🎞
A memory that never fails to come back to their mind, good or bad
You never forget the first time you die. Nea had been confused, cold, skulking through the strangely more dilapidated halls of Crotus Prenn. Had it been this dark when she went in? Where was her backpack, her skateboard? She opened her mouth to call out to her friends, but nothing came out but a harsh gasp. Her hands flew up to her throat, eyes wheeling around. There was something horribly, horribly wrong. There was a scream, shrill and high, and Nea’s heart rate skyrocketed, a cold sweat breaking out against her exposed temple. The clammy hand around her neck was only proceed by an eerie whooshing sound, the cold cutting steel of a surgical saw contrasting with the sudden heat of blood splattering across Nea’s chest as it was slashed open. The scream that bounced off the brick walls was her own, echoing and charged with pain and surprise. There was no time to react as Nea was tossed to the ground, back hitting the hard floor and stealing whatever breath she still had from her chest. Above her stood–no, floated–a ghastly sight: a feminine form in a vintage nurse dress, head covered by a grimy cloth bag, blood both new and old flecked her dress and strangely stained skin. With another unearthly shriek, the figure lunged down, hands clamping with inhuman strength around Nea’s neck.In her defense, she struggled as best she could, hands clawing desperately at her assailant’s arms, but there was a pressure at the base of her skull before a deadly snap–As her last breath left her lips, Nea felt her sightless eyes being almost tenderly shut by frigid fingers.--When they opened again, she was in the woods, beneath a starless sky. The glow of a fire peeked through the foliage from a distance, and a strange whispering pull told her she needed to go to it. The feverish heat of her dying wound was fresh in her mind, but as she stood on shaking legs, Nea found her skin hale and whole, if a bit dirty. Squaring her shoulders, she swallowed down her fear and began her cautious trek to the fire, and unbeknownst to her at the time, the beginning of the rest of her life.
