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There is nothing more frightening than to be perfectly helpless in a blinded situation. As the darkness carefully weaves itself around her wrists and her ankles, the single scream of Remi tears itself across the house. Vera's eyes snap open in a single heart's beat, her heart frantic and her mind still foggy with heavy sleep.
Her quickly flings the wool blankets off of her body and gets to her feet. The chilly midnight air bites at her skin, nibbling at her flesh until she if left with small little shivers and large masses fear. But in that moment, Vera could hardly notice the cold, for her blood has gone numb, the feeling of utter despair slowly swallowing her whole.
Vera takes small, hesitant steps across the creaking wooden floorboards. Although her mind screams at her to run, her body refuses to obey, her movements rigid and strained.
The fear covers her legs and coats her arms in slowness, in a way that could be only described as paralyzing. But something wakes her from her state of terror, something that has her heart tearing out of her chest. It is the same taunting sound that had resonated in her ears just hours before.
She hears a hollow singing of shattering glass, all followed by a soft pitter patter as the shards fall onto the wooden floors above her.
And she breaks into a run. The fear that had contained her feet to the ground below her is torn away as she rips her bare feet away from the wood, her heart pounding in her ears as she sprints into down the halls. Vera can taste the salty metallic taste of her blood in her mouth, she could not remember when she had bitten her lip so hard that it started bleeding. Her eyes scan the peeling graying walls around her as she flitted past them, making sure there is nothing that can grab her by surprise.
It has been a very long time since she has felt such a strange surge of energy boiling in her veins. She cannot even hear her the sound of her feet padding against the floorboard, and for a moment, Vera is almost sure that as she is dashing into the kitchen, that she is almost soundless.
Vera catches the sight of the doorway to the kitchen underneath the dim moonlight. She swiftly dashes to the counter to grab the kitchen knife before sprinting up the stairs above her. There is no time for Vera to over compensate over her actions, nor was there any time for her to worry about the loudness of her ragged breathing.
The knife is heavy in her right hand, its weight rather unfamiliar to her, its hilt bulky within her tight grasp. Vera takes a small, shallow breath, her heart no longer beating as her slender fingers naturally adjust to the knife. Her arm is steady in place, poised in a strange yet familiar position, all ready to swing at any moment. A surge of burning flame courses in her chest, the heat of it rather welcoming than frightening. It is as if in a moment's notice, someone one has doused her body in gasoline and lit up her veins with a touch of fire.
With her body ignited by the licks of flame and sharp adrenaline, Vera swiftly reaches the top of the stairs and searches for her room amidst the darkness, before making out the blurry shape of her bedroom door. Another crash slices through the air from behind it, followed by echoes of falling shards of glass. Tiny pieces of the clear fractures escape past the bottom gaps of her bedroom door, scattering around the wooden floor in front of her.
