Glance 117
Elle Driver ran down the white walls that tried to keeping caged in. The motion of her legs falling into a fast tread made her already aching head swim. She was running to get away from dying the death of a weak and lowly creature. Dying like that was not the goal. Go out like a warrior, if not a warrior then someone to stand alone and greet death. She paused, swaying. Her bare feet, bandaged at the arch, attempted to grasp the ground as she eased to lean against the wall. Her hair hung limp and almost oily into her face.
Out. Out.
For days she had been enclosed within the single apartment, betrayed by her body that had fallen ill at a neck breaking speed. No food would stay in her stomach. No rest would come to her in sleep. Her entire body was too warm to be cooled. Even now in a thin tank top and pair of striped pajama pants, Elle was breaking into a sweat again. The white wall she leaned against was a small relief but it was not enough.
Out. Out.
She pushed herself away, intending to sprint again even though it made her want to vomit the contents of her stomach she didn’t have anymore. Elle only got as far as pushing from the wall when a pain like a blow to the head crashed down onto her. There was nothing to grab onto but still, she tried scratching at the paint. One strike after another broke over her brain keeping some strange tempo that syncopated with her racing heart. The assassin felt as though her body was ripping at the seams, stretching and tearing inside and out.
Out. OUT.
Elle dimly registered that Luke was calling for her somewhere far up the hallway. Answering him was impossible. Breathing alone was difficult. Standing became even more so. She found her self falling but landed higher than floor level. Hands and-knees? No. Feet. Hands and feet. Skin prickled and itched all over. The beating in her head persisted but at a slower pace, feeling more like the long, rolling toll of a clock.
It was time.
A sting began in her spine and ran up each vertebra. It rapidly spread to each bone and joint. Her shaking hands clenched to fists as the sting came down her arms that bent and contorted. The very structure of the woman, bones first, organs, then muscle were manipulated in to different shapes. The thin cotton clothing she wore tore away, not fitting any longer. Tufts of pale hair-no, fur-grew from her skin which stretched over altered bones. Elle gasped and opened her mouth to scream but was terrified to find that her jaw expanded to open farther then it should. The simple, soft fabric eye patch Elle had been wearing hung on her extended snout. She lifted a hand to pull it away to notice a lack of fingers and a lack of hand.
Panic and terror gave the assassin drive to run again. The motion was clumsy at first. Elle fought to stand up straight and had to give up. Her back legs would not support her weight on their own. Four legs were better, better than two. They fell into movement well. With each step the agony she had been in reduced to nothing. She forced her weight against the glass of the lobby door and stepped out into the night. The haze had lifted from her and was replaced with thousands of new sensations. Different and distinct odors registered in her head from the old rainwater in a puddle to the places a stray had wandered. Her empty stomach was begging to be filled. Awareness cascaded out and around her. New! New! All was new around her!
Someone was shouting. The sound meant nothing to her. The woman, for now, exhausted and weakened fell asleep leaving instinct and an awakened beast at the controls. Farther and farther she ran into the darkened City streets.
[ooc; Elle has a problem now that is beyond just being as sick as a dog. D: Post was made before the bolt. She wasn't in her right mind and certainly isn't right now whilst MIA.]