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Kill Your Heroes

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You wake up in a bed of golden flowers.



The first thing she noticed was that she was warm.

It wasn't the warm of blankets, or the warm of a heated room. She could tell, even with her eyes closed, that this was the tingling warmth of sunlight. It bathed the entirety of her body, and cut through even her closed eyelids in a warm, radiant red.

She opened her eyes, sun blinding her and making her shut them immediately. She grunted, closing her eyes hard enough that the red light filtering through her eyelids turned black, before slowly opening her eyes again.


Finley cringed. Through narrowed eyes, she was staring up, towards a hole high up above her and into the blinding light of the sun, shining like a star in the darkness.

Which, well, it kinda was.

She shifted awkwardly, hearing a rustling as she lifted her arm up and used her hand to blot out the light. She blinked away the afterimages, letting her eyes adjust to the lack of light, and realized she was staring up through craggy rocks and stalagmites at a hole in the ceiling. She turned her head quickly, from one side to the other, taking in the... cave... she was laying in, a feeling of bewilderment filling her.

Where the heck was she?

What's going on...?

She quickly reached back, pushing herself up, hand buried in the greenery under a large smattering of butter yellow flowers. She glanced around, taking in the lone patch of flowers she'd found herself in and the half-lit walls of the cave surrounding her.

Her eyebrows drew together. Something about the area was... off. She shook her head, looking down at the flowers and over the walls, the niggling feeling of discomfort distracting her from taking it all in. She blinked her eyes, brushing her hand through her hair, mind returning to how she'd gotten here. Nothing really jumped out at her. She tried to remember what came before waking up here... but her mind came back oddly blank. The last thing she could remember was sitting in the car and--




Her brain went into overdrive, trying to connect that with laying in a patch of yellow flowers in a cave, and failing. She knew that if she'd hit her head hard enough that she'd probably get retrograde and anterograde amnesia, and manage to forget everything before and after the... the 'crash', but that still didn't tell her anything about how she managed to get here. Or why she still seemed to remember everything else just fine.

Or why she didn't feel like death despite basically driving off the edge of a cliff. Or despite any of the other things she'd been doing at the time. She thought she'd at least be a little hung over.

You aren't... you aren't them, are you?

She frowned, turning her head, gazing upwards, blinking at the sun mindlessly, fully aware that the only thing making her head hurt right now was the burning light in her eyes. Well. Whatever. She'll figure it out as soon as she's able to figure out where the heck she is, she imagines -- things will likely make a lot more sense after that.

She shakily moves to push herself up, before stopping. She took in her... well, rather odd choice of clothes. She looks down her front, frowning at the pair of overalls and the purple striped sweater she was wearing, another wave of discomfort rushing over her. That was just weird -- she hadn't worn overalls since she was a kid. She didn't even own any.

Wherever she was, she was walking around with clothes that weren't hers. Which was... weird, but she could live with that. This whole situation was weird, so it kinda fit. She ignored the uneasy feeling settling in her gut.

With a grunt she finally pushed herself up to her feet, only to be met with a weird feeling of near-vertigo as the shift in perspective hit her, stumbling. She blinked, looking around oddly. Everything seemed... oddly proportioned. Maybe it was the cave she was in? She glanced around suspiciously, taking in the glowing beams left by the shaft of sunlight and the slow drifts of pollen dancing in the air.

I don't notice anything.

It suddenly hit her, eyes taking in the dip in the wall as it met the floor -- an odd feeling that she might as well be sitting at a desk, despite the fact that she was standing up. Her head tilted to the side, confused, before glancing back behind her again. Nothing specific jumped out at her -- not the flowers, or the light, or the walls of the cave. It was like everything, as one, was all pointing in some unknown direction that she didn't know.

She rubbed her arm, feeling suddenly uneasy, before stopping. She felt up her arm, pressing her fingers into the fleshy parts of her shoulder, hair-raising feeling spreading out over her skin.

Her arm wasn't... wasn't shaped right. Where was her extra pudge? She patted herself down, and was immediately hit by the feeling that something was not right. She's always been a bit chubby, to put it lightly, but the curves and rolls and the underlying hard surfaces of her body disappeared in the delicate search of her fingers. Her stomach had smoothed out slightly, as had her sides. The jut of her hips was gone. And, reaching up, there was the sudden realization that, not only was she not wearing a bra, but that under the overalls her chest was just covered with baby fat.

She looked down her body again, mind panicking, and was hit with the sudden feeling that the ground was too close. Her legs where straight as could be, but it felt like she was crouching, and her feet where... they where... smaller.

Everything was smaller.

She stared, and stared, eyes focused solely on her tiny little feet. She lifted her hand, staring down, down at her palm. The scar under her thumb is missing, and her palm is so, so small, and...


These aren't really her hands, are they?

I'm... I'm not me anymore...

An overwhelming feeling surfaced in her mind, and she waited for the scenery to fade away like it did in a dream. It didn't. She turned her head up, staring up at the hole in the ceiling, catching sight of blue sky edging around the overwhelmingly bright sun, clenching her hands until her knuckles protested and her nails dug into her palms. Her eyes where wide. It didn't hurt enough.

She then whipped her head around, lifted her arm up, and punched herself in the thigh as hard as she could. She cursed -- high pitched even despite being under her breath. That stung like a motherfucker. More than it usually did.

Wait, stop!

...But did that mean she wasn't really dreaming?

She quickly walked away from the flowers, light falling away from her body, and towards the closest cave wall. She reached up, tugging up the left sleeve of her sweater past her elbow, before letting out a choked cry as she slammed the side of her arm into the rock.


A shock of pain went up her arm, and she had to bite her teeth and purse her lips to hold back the hiss as her face scrunched up in pain, breathing in sharply. Okay. Hitting walls on an adrenaline high was a no-no. It didn't even shake, like the walls in her room. It was definitely as solid as it looked.

She took a step back, into the light and the flowers. She rubbed at her arm and prodding at the sore spots around her wrist, where she was sure to bruise.

But then, her hand slowly fell away, realization creeping up on her mind. If it didn't feel like her body, and it didn't look like her body, and she definitely wasn't dreaming, then this really wasn't her--

You're okay, you're okay. You don't have to do this-

Finley took another shaky step back, horror creeping its way up into her brain. She felt her mind corkscrew, and immediately went about remedying the sudden twist in her thoughts as tension squeezed up her back and settled over her shoulders. Use a tool -- use a goddamned tool.


You're okay.

She closed her eyes tight, falling to her knees. She breathed in like a hiccup, hands coming up to cover her mouth as hot tears started rolling down her face.



You wake up in a bed of golden flowers, confused. Weren't you just...?