Waking Nightmare Part III

When again Mystril’s eyes finally opened, the hollow roar of the hospital room was replaced by the quiet hum of an engine, and the rattle of suspension on asphalt. Her heart was beating at her ribcage like she’d just ran a marathon, and she vaguely remembered the screech of tires losing traction which spurred a car’s horn. That’s what woke her. This was solidified in her mind hearing the driver curse under his breath. No music, only the sounds of the motor. For some reason her instinct wasn’t to jump up, or to look but instead remain very still.

She tried to glean what she could from her place where she laid against the seatbelt. The dashboard was lit dimly, and the glare marred her view out the window. She could roughly estimate that they were at interstate speeds though only judging by the wind. The hospital room was coming back to her too now. Again, she felt a violent pang of nausea as she recalled her discovery. She didn’t even remember losing consciousness.

Her apparent mutilation could wait though, because right now she needed to figure out exactly where she was, and why she was there. Whoever was driving the car was male. Judging by its shape it was a sedan of some sort. She wore a sweatshirt that stunk prominently of stale laundry, and something else sour. She had been sweating in her sleep. She focused on the motion, and realized dimly that they were coming to a stop. Her abductor coughed, muttering something under his breath as a punctuation to his nearly silent scolding. Then with a click from the car’s shifter he left the car’s seat-belt alarm to protest the engine running unattended.

Mystril took initiative, and then sat up. The driver side door was open, and she could hear heavy steps on gravel as the driver stepped away. She could tell by the sheer volume of darkness that the sun had made its escape hours prior. The headlights were off. She ran a quick diagnostic on herself, reacquainting with the strange transformation. She moved her limbs, shifted her legs, and then apprehensively felt again for her ears. Both of them were still gone. Perfectly regular skin where the protrusions should have sat. Her gut again writhed with nausea, as if the wound was more psychic than physical. She could still hear, and so she supposed the alteration wasn’t an immediate issue.

Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dark as she focused on the open door, and she made out the details with incredible clarity. Alpine trees, and the distant sound of running water. She could hear crickets chirping, which was not seasonable for winter. She couldn’t see much out the windshield given the glare from the dashboard. She decided to unbuckle, and leaned forward to get a better angle. She noticed two things. For one, she was far smaller than she’d been previously.

Whereas previously Mystril stood at a rather tall 5’8” she could estimate that about a sixth of that had gone missing. She felt almost like a child as she clambered to look out, grabbing the headrest ahead of her. Then, of course the area outside the car clicked. This was the Truckee river, probably forty minutes out of town. She could tell by the telltale scent of water on desert air, and the trees alone. It seemed to be a moonless night. This place had been her childhood home, and she still lived there. She could even make the walk back there if she chose to.