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.⋆｡⋆🩸˚｡⋆｡˚🌗˚｡⋆. ◟ ✦ What now? ❞
A SINGLE RAINDROP dropped down from a towering pine, directly onto the nose of Blair Luna Knight. She scrunched her face, half asleep, and brushed it off. With a groggy sigh, she shifted onto her side, nestling deeper into what she assumed was her bed.
A faint, damp sensation lingered on her arm, but Luna, hovering between sleep and wakefulness, was too tired to question it. She lazily draped her arms over her stomach, seeking comfort on her back.
Minutes ticked by, and the nagging wetness became too much to ignore. Groaning, Luna propped herself up on one elbow, her head resting where she thought her headboard should be.
She reached up to scratch her scalp, expecting to feel the smooth fabric of her bonnet, only to encounter her long braids instead. A fleeting thought crossed her mind—she must have forgotten to put it on last night. Annoyed, she made a mental note not to do it again; she had just spent hours on these braids, and she didn't want them ruined.
Still half-asleep, Luna wiped her eyes and reached out to where her nightstand should be. Her fingers touched cold, damp earth instead of the familiar wood. Her brow furrowed, but her sleep-clouded mind remained oblivious.
She resisted the urge to open her eyes, knowing that doing so would pull her fully into wakefulness, but the strange, moist texture nagged at her. Reluctantly, she cracked one eye open, expecting to see her room—only to find dirt.
"What the hell?" Luna muttered, fully awake now. She grabbed a handful of the soil, letting it slip through her fingers. She wiped her eyes again, trying to dispel the remnants of sleep.
Pine needles, leaves, and dirt were scattered around her. Above, the sky was a dull gray, framed by the tall, imposing silhouettes of pine trees. She looked down at herself, still dressed in the cotton-candy blue satin pajamas she'd worn to bed.
Using the rough bark of a nearby tree, she pulled herself to her feet, wincing as a sharp pain shot through her head. Her temples throbbed, and as she massaged them, she felt bits of tree bark tangled in her braids. Frustrated, she picked at the debris, though she knew some would remain stuck.
Taking in her surroundings, Luna brushed off the dirt and leaves clinging to her clothes. She was in the middle of a forest—there was no doubt about that. But the bigger question loomed: why? How had she ended up here? She wasn't a sleepwalker, and the idea of being kidnapped seemed both absurd and terrifying.
Her thoughts raced until a rustling sound nearby froze her in place. Her heart pounded as she instinctively backed away from the source of the noise. She wanted to call out, to demand who—or what—was there, but every horror movie she'd ever seen warned against it.
