There's Something Under My Bed!

by **Neive** on February 18th, 2016, 12:03 am

8th Winter 515av
Dusk Rest
Neive's apartment

　
　　As the golden rays of Syna cast dusky oranges across the grey clouded sky, the sparkling diamond of Kalea grew silent, its denizens all taking shelter from the drizzling rain. Dusk Rest had fallen over the city just as the temperatures of the mountains plummeted to freezing. Winter’s grasp encroaching its firm hold over the Kalea peaks.
　　Tired, frustrated, emotional, Neive exploded into her apartment. Slamming her front door shut and falling against it, she ran her fingers through her fiery, damp hair. The day’s search across the sparkling city for her lost father’s hat, had been fruitless.
　　Arriving in the celestial city only the day before, the young Inarta had found herself awed by its magnificence. While she had had the safety and security of her people, of a way home, Neive had found herself day-dreaming of living in the enchanting city and of independence, away from the shackles of the caste system back home. Now that she was faced with the realities of her dreams, she struggled with its responsibilities.
　　Calming herself, she took a few steadying breaths, before dragging her feet towards her bed. The day hadn’t been a total waste. Having taken another trip to the Cosmos Center, Youchi, the assistant there had found Neive an apprenticeship at the only Glasswork shop in the city. She finally had what she wanted – an apprenticeship.
　　All those hours of study, of relentlessly working herself to the bone. After sleepless nights and years of hard work to gain an apprenticeship, she finally got it – albeit not in the city she wished, but she had finally reached her goal. So… why wasn’t she happy?
　　Plonking herself down on the edge of her soft, bouncy bed, Neive kicked off her boots and rolled onto her pillow. As she lay there, hugging the corners of the soft material, her gut swirled and her mind buzzed with a million and one different thoughts and feelings.
　　She felt so lost. Her people were so far away and she knew no one in this city, shyke, she could barely even speak to the people in this city! She craved the comforting touch of her mother, her reassuring words. She just wanted to go home!
　　Everything felt so strange, so alien here, everything was so different. Most of the day she didn’t know where she was going, getting lost at almost every turn. She barely found her way back home! Home.. she guessed that was what this place was now, but it didn’t feel it in the least.
　　Despite her loathsome feelings towards the caste culture of her Kin, she sort of missed it. At least back home, there was always someone of higher rank that could tell her what to do, where to go. She never had to think very much about anything.
　　Back in Wind Reach she detested such authority, here in Lhavit, she now craved for someone to tell her what she should do. Being truly independent, making your own choices, weighing up every decision, was tough and it was tiring.
　　Despair rippled through the young Inarta like a strong gust fluttered beneath the wings of the Wind Eagles in flight. Curling into a ball, Neive gripped the corners of her pillow tighter, closing her eyes lightly, tears slowly trickled down her cheeks. As she gave herself over to the full force of her emotions, the young Inarta gradually cried herself into a deep slumber.

She never felt so ~~alone~~.

by **Neive** on March 8th, 2016, 3:56 pm

A few bells later,
Late-night

BANG!

　
　　Bolting upright, the young Inarta's wide cerulean gaze searched the open space of her apartment fitfully. Her heart thundered fearfully in her chest as she struggled to see in the dense darkness. Shadows of the hearth in the corner, of the desk, table and windows played tricks on her mind. She saw shapes moving in the murky dark, yet knew they were inanimate objects.
　　She suddenly realised she had been holding her breath and as she released it, found it came back in quick, sharp gasps. Her whole body felt very alive, the fear of something being in her apartment sending adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her hands felt shaky as she turned to roll off her bed, scrambling for her pack on the table by the window.
　　She stumbled and fumbled about in the night, until she found her flint and steel and made her way over to the hooded lamp, sat on the desk in the other corner of her small, one roomed apartment. Struggling to see anything, fright still rife in her stomach, the young Inarta fiddled with her flint and steel, clumsily attempting to ignite the oil and create light.
　　After a few failed attempts, she finally caught a spark into full flame and quickly her home was illuminated in a soft, flickering glow. Eyes still wide, heart racing, Neive fearfully lifted the lantern and shone its light onto the rest of her rented space. Searching each corner carefully, she scanned for what could have possibly made the loud noise.
　　Nothing seemed out of place, no one was in the room, yet the hairs on her arms stood at attention, shivers coursed down her spine. She felt as though eyes were training her. She felt as though someone was here, but there wasn’t. Her eyes were telling her that her mind was playing tricks, yet her other senses were telling her the opposite.
　　Neive stood by the desk, frozen in place, not wanting to move, yet there was nothing out of place. Slowly calming herself, the young Inarta continued to glance over her lit apartment, making sure she was truly safe. Eventually, she plucked up the courage to take a walk about.
　　It took every inch of courage she had, but she forced her legs to move. Shining her lantern in every shadowed corner, she made her way back to the table. Sucking in a deep breath, the young Inarta soothed herself. Everything was fine, she must have dreamt the noise, or maybe it came from one of the neighbouring rooms of the Solar Winds tower. Yes, that must be it.
　　Rationalising her fear, the young Inarta fell into the wooden chair that accompanied her small table. Resting the hooded lantern upon its smooth, pine surface, Neive cupped her face in her hands and rested her elbows on the table top, steadying her buzzing body and slowing her erratic breaths.
　　The silence of her apartment, suddenly felt rather eerie and uncomfortable. She still felt as though she was being watched, it froze her in place. Peeking through the slits in her fingers, Neive scanned the room, just once more. She was definitely alone…. Right?

