.
Her eyes flickered toward the sleeping man. Should she run? Could she escape?
Then, clarity struck.
She didn't have the facts. Killing him without reason would be no different from the monsters who had enslaved her.
Frustration mixed with exhaustion as she took a step forward, drawn to the stranger despite herself. His scent was intoxicating, lulling her in. A sudden, confusing urge to curl into his warmth made her stomach twist.
"What the hell is wrong with me?" she muttered, shaking her head before turning away.
Her eyes landed on the nightstand, where a platter of food and a cup of water sat waiting. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, and she wasted no time grabbing the meal.
Even if the meal was a little salty, it was real. Untainted. No longer a weapon used against her.
And if anyone dared to take her freedom again, there would be hell to pay.