The last thing Melanie remembers before she wakes up in the ice-cold tundra she's in now is pain. White-hot searing pain. And the sirens of the ambulance ready to cart her off to A&E. The pain has dimmed to a dull throb, but the ache is easy to ignore when she feels the snow under her cheek. She pats blindly against the ground, only met with more of the same. The icy wetness does nothing to help her figure out where she is.
She scrambles to unsteady feet, hands stretched in front of her. Chances are, there's still blood around her injured eyes, but Melanie can't really tell. She's new to blindness, and it's obvious in the way she carries herself, steps so careful, hands a little wild in trying to find something to touch to guide her. But there's nothing.
She has a deep, sinking feeling that, wherever she is now, she's going to die here.
She's wandered for so long that the ends of her hair have frost on them, her legs feel like weights and her fingers feel absolutely frozen to the bone. She had done the only thing she could-- picked a direction and kept walking forward. She could hardly navigate herself in some unfamiliar place in her current state, so it had felt like the only option she had just to keep moving.
The longer she walked and came to seemingly nothing at all, she more she thought that somehow, she'd been captured by The Vast.
Melanie finds herself too exhausted to keep going. She seems to have been getting nowhere, despite all her efforts, and she hasn't come across a single other person yet. She isn't the giving up sort, but everything feels too big, too open, too hopeless, and she can't see. How in the bloody hell is she supposed to get anywhere? So she just drops where she stands and instead sits on the snow-covered ground, hoping like hell someone might find her before she freezes to death.
Melanie King | The Magnus Archives
She scrambles to unsteady feet, hands stretched in front of her. Chances are, there's still blood around her injured eyes, but Melanie can't really tell. She's new to blindness, and it's obvious in the way she carries herself, steps so careful, hands a little wild in trying to find something to touch to guide her. But there's nothing.
She has a deep, sinking feeling that, wherever she is now, she's going to die here.
She's wandered for so long that the ends of her hair have frost on them, her legs feel like weights and her fingers feel absolutely frozen to the bone. She had done the only thing she could-- picked a direction and kept walking forward. She could hardly navigate herself in some unfamiliar place in her current state, so it had felt like the only option she had just to keep moving.
The longer she walked and came to seemingly nothing at all, she more she thought that somehow, she'd been captured by The Vast.
Melanie finds herself too exhausted to keep going. She seems to have been getting nowhere, despite all her efforts, and she hasn't come across a single other person yet. She isn't the giving up sort, but everything feels too big, too open, too hopeless, and she can't see. How in the bloody hell is she supposed to get anywhere? So she just drops where she stands and instead sits on the snow-covered ground, hoping like hell someone might find her before she freezes to death.