　　

by **Neive** on March 8th, 2016, 8:35 pm

　　Sighing, Neive shook her head, "You’re being silly. There’s no one here." Unable to shake the unnerving feeling, Neive pushed herself up. Forcing her jittery limbs to move, she went over to the hearth in the far right corner. Nabbing some tinder from her pack, the young Inarta placed the small cluster of sawdust underneath the collection of wood and set flint against steel.
　　As a spark took a hold of the tinder, Neive sat cross-legged before the hearth and gave a gentle breath to the small flame to help it ignite the wood. As the warm blaze kindled it sent, ebony, shapes dancing across the walls, making Neive all the more anxious. Her mind still foggy with sleep, yet wired with adrenaline at the same time, the only cure for both, was tea.
　　She had just enough water left in her waterskin for a cup. Pouring the water into her iron kettle, the young Inarta carefully set the teakettle into the flames to boil. Grabbing her pack off the table, Neive brought it with her as she sat scarily close to the hearth.
　　Setting out a cup with a small pinching of tea leaves, the young Inarta hugged her knees close to her chest and rocked gently. As she waited for the kettle to boil, her wild cerulean gaze shifted from shadow to shadow around the apartment.
　　The shrilling screeching of the kettle finally told the young Inarta that the water was ready, wrapping her hand in her damasked scarf, Neive swiftly pulled the kettle from the flames and filled her cup.
　　Placing the iron teakettle to the side, she gently stirred the tea leaves to draw out some flavour. Taking a quick sip, near scalding her lips, it wasn’t enough. She would need to let it steep for a bit.
　　Not wanting to remain in silence with the wildly dancing shadows and the creepy feeling she was being watched, Neive rummaged around in her pack for her drawing book and charcoal. A distraction to calm herself, tea to soothe, this will work.
　　The young Inarta moved the tea cup so that is was close to her left knee as she crossed her legs in under herself, shimmying on her behind to get comfortable. Flipping open her drawing book, she turned to the last entry, the one with Lhavit’s laws written in a messy list.
　　Skimming over the writing, familiarising herself with them again, she flipped back a page to her drawing of the Springwater Fountain. It had been so beautiful. Her drawing really didn’t do it justice. The memory the picture instilled in her from the day before, brought a sad smile to her lips.
　　She had been so excited to have landed in a new place. She had been so swept up in Lhavit’s beauty. The feelings that stirred back to mind from the drawing, helped to sweep away her homesickness. It reminded her of what Lhavit had stimulated within her the moment she had arrived.
　　Grace, beauty and the freedom to grow. Freedom. Somehow Lhavit made the idea seem blissful. The reality of having true freedom, away from the caste system, was all the more troublesome to grow accustomed to though.
　　The young Inarta steadily began to feel at ease, Lhavit that much closer to feeling like it could be home. Maybe she should stay here. Save up and move her family here. She could give her family a better life, she could give them a warm bed, clothes that weren’t just rags. Maybe… It was an idea to contemplate over the winter anyway.

　　

by **Neive** on March 8th, 2016, 9:27 pm

　　As the fire crackled and popped, Neive felt herself begin to truly relax. Studying her drawing of the Springwater fountain, Neive decided to try out her previous idea of shading her page grey with charcoal, before attempting to draw.
　　Flipping her book to a new page, Neive turned it sideways. Softly placing the charcoal stick on its side on the paper, the young Inarta gently rolled it over the snowy white areas – lightly greying them. She would test her theory to see if it would better hide her mistakes if she had to erase a line.
　　All the while she continued to shade the page, the sharp movements of shadows flickering across the walls, caused Neive to freeze in fright. A swift glance around her, reassured the young Inarta that it was just the light playing tricks and she returned to her drawing. With the page greyed, Neive decided to attempt to capture the hearth and the playful fire within, to test her theory.
　　She shuffled back an inch or so from the hearth to get a better view point and pinched the charcoal stick between her forefinger and thumb. Carefully, lightly she placed the tip of the stick to the page and started from the bottom, like she always did. Drawing a line across the middle of the page, she drew a ¾ finished rectangle for the base of the fireplace, leaving just enough room below it for the shadows of the fire upon the floor.
　　Drawing two parallel lines upwards, with one line joining the two at the top, she finished her hearth outline. Getting a 3D look, was tricky and Neive wasn’t quite sure where to start. She needed to give her hearth outline a hollowed in look.
　　Too stumped on the issue, the young Inarta instead continued by drawing the haphazard bundle of wood, slowly burning and crumbling away beneath the blaze, inside her hearth outlines.
　　At first, she drew just the rough shape of the wood. Attempting to copy the grainy texture of the wood, Neive flicked random, soft strokes of her charcoal across each of her log drawings. They looked somewhat like the cracks and grains of the material, not a lot like them, but a little.
　　For the fire, Neive decided not to control the outlines of the flames so much. Fire was unpredictable, shifting. If her fire looked too structured it would look too fake. She let her hand fly free, drawing the curves of the flames wherever her whims took her, within the confines of the hearth of her drawing of course.
　　Using the tips of her fingers, the young Inarta began shading a little to give the flames a bit more life. Glancing to and fro from the page and the dancing flames in real life, she was unhappy with how the bottom of her fire joined with the wood. Time to test her theory that if she greyed her page, then when she had to erase a line it should hopefully just blend into the already grey background. Time to see.
　　With her index finger, she began to rub at the line she wanted gone, swiping at the charcoal until – yes! It disappeared. Unlike her drawing of the fountain, which was left with multiple grey smudges from her mistakes, in this drawing the smudged lines simply disappeared into the already grey background. No matter how many mistakes she would make, they wouldn’t be noticeable any more.
　　The young Inarta was elated with her progress and decided to a take a mini break. Neive reached down to grab the cup of steaming tea she had placed by her left knee. As she shimmied her butt and reached for the cup, all her fingers found was empty air.

Confused, the young Inarta looked down. It wasn’t there!

　　Her heart jumped into her throat, she struggled to draw breath. She was sure that was where she had left it. It was where she had left it! Suddenly the unsettling feeling of being watched overwhelmed her. Her spine shivered, her forehead began to tickle as sweat formed on her brow. Using her thumb as a bookmark, Neive shut her book and searched all around her for the cup of tea that had suddenly disappeared.
　　It was nowhere to be seen! Frantically panicked, Neive shot up to her feet. Her stomach fluttered wildly, her whole body was paralysed. As she scanned her apartment, the flickering light of the fire finally revealed the whereabouts of her tea.

It was sat upon the pine table top… By the window…
At least 3ft away!

by **Neive** on March 8th, 2016, 11:04 pm

　　Terror rang through every fibre of the young Inarta. She didn’t know how, nor did she care, she just wanted out! There was definitely something in here with her!
　　With her heart thundering in her chest, in her ears, her mind whirling at the how or what, Neive remained frozen. She didn’t want to move. What if it got her? She couldn’t see it, she could run straight into it's arms!
　　Did she risk no action at all? If she didn’t make a run for it, she would be stuck here with whatever it was. Eyeing up the door, Neive searched around her. She saw nothing but the shadows flickering across the walls, the way was clear. The door wasn’t very far. If she was quick, she could make it.
　　Biting her lower lip, containing a petrified whimper, Neive swallowed hard. Go! Neive dropped her book. As it clattered to the wooden floorboards, Neive sprinted across her apartment. The adrenaline rushing through her gave her agility she didn’t know she had. The wind brushed against her face, she blocked everything out of sight, focusing solely on the door. She was almost there!
　　Suddenly she heard a loud click and clank. Her heart almost stopped in dread, her stomach sank. It was the sound of the door lock. It had locked her in. It was by the door! Skidding to a halt, the young Inarta back tracked. Refusing to take her eyes off the door she cautiously stepped back towards the hearth, vying for a glimpse, a hint, a flicker of movement from it, just so she knew where it was.

BANG!

　　The wooden chair by the table was suddenly thrown into her path! Neive gasped, too frightened for a scream to make it out past her constricted throat. The chair now blocked her way to the hearth, to the fire, to a weapon. Her whole body trembled, her heart threatened to burst from her ribcage. She felt like crying, she wanted to, but what was that going to achieve?
　　She couldn’t leave, the door was locked. She didn’t know what to do. Neive stood paralysed in place, her gaze pivoting around the room, searching every corner, every shadow. Suddenly shivers convulsed down her back. The hair framing her high cheekbones and cut jaw brusquely wavered. She suddenly felt a chilly breeze upon her neck.
　　She couldn’t breathe. She squeezed her eyes shut, gulping, quivering. It was there, it was right there, she could feel it. The young Inarta’s mind screamed at her to run! But she couldn’t. Another icy draft. Neive sniffed as her breaths came in ragged succession.

　　A voice, without warning, whispered into the edgy silence in Common, deep and husky, “You’re mine.”

　　

by **Neive** on March 8th, 2016, 11:11 pm

　　It was enough to release all the terror contained within the young Inarta. With a sharp, penetrating scream she bolted! Racing towards the door she knew was locked, but she didn’t care.
　　Adrenaline fuelling her limbs, she crashed into the wooden frame. Pulling on the handle, jerking it up and down, she fumbled for the lock. Panic-stricken, she couldn’t work her fingers properly. It was useless, she couldn’t get out!
　　A loud shudder resonated through the wooden door just above her hands. She stumbled back, lost her footing and fell to the floor. Scrambling to get away, she knew it was there – by the door. Limbs flailing, she edged towards her bed. Keeping her gaze trained ahead, she groped for the edge of the bed to help her to her feet, where she remained frozen, holding her breath.
　　Her veins pulsed, her heart thudded painfully in her ears, she strained to hear, to see. For what seemed an eternity, she was left glaring wide-eyed through the flickering light. The sudden silence was deafening. She couldn’t bare it. As she stood, panting, swallowing in big hard gulps, the room fell into an infinite quiet.
　　For a long time nothing happened. Was it gone? Was she safe? Did she dare believe that? Neive tentatively took a half a step forward, glancing behind her at the rest of her apartment. Could she make a go for it?
　　Biting her lower lip, half whimpering, half trying to draw steadying breaths, she was slowly building up the courage. She focused on the door handle, on the lock. If she went for it, this time she couldn’t mess up, this time she had to get through. Her decision was made.
　　Neive readied herself. 'One…Two… Thr-' Suddenly a pair of hands grasped her ankles from beneath the bed! With a hard and unsuspecting yank Neive’s feet were pulled from under her.
　　Slamming onto the wooden floorboards, hard, Neive felt a ringing pain sear through her jaw. The air was crushed from her lungs, she struggled for a breath! Momentarily stunned, she suddenly realised the harsh grip was still latched onto her ankles.
　　As she cried out in both pain and terror, she attempted to kick it off. In response, it suddenly roped her in. Dragging her under the bed with power and speed unlike anything she had ever encountered before.
　　Frantically, Neive scratched at the floor. Clawing for a hand hold, for something to save her! She let rip a piercing, hoarse cry as she was dragged into the darkness...

Into the darkness underneath her bed...
Where the ~~monsters~~ live.

End.

by **Konrad Venger** on April 26th, 2016, 3:36 pm

Nice job! Your work has pleased The Sloth!

Neive

XP:
Observation - 2
Drawing - 1

Lore:
The Wonder and the Agony of Leaving Home for Somewhere New
Igniting an Oil Lamp with Flint and Steel
Lhavit: Grace, Beauty, Freedom
Drawing: Three Dimensions is NOT Easy

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Solo There's Something Under My Bed!