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Annette woke up in someplace dark. Not 'dark' like the all-encompassing void or the black hole that threatened to consume everything until there was nothing left. No, it was a darkness that screamed danger louder than words could ever express. A danger you felt in your soul, the looming threat of death after death breathing down your neck, the hairs on your nape standing up as goosebumps wreck your being. A fear so primal it was all encompassing as the aforementioned void.
A type of fear Annette was all too well acquainted with. A deadly epiphany of sorts.
Her mind felt hazy, a little blurry around the edges, not quite real, but not quite fake to be called an illusion either. A rift of irregularity within reality, similar but not quite like the fog insomnia provides in the depths of the night where not a creature but yourself was awake, blinded by exhaustion, but not quite able to get reprieve just yet. With some effort, her eyes rose from the spot they were fixed onto the floor to observe her surroundings. Dark, cold, grimy. Unpleasant. Disconcerting. And yet, in some ways it was crystal clear, a strong rotten tang in the air, unmistakably the scent of blood and rot and death, but with a sweeter, more delicate smell hidden somewhere underneath. She couldn't seem to figure out what it was. Annette didn't think she wanted to know either, but suspicion nagged at her racing mind nonetheless.
It was only after a minute that she took notice of the figure standing before her, and another minute to take her in.
No... It couldn't be.
Realisation instantly bloomed from within her, shaking her to her very core. There was simply no way she wouldn’t be able to figure out who this was. That she wouldn’t be able to discern her, of all people. Not with the way she was evoked the same darkness as the tendrils of decay that clung to Annette’s psyche, strangling at her heart, a bad memory you could never quite forget no matter how hard you would try.
"W-What are you doing here??" Panic rushed into her voice like a tidal wave, rough and without mercy. "T-There's no way... W-Why... How were you able to...?" The words died on her tongue before they could even form, terror overtaking her.
The figure, a pale elven creature with long raven hair and an elegant looking dress simply and motionlessly stared back at her, her soulless eyes boring into Annette's soul. If it wasn’t for the deathly pallor of her skin, she would’ve found her comparable to that of the same shadows she was enveloped in. Despite the darkness, her eyes seemed to glow brightly, almost as if illuminating the area.
If one was to look behind this figure, one might catch a glimpse of what looked like a pile of corpses. Most of them were unremarkable, lacking any distinguishing features, maybe people she once saw on the street but nothing more. However, upon closer inspection, as her eyes were not able to discard the sight right away, a few telling bits and pieces swam into view. A battered helmet, a few recognizable garments, some metal plating, a treasured keepsake.
Annette felt her blood run even colder as she tore her eyes away.
If the figure had any awareness of them, either the bodies or Annette’s reaction she did not seem to show it, or rather if she was aware, she didn't particularly seem to care for them in the slightest. Instead the figure seemed laser focused on the one before her.
She did not move even an inch, except for her eyes, which followed Annette with meticulous accuracy. As Annette scooted back, her form trembling, away from the figure, her gaze would follow, locked onto the tiefling the same way a predator would look when hunting its prey.
There wasn't much room, the space seeming like it was shrinking in on itself the more Annette tried to put distance between the two of them, so it wasn't long until Annette felt her back hit the cold brick behind her, freezing her in yet another way. She could hear her breath as if it wasn't coming from her body but rather all around her, accompanied by the echoing sounds of her heart. The world continued to blur around her, except the figure who seemed to remain clear despite it all.
"..." The figure didn't utter a word as she began to follow Annette’s movements, physically now, her quiet steps impossibly loud. "Y-you’re not here, this… this isn’t h-happening… T-There's no way you could be here," Annette cried out, as if her flimsy words could fight this threat before her. "There’s no way that you—"
"This is all your fault." The figure cuts her off, her voice as cold and sharp as the steel of a blade, and as if on cue, something glinted by her side. It, just like everything else about her, seems to ring clearly in the otherwise foggy atmosphere. Somehow, there's even less mercy in the figure’s voice than there was in her eyes.
The blade somehow appears to be distinct in her eyes, too much so. The familiarity sends a frigid liquid fear rushing through her veins.
"P-Please… I... I... didn't ask for this, I didn't want any of this."
The figure stops before her, now not even a foot of space between them. There’s an unkind look in her eyes as if she didn’t even bother to acknowledge or contemplate what the tiefling whimpered.
"You don't deserve to live," the figure spoke, her judgement harsh and cold, and with a quick swoop the dagger’s blade kissed against her skin.
Annette woke up screaming. When her eyes cleared and reality swam back into view, there sitting innocently in front of her was a single white chrysanthemum, not yet stained by the blood of its victim. The voice of the figure from her dreams still echoed in her brain.