High Society: The tales from Victory

WAR [Part VI] (Chapter 27)

Haze. 

Her body felt as if it were subjected into a turmoil. Heat swathed her body, grabbing her like a sweet lover full of passion. It pulled her into weakness as sweat drenched her body. Her breathes were heavy, as she stirred into consciousness.

She pushed herself up and looked at the area around her. It was brightly illuminated, like a never ending noon. The area around her was bleached white, stone like marble. The stone was hot to the touch, almost good enough to sizzle fresh meat on. Around her, clouds of steam pushed upward, creating a curtain of fog that she couldn't see past.

She rested her hands on her chest. Her head felt light, almost as if her being stirred awake was some form of emergency mechanic of her body. Her breathing was light, but it was so hard to breath in general. It was almost suffocating.

She stared at her arms, only a thin bracelet remain on her wrist. She looked at her dress, now having some wear and tear streaking up her spine. Fortunately, she was still considered decent. Although the clips in her hair were also swept away, thus the flood left her hair a mess that draped over her face like a damp blanket of moss.

She reached up for the stone wall. She desperately grabbed it and tried to pull herself up. Vanessa struggled with getting on her feet, now noticing one of the heels of her shoes was ripped off. However, she still managed to get to her two feet. She was met face to face with a large engraving of the words WAR. 

This paralyzed her. An echo ricocheted through her mind, a jumbled mess of melancholic moments. She turned around to the steam, a silhouette formed. It was a large robust male, in the shape of authority. She could even hear the sound of his cane striking stone. "This is the price of what we do. The price of War."

Then the visage took another shape, now in the leaner form of a prodigy It took of its top hat and hung it up on what may have been a coat hanger. "You think you're in Hell?" The silhouette laughed, "No no no, this isn't Hell. Hell is only full of mongrels and sinners. Innocents like yourself wouldn't be ensnared in Hell. You can tell this isn't Hell." He threw out his coat and adjusted his bow tie. "No, this is War…"

The silhouette faded from her sight and she stared at the emptiness. Her hands felt empty, in this sense of something missing. She cried out, "Ponderosa?!" 

She repeatedly cried out for her savior to come and rescue her from the isolation she found herself in. She collapsed back into the heated stone and looked around exasperated, her head beginning to feel lighter and lighter. She hoped for an answer, but all she could hear was the soft hissing of steam and the roiling bubbles punching through the surface of the water.

She stumbled forward and tried her best to peek down at the steam's source. However as she did, she failed to look past the stream that licked her flesh, leaving red marks on her body.

She jumped back, flailing her hands in the air as if to swat at the assailing steam. As she did, more of her exposed arms were licked further. However, in that instance the steam cleared closer to her face to see a large cave behind the curtain of scalding air.

Vanessa recoiled her arms. She brought her arms up to her face and tried to cover her light burns with her hands. She pressed her lips on the more serious burns, lightly kissing it better. A smile curled on her face, a gentle and sadistic pleasure on her face.

She then looked back to the steam. She grabbed the lower parts of her skirt and began to pull. She tugged and tugged, trying not to make it too short, she didn't want Jeremiah's lecherous gaze to rest on her too long. She only needed her Beloved Ponderosa's gaze.

"Damn, these are designers too!" Vanessa claimed as she was finally able to rip the fabric. With each hand she grabbed each end of the skirt and wrapped her hands in them as a measure of protection. She then fanned with all her might and little stamina.