Straight-Up Not Having A Good Time At Night Raven College: Prologue

Prologue: The Curtain Rises

It was dark.

It was dark and yet, for some reason, she could see.

Her eyes were closed, but even so, images flashed in front of her. A spacious room filled with darkness, not a cheap, shabby darkness filled with dust and emptiness. This was a lavish, ornate darkness.
Faint gleams, silken rustlings of an invisible, richly clothed crowd, standing with bated breath-- cut together with glimpses of a dark, eerie forest.

Spoked wheels rumbled across the ground-- hitting a small bump, she felt herself jerk and sway.
She could feel the sensation of movement- was she in a car? No, there was-- were those hoofsteps?
She wasn't fully conscious, just barely at the edge, and no matter how she struggled, she couldn't seem to wake up.
Her body felt heavy, but her head was floating....

Now it was the room again. Something lit up in the center-- a tiered fountain, glowing an eerie green, with a shape hovering above it.

There was the clack of a footstep, and a voice spoke.

"Ah-- my dear, esteemed benefactor," it said. It was a masculine voice, not particularly deep-pitched, but smooth and articulate, with a note of dramatic pride.

"My proud, beautiful flower of evil..."

Another step forward.

"You are truly the fairest one of all."

Is it talking to me...?

She shifted, with a soft moan-- her limbs felt like lead. She couldn't even roll over...

Lying on her back, her hands were clasped at her stomach, almost like she was Sleeping...

Sleeping....

O-Or maybe Snow...

What was she just trying to remember? The names of-- of...

Why couldn't she think of them now? Were they people she knew?

They felt familiar, like friends she'd had when she was really young, but the more she tried to recall them, the less she could grasp.

One more step, and the shape above the fountain grew clearer-- it looked like an oval window with an ornate frame, looking out into a sea of bright green fire.

"O magic mirror, thy wisdom I entreat," the voice implored, like an actor delivering a grand soliloquy. "Reveal unto me the visage I seek..."

More rumblings of the wheels, and the familiar huff and snort of a horse.
A horse...
When was the last time she'd even seen a horse in person?
Was this a carriage or a stagecoach or something? Why was she in it?
She tried to move again, but still couldn't do more than shift weakly.

Her mind was still fuzzy and indistinct, but the panic was starting to rise-- this wasn't normal; this was wrong.
She was draped in some kind of thick, heavy fabric-- brocade, or silk? Whatever it was, it definitely wasn't her bedding, or any clothes she'd wear to lie down in any position.
For some goddamn reason, she couldn't think of any possible explanations for what was going on-- there were possible explanations, but she just wasn't lucid enough to grasp any of them...

"You, whose image the Dark Mirror did beckon forth," the voice intoned solemnly, echoing in her head like the boom in her chest during a fireworks show.