Post by cleopatravii on Aug 18, 2009 17:10:08 GMT -6
The cold helped her to wake up. When her coffin had been in Egypt, she had felt most comfortable, had had no desire to rise from it for centuries. Now, however, Canada’s freezing temperatures caused the ancient werewolf to gently flutter her green orbs open. (Of course she had no idea it was Canada, being as she had been asleep for a long time.) Time seemed no different to her than it had when Anthony died…but then simple moonlight caused her to see odd shapes and creations that clearly told her this was not true.
She shoved her coffin open, and sensed a strange light flicker – red in color. Where was she, anyhow? Who had dared to desecrate her tomb, and move things around?! A high pitched beeping sound caused her to growl low in her throat, and Cleopatra shoved herself out of her coffin, taking one last look at it before she slipped around the corner. Two men dressed in dark clothes (modern day policemen) came running, and had odd bars in their hands – guns– she would find out soon enough.
“I saw something, Hank! I swear! All the alarms went off and everything! Someone was down here, tryin to take something!”
“Jake, you ain’t seen nothing! Look at the place! It’s perfectly alright!” The second man said, flashing a light. It frightened Cleo at first, who thought it was fire, but then it poured over her objects, and she realized it wasn’t burning them –
“Is there something I can get you, Cleo? You look troubled.” A soft voice broke through her memories, and Cleopatra shook her head. The feeble minded archeologist wasn’t someone she ever would have willingly trusted, but he had helped her escape from the policemen almost one year ago, since she woke up, and he had catered to her every need, believing her tale and helping her to restore an abandoned art studio into a palace of sorts with all her artifacts.
“No,” The ancient once queen said to him calmly, “Thank you though Arnold. I am going out.”
“Out?” He said, scratching his scrawny, balding head. “Are you sure that is wise?”
“Yes Arnold. I have taken care of myself far longer than your existence. I think I know when it is safe to go out.” Her tone was sharp, and she sighed, softening it as she added, “I will go as a wolf, so do not worry.” In an instant she slipped out the door as a bronze colored wolf.
She walked about a half a mile, feeling the fresh cold land under her paws. In places there was still snow, as the abandoned art studio was once greatly renowned, and very private. A breeze tickled her nose and she found herself in a lovely clearing. The stars sparkled overhead, gleaming into a nearby lake, and she smiled. A perfect refuge…or was it?
She shoved her coffin open, and sensed a strange light flicker – red in color. Where was she, anyhow? Who had dared to desecrate her tomb, and move things around?! A high pitched beeping sound caused her to growl low in her throat, and Cleopatra shoved herself out of her coffin, taking one last look at it before she slipped around the corner. Two men dressed in dark clothes (modern day policemen) came running, and had odd bars in their hands – guns– she would find out soon enough.
“I saw something, Hank! I swear! All the alarms went off and everything! Someone was down here, tryin to take something!”
“Jake, you ain’t seen nothing! Look at the place! It’s perfectly alright!” The second man said, flashing a light. It frightened Cleo at first, who thought it was fire, but then it poured over her objects, and she realized it wasn’t burning them –
“Is there something I can get you, Cleo? You look troubled.” A soft voice broke through her memories, and Cleopatra shook her head. The feeble minded archeologist wasn’t someone she ever would have willingly trusted, but he had helped her escape from the policemen almost one year ago, since she woke up, and he had catered to her every need, believing her tale and helping her to restore an abandoned art studio into a palace of sorts with all her artifacts.
“No,” The ancient once queen said to him calmly, “Thank you though Arnold. I am going out.”
“Out?” He said, scratching his scrawny, balding head. “Are you sure that is wise?”
“Yes Arnold. I have taken care of myself far longer than your existence. I think I know when it is safe to go out.” Her tone was sharp, and she sighed, softening it as she added, “I will go as a wolf, so do not worry.” In an instant she slipped out the door as a bronze colored wolf.
She walked about a half a mile, feeling the fresh cold land under her paws. In places there was still snow, as the abandoned art studio was once greatly renowned, and very private. A breeze tickled her nose and she found herself in a lovely clearing. The stars sparkled overhead, gleaming into a nearby lake, and she smiled. A perfect refuge…or was it?