[hider=Nightmare Scene, Not For the Faint of Heart! Spooky!] [hider=Ambient Background Music]If it gets too dubstep just skip to 2:20 or restart[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3h4BhNVpCAU[/youtube][/hider] [color=green]Click. Click. Click click. Click click click click clickclickclickclickclickclicklcicklcikclikclikkclkclikclc-[/color] Flat line. The world around her was grey. Particles dotted her vision and the world around her with a neon green sheen. Everything looked so familiar, so... breathtaking! So... ... dead... Chernobyl. The home before she had a home. It was a place of memory [i]before[/i] memory. And it held her mother's resting grave... The Geiger counter in her hand emitted a constant buzz of activity. A reminder of the fate which had befallen the abandoned city - this ghost town. The Ferris wheel, the apartment complex', the church... ... the power plant... She could feel herself choking as the radiation began to consume her. She could feel her lungs beginning to collapse and burn as her skin fried and tore atom by atom. Despite her pleas and cries for safe haven, for her mother, and for the sickness to go away, time ticked onward. It [i]always[/i] ticked onward. And as time ticked, things got worse. Everything began to grow dark. It was getting more and more difficult to breath. Her mind was fading, crumbling to pieces, and her senses were starting to dwindle. Life draining, death breathing down her neck with that [i]toxic[/i] nuclear breath, Elvira could issue but a single prayer... [color=lightgreen]"Please, mother... Save me..."[/color] [/hider] Elvira awoke in a cold sweat. The room dark, blurred, and apparently moving, she almost got up and screamed before realising she was just experiencing the after-effects of a horrible nightmare. [color=lightgreen]"мудак!"[/color] She exclaimed, panting heavily as her nerves began to cool. The movement of the room began to slow as her eyes adjusted to the absence of light, and she fiddled with her glasses to get a proper reading of the room: Apartment building. Bedroom, hers. Small, with a desk and a bed, plus a bookcase. Her things were still in disarray, boxes piled up in the corner by the door, and her entire room a mess of papers and random assortments of bedroom goods. Her digital clock ticked away ever so obnoxiously... Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. She was gonna sock the tock out of the clock if this kept up. Her breathing had, at last, reverted to a calm enough state, and she had the mental capacity to check the time. [color=lightgreen]"Just short of eleven, huh...? дерьмо."[/color] It was far too early for Elvira to be waking up, especially with what she had to do tomorrow. Tomorrow was Monday, and Monday meant eternal pain and suffering as the week would then begin again. And another week's worth of black coffee. She sat back in her bed and sighed, the nightmare still lingering in her mind, despite her best efforts to block it out. She [i]wanted[/i] to go to sleep, but at this rate, it would become impossible to do so. She could just tell her mind was tormenting her, sabotaging the success rate of even waking up tomorrow morning. However, Elvira had a counter-plan. It had been awhile since she'd last been out for a drink... [hr][h1]Some time later...[/h1] [color=lightgreen]"I need a bottle of vodka and a bottle of rum. No shots - I need something... bigger."[/color] She smirked at the bartender and flashed him her ID, and he nodded in understanding. "You sure?" He quizzed back simply, though Elvira's smile and money was more than enough to convince him. "It better not be all for-" [color=lightgreen]"Сэр, если у вас есть проблемы, пожалуйста, поцеловать меня в задницу."[/color] Her Russian seemed to get through to the bartender. Regardless of whether or not he spoke Russian, he had a feeling he understood what was being said, and simply handed her the two bottles. "Just make sure you don't drown." The woman giggled and eagerly uncorked the seal like a child unwrapping a present. As much as she liked vodka, she needed the dry stuff first. A simple swig had her downing at least a fifth of the thing, and the alcohol hit her like a brick. Of course, that was the point, but she didn't want to be throwing up before she got home. She needed to knock herself out with the stuff, not kill herself! It might've occurred to some of the other patrons of the Cornerstone that this individual in question was... rather unique. After all, it wasn't often one saw someone dressed in their lab coat visiting a bar, save for that one scientist on that one TV show that everyone was watching nowadays (which Elvira had gotten hooked on). ... Then again, it wasn't everyday you see a novelist at a bar, either... ... though sex-loving cam-girls were definitely popular among those that frequented the night saloon.