It has taken a good long while but Aurora has finally calmed down enough to be able to assess her situation.
Sort of.
The best she’s been able to ascertain is that she’s been taken prisoner by some psychotic woman and is slowly going to die while in this red-shaded cell. That much she has acknowledged. The fact that she’s not physically here? That right now she is not in her body and is instead a soul without its body? And that her soul is what’s going to die? Not only die, but be slowly digested over a period of time? Those parts she’s having a bit more trouble processing on account of how absurd it all is.
“Call it absurd as much as you want - it’s still true,” the one called Nextday scoffs sourly while rolling her glowing yellow eyes. Aurora has learned that this one is the “downer” of the bunch, although she refers to herself as a realist.
“Young lady-”
“Excuse me? I’m not a child-”
“-I have seen a lot in my 58 odd years of life, but this is a bit on the extreme side.”
“Yeah, well, get used to it. I mean, you’re gonna die anyway, but you still should get used to it. There’s a lot more out there than you realize.”
Aurora sighs. It’s always arguing with this one. “I’m not saying that it’s not true, just that it’s difficult to accept.” She pauses, looking around, trying to block out the pitiful wailing of the souls around her who have been here longer and are therefore far more degraded than she is (not that she has really degraded by this point, but she can’t ignore that ever-present burn on every inch of her body, like a bad sunburn). “We’re going to get out of here somehow.”
“Whatever you say,” Nextday mumbles, turning away from her. Apparently she’s done talking for now, which is fine by Aurora, because hearing all her negativity is starting to bring her down too.
The older Narrator is quiet for a moment. Her thoughts turn to Mariella, Stanley, and Thursday. Even Cyrus, that old bastard. Mariella she’s almost certain is in the same situation; the others, she has no idea. Thursday vanished much earlier than the monstrous woman appeared, vanished without a trace. Just one minute there and gone the next. Stanley went out searching for him, and they hadn’t heard anything back from him in a couple of weeks. Cyrus, well... the two of them rarely communicate as it is. The attack happened so quickly, Aurora had no time to try to reach him. He isn’t here for her to ask, but neither is Mariella. Aurora is simply left to ponder all their fates.
It’s difficult to ponder with all the screaming going on around her, though. Not that she can blame the ones doing the screaming. They’re in horrible agony and their bodies are being eaten away by an unseen corrosive. Aurora fairly assumes she’ll be screaming too once she gets to that point.
One of the Jane Smiths is approaching her again. Aurora wants nothing to do with her, or any of them. There are dozens of others packed in with the rest of them, but they are mostly busy traversing their small confines, looking for their own escape. This one, however, keeps approaching her and trying to get on her good side. After what she did to her - or at least what someone who looks exactly like her did to her - like hell she’s going to engage in friendly chatter with her.
“Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it,” the Narrator says in an effort to cut off whatever bullshit is about to be spewed in her direction.
“I just want to talk, get to know you, learn as much as I can about this situation so that I can try to help-” the woman starts and is cut off by a scoff from Aurora.
“You’ve done quite enough, thank you.”
“I told you, the one who consumed us is not me. I’m an alternate.”
“Right, I can see that,” says Aurora, gazing around at all the other Janes there. “I still don’t trust you nor do I want to talk to you.”
“But listen, something about this place has changed-”
“Yes, there are more of us.”
“No. It’s like the air feels... looser.”
“Looser.”
“Yes. You don’t feel it?”
“Actually, no, the only thing I feel is my skin burning.”
“No. Not that. There’s something different-”
“Do go away now. I’d rather listen to the screams than you.”
The Jane Smith presses her lips together and walks off, no doubt trying to find someone else to listen to her nonsense, leaving Aurora there to ponder.