FOR BONNIE THIS PLACE IS SHROUDED IN DARKNESS. A strange box with each side coated in the blackest of night, thick and never ending and yet somehow so claustrophobic she thinks she might actually faint. There's fog here too, subtle and misty and despite the lack of light here she can spy it clear as day, as if the cloud itself is illuminated by some ethereal luminescence. She can faintly hear voices, Elena's⸻ of course, and her own. But it's wrong. The way she speaks is hollow and rounded, as if someone has hijacked her very own vocal chords to relay some sort of incredibly imperative message. Bonnie doesn't like this place, every time she comes here she's stricken with a fear that radiates through her entire being, crippling her into a ball so small she might actually disappear, transform into a pebble and never be heard from again. Just a lonely little rock forgotten in a place that never seemed to know people.
" Feathers bring death. "
As if from underwater she can hear it, her own garbled far away voice that is somehow not her own. Hands clasp tightly over her ears hoping to block out the noises that made her heart crash so violently against her chest. She didn't like it here and in that moment Bonnie promised herself she would do anything she could in order to prevent herself from coming back.
Just like that it's over, her ears are ringing and the lights are back⸻ but what had happened? Just like the fog the memories are fading, lapsing and dissipating until they slip right through her fingers and wash away like so much sand on the breeze. "What⸻ what's going on?" Little psychic asks, voice her own trembling and warbly as soft chocolate hues threaten to spill tears. It's always like this when she comes back, the sudden ricochet back into her own corporeal form as if she's been slingshot-ed through the tiniest pin hole you might imagine and bounced all around her frame until her soul fits back the way it should. "WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT?"