In another room in the same building, a young woman awakens with a start, shocked at finding herself in an unfamiliar location. Helena jolts off of the sofa she was previously curled up on, surge of momentum and anxious adrenaline sending her padding into the hallway connecting all the rooms in this strange house.
"This," she mutters under her breath, "had better be someone's idea of a really terrible joke."
She's dressed in the clothes she was milling about the house in earlier (tiny shorts, long-sleeved thermal, shoes...somewhere- she doesn't know where those have got to), and she doesn't even think that she was sleeping previously. She raises her voice when she speaks again.
"Hey! Is anyone there? ...Thalia?" And then, sotto voce: "This is so cheap horror movie, fucking hell."
The female voice catches Nathan's attention and his head jerks toward it. Great. He was in someone's house. How was he going to explain this?
Oh, hi! I was just mucking about and saw this cottage and decided to grab some kip. I tried one bed but it was too firm. I tried another bed but it was too soft. Then I found this one and it was just right. Oh - and don't mind the missing porridge.
Right.
"Yeah, I'm here."
Oh - better check for pants! Right, good - not starkers.
She bites back her less-than-reasonable instinctive response, which is well, yes, pretty fucking obviously; she's just glad someone might be able to tell her how to get out of this inexplicably labyrinthine house. Must be a Victorian. Helena finds her shoes (little useless ballet flats) near the end of the hallway and slips those on, glancing up at the doorway the unfamiliar voice seems to be behind.
"Uh--yeah, apparently. Look, I have no idea how the hell I got here, so if you just tell me where the door is, I'll get out of your hair. Christ, I hope I'm still in London."
Comments 18
In another room in the same building, a young woman awakens with a start, shocked at finding herself in an unfamiliar location. Helena jolts off of the sofa she was previously curled up on, surge of momentum and anxious adrenaline sending her padding into the hallway connecting all the rooms in this strange house.
"This," she mutters under her breath, "had better be someone's idea of a really terrible joke."
She's dressed in the clothes she was milling about the house in earlier (tiny shorts, long-sleeved thermal, shoes...somewhere- she doesn't know where those have got to), and she doesn't even think that she was sleeping previously. She raises her voice when she speaks again.
"Hey! Is anyone there? ...Thalia?" And then, sotto voce: "This is so cheap horror movie, fucking hell."
Reply
Oh, hi! I was just mucking about and saw this cottage and decided to grab some kip. I tried one bed but it was too firm. I tried another bed but it was too soft. Then I found this one and it was just right. Oh - and don't mind the missing porridge.
Right.
"Yeah, I'm here."
Oh - better check for pants! Right, good - not starkers.
"Why? Are you here?"
Reply
She bites back her less-than-reasonable instinctive response, which is well, yes, pretty fucking obviously; she's just glad someone might be able to tell her how to get out of this inexplicably labyrinthine house. Must be a Victorian. Helena finds her shoes (little useless ballet flats) near the end of the hallway and slips those on, glancing up at the doorway the unfamiliar voice seems to be behind.
"Uh--yeah, apparently. Look, I have no idea how the hell I got here, so if you just tell me where the door is, I'll get out of your hair. Christ, I hope I'm still in London."
Reply
Well, that didn't sound the least bit creepy. Wait -
"Oi! Do you live here?"
Reply
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