East (Chapter Two, page 1 of 33)


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Cold. So cold. I breathed in water and choked, toppled into darkness and awoke again only for the world to appear as if I were gazing at the blue sky from the bottom of a pond.

More darkness.

More light.

And always so cold.

The cycle went on like some sort of horrific nightmare I wasn't quite able to pull out of. The first sense that appeared to work correctly was that of sound, and I heard the strangest noise, one so unusual and gone so fast, I wasn't able to capture whether or not I really heard it let alone determine what it was.

Tingling of my skin came next, followed quickly by smell. My stomach was roiling, my limbs wooden and mind either too far ahead or too far behind. Either way, I was scared.

Light burst upon me as if the sun had dawned in my face and nowhere else. At once, my senses caught up, and I reeled at the whorl of color, scents, voices, and sensation.

Rolling onto my stomach, I threw up. I blinked away tears and grimaced at the mess beneath me. It was black, oily, as if I'd vomited motor oil.

The world began to right itself, and I wiped tears from my eyes and rolled onto my side. I was on a table, covered by a blanket. It wasn't exactly comfortable.

"Your name is Moonbeam?" someone asked with a combination of cautious curiosity and disbelief.

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