Cat Eyes || Tomtord

Reincarnation

Tom awoke warm. Oddly warm, like there was a body next him. But all around him was warm, so that didn't make much sense. Maybe just the blanket? The sun was just shining on the blanket, making it warm. He thought that was strange, he always had his blinds closed.

He noticed that he could not open his eyes. As if there was a surplus of eye gunk in his, gluing them shut. Tom does have eyes, they just have inhumanly large pupils. He tried again, nope. There would be no way to just open them.

He attempted to reach up with his hand but found that he could not. His arms- hell, his entire body felt numb. Numb and warm. His arm finally found his face. It felt weird. Too big and round. What the hell did he drink last night?

He found himself searching for something. Though, he didn't understand what. A big part of him just said to go towards something. Now, he realized that there was a presence. Two beside him and one larger one in front of him. He didn't panic quite then, it just started to settle in that he might not be where he should be.

He absentmindedly wiggled towards the thing in front of him. Again, he had no clue why it was so important that he get to the thing. He realized that the other warm objects beside him were also moving. His mouth found its way onto a small nub. He was confused at what it was, why he wanted it so badly.

Something just told him to suck on the thing in front of him. He mentally gave the imagined voice a confused look but obeyed his strange order. He was rewarded with warm liquid. Milk? It tasted similar to milk but with something else.

Then his thoughts hit him like a train. Where am I? What are those things beside me? What am I drinking? What did I drink last night? What happened last night? Why is everything so warm? Am I dead?

Am I dead? That questions stopped the flow. He continued to reenact the last day he remembered in his mind. Tord. Did Tord survive the explosion and kill him in his sleep?

What kind of heaven is this? he thought. Definitely not what I thought.

His thoughts were interrupted by a weak jab and a push to the side, forcing him away from the nutrients. For some reason, he actually really wanted that stuff! Thus, he shoved the body next to him and wiggled back over to the bigger body.

He thought about death a bit more and decided that he wasn't dead. He couldn't be, this wasn't the afterlife he was expecting so it wasn't an afterlife.

He thoughts were interrupted, yet again, by a large, sandpaper-like thing scrapping across his back. He was going to shout at the thing but all that came out was a strangled mewl.

This is a drunk dream, Tom decided. But this was too realistic. Usually, his drunk dreams were fast and hard to remember. This was slow and way too realistic for comfort.

The sandpaper object continue to brush along his back. It felt comforting, as if he should be enjoying it. He should be grateful of the objects, or something like that. He should love the little bundles of warmth beside him.

His stomach is content with the amount of fluid it has so he lets go of its source, allowing another body to take his place. He tries to cry out for someone, anyone to save him or for his scream to wake himself up but all that comes out was a low, shaky screech.

What the fuck is going on!? He yells to himself. He tries to blindly get up but stumbles over. His arms and legs feel weak and misplaced. Everything sