♛ 001 ; open } { close your eyes, pay the price for your paradise
Bela Talbot hits the end of her rope and she doesn't have the energy to fight anymore.
She spends ten years trying to find whatever answers are out there, and in the process she alienates probably the only people who could help her. Bela never likes asking for help -- on some level she knows that no one does, but she especially doesn't. Asking for help is what got her into this mess in the first place, and now there was no time left to fix it. Dean and Sam are gone. Getting hold of Bobby is a fool's errand. There is no one left to help her, and as the flaps on the clock quickly snap around to midnight and the howls fill the air, she is completely alone.
After spending most of her life alone, this is the first time she actually feels it, sinking in like the kind of cold that goes straight to her bones. She didn't want to die. She wants to live, and that is why she's alone right now. It's a painful irony that cuts right through her and threatens to have the tears start all over again, but she manages to hold them back long enough to stand up and face the fate she had made for herself. The scratching of the claws is at the door now, and Bela can almost smell them, the hot rancid breath that comes with being what they are. She closes her eyes, takes a step back towards the dresser behind her, trying to put as much space between her and them as possible. She's trying to will it away with her mind, to beg for some kind of forgiveness that might save her from this, but it's not the kind of thing that will stick and she knows it.
She takes another step back, and suddenly she's stumbling out into the middle of a street. Her eyes fly open, taking stock of the area around her and quickly moving back onto the sidewalk before she dies as a result of stupidity and nothing else. Once she realizes that she's not in that dingy motel in Pennsylvania, and she's not about to become overgrown puppy chow, she moves her hands up to swipe away the left over tears from her face. She's hoping that she doesn't look as terrible as she feels, but for the most part, she's more concerned about what the hell had just happened.
And more importantly -- where the hell is she?
She spends ten years trying to find whatever answers are out there, and in the process she alienates probably the only people who could help her. Bela never likes asking for help -- on some level she knows that no one does, but she especially doesn't. Asking for help is what got her into this mess in the first place, and now there was no time left to fix it. Dean and Sam are gone. Getting hold of Bobby is a fool's errand. There is no one left to help her, and as the flaps on the clock quickly snap around to midnight and the howls fill the air, she is completely alone.
After spending most of her life alone, this is the first time she actually feels it, sinking in like the kind of cold that goes straight to her bones. She didn't want to die. She wants to live, and that is why she's alone right now. It's a painful irony that cuts right through her and threatens to have the tears start all over again, but she manages to hold them back long enough to stand up and face the fate she had made for herself. The scratching of the claws is at the door now, and Bela can almost smell them, the hot rancid breath that comes with being what they are. She closes her eyes, takes a step back towards the dresser behind her, trying to put as much space between her and them as possible. She's trying to will it away with her mind, to beg for some kind of forgiveness that might save her from this, but it's not the kind of thing that will stick and she knows it.
She takes another step back, and suddenly she's stumbling out into the middle of a street. Her eyes fly open, taking stock of the area around her and quickly moving back onto the sidewalk before she dies as a result of stupidity and nothing else. Once she realizes that she's not in that dingy motel in Pennsylvania, and she's not about to become overgrown puppy chow, she moves her hands up to swipe away the left over tears from her face. She's hoping that she doesn't look as terrible as she feels, but for the most part, she's more concerned about what the hell had just happened.
And more importantly -- where the hell is she?