BloodStormCh1

The garrot tightened. The bound body jerked, dancing like a marionette. Blood spilled and spread, flowing over darkly
furred fingers.

"Die, blood sucker."

The metal strand relaxed. Those dark hands put rhythmic pressure on the body's chest, pumping free the last of ruby life.
Triumphant black eyes stared at the expanding pool of blood.

(1)

Orchid drifted from a deep, dark slumber filled with haunting shades of crimson. Eyes closed she tried to grasp at the
escaping strands of her dreams. Pain. An unameable pain was all she caught and that ghostly memory swiftly squirmed free,
leaving her confused as she opened her eyes

She struggled to rise from an unfamiliar thickly carpeted floor. Her skin felt tight. Pinched. Looking down, she discovered
herself covered in the same sticky red and purple liquid that had filled her dreams, pressing what little clothing she wore to her
like a second skin. An odd odor filled her nostrils. Sweet. Sickly. The stench of rotting flowers.

God, what is that smell? She swayed on her feet, searching for the source of the unpleasant fragrance. Her eyes drew
down the stain that covered her and understanding dawned. Blood. The scent overwhelming. She fell to her knees and retched
dryly as the viscous fluid trickled down her body.

Taking long deep breaths, she forced herself to stand, moving erratically about the strange room, her balance challenged by
an odd weight on her shoulders. She twisted to find the cause of that weight but her glance caught a sudden movement beside
her. Shock, a creeping cold that spread outward from her chest, thread its aching demands through her limbs. A tall mirror
showed her an unbelievable figure. Blood had drenched the figure's neck and flowed down over small breasts, pooling on the
fabric between them until it had poured down the rest of the body, soaking the shift she wore and causing the fabric to cling.
Orchid wiped down her body with a hand. A clawed hand. Wet brown fur had replaced her olive colored skin.

Her breathing shallow and forced, she regarded her reflection's face, her face. It wasn't...right. She stared long into
inhumanly large eyes so deep a red they were nearly black, the pupils barely discernable. Her head lifted and turned as she
gazed at a slender animal muzzle. Tall, fox-like ears replaced those that had been small and delicate. She moaned. The figure in
the mirror moaned with her. Bright white teeth glinted from her open mouth. They appeared very sharp. All of them. Two of
them especially long. She snapped her mouth shut and flinched at the sound -- reminiscent of the warning cock of a gun. Fear
mixed with denial caused her fur to rise. She groaned in pain, dried and sticky fur pinching and pulling. As her fur rose in fear,
so rose wings, dark and leathery. She gasped in disbelief, staring as they spread wide. Her world spun and went dark.

***

Dream. Dream. It must be a dream. She did not open her eyes this time. It's night now. It wasn't before, she thought.
How would I know that? Her arms stretched out at her sides, her fingers running through the cool plush carpet. Deep
breaths, girl. Open 'em slow this time.

She opened first one, then the other eye. No change. She still lay within the confines of the same room in which she'd
fainted. On the floor. In front of that damned mirror.

"All right, Orchid. It's a dream. Remember that. A dream." She jerked at the sound of her voice. Deep and husky, like an
old smoker, with an odd vibratto.

She sat up and shook her head, regretting the movement as the world in her vision struggled to remain upright. Dizzy, she
tried to examine her surroundings. Big bedroom. A tall four poster bed sat against a wall, covered in plush comforters and soft
furs. All of them dark in color. Wow. Some place, she thought as, still struggling with her equilibrium -- which seemed
determined for her to be horizontal rather than vertical -- she began searching for a phone. I have to call someone. Find out
where I am.

Shivering, she stumbled into an adjoining room, a lavish bath, the tub huge and sunken into the floor, surrounded by unlit
candles. Something niggled at her. Cloves. I smell cloves. She turned, facing a shower. That too was larger than any she'd
seen. Built from authentic marble. She stared a moment at the dark gray-veined stone, drawing her hand across the cool
surface, stopping on ornate brass fittings. She stepped inside, the shower large enough to accommodate at least three generous-
sized people.

Still in a daze and feeling the tight pull of the dried blood, Orchid opened the tap full force, letting it run hot. She stared, her
mind blank as steam began to fill the room. She reduced the heat and stepped under the flow. In that wet warmth she tried the
familiar action of cleansing herself, becoming frustrated with every move she made. Wings. They moved constantly and kept
hitting her in the face. Especially as she tried to remove the stained shift she wore. Tears threatened to spill again as she
struggled with her new appendages. With that emotion, the leathery limbs relaxed and hung limp. The water felt heavy, making
her tall ears droop. She stared at the water as it rushed from her body in a hot, red-tinged torrent.

Slowly she sank to the floor, letting the water wash over her as she searched her memories and found nothing. Vague
images were all she could grasp and they quickly fled as she tried to focus, leaving her head throbbing. Crying out in frustration
she slammed her fist against the marble wall, stopping in surprise as she felt the tile crack beneath her hand. "Oh, you've got to
be kidding," she laughed, hysterically, and continued to laugh, tears streaming down her face. Eventually the laughter ran out,
leaving her exhausted.

The water had long run clear when her head finally lifted. She reached out, shutting off the flow, leaving a silence broken
only by the sound of water dripping rhythmically from her body.

So much hot running water...this place must be expensive, she thought inanely, still in shock as she stepped from the
shower.

She rubbed a plush towel vigorously over her body, stroking that dark velvety surface forward, then backward, opposite
the direction in which the fur grew, jerking as her muscles twitched in quite the same way she had seen many a horse's flank
spasm when irritated by an insect. She repeated the motion several times, fascinated. After a moment she sighed heavily,
shook her head and moved to the outer room where she peered again into the mirror, slowly pressing her hand against the cool
surface, testing it's solidity. "Hello Alice," she whispered to the figure there, staring a long while, trying again to
remember...anything.

Random flickering scenes filled her mind as she recalled bits and pieces of an argument. Her hand lifted, brushing her cheek
where a bruise had been forming the night before. She could find no sign of that trauma through the fine fur. Only a dull ache
remained.

Orchid did, however, find a deep gash under the short shock of hair on her head, probably accounting for the throbbing
there, and most likely her loss of memory. Her hands traced a thread thin line curving around her neck that caused the fur to
grow with a slight irregularity, reminding her of the many dogs she'd seen whose necks bore similar marks caused by the collars
they'd worn. This mark, upon closer examination, appeared to be a newly healed wound.

She stared at herself. Her face. Her wings. Orchid's heart sank as her jaws clenched. "So, I'm a bat." They laughed
together, she and that figure in the mirror, hysteria coloring their mirth. "Right. And my name is Rumpelstiltskin."

She sat down on the huge bed within the room, buried her face in her hands, and cried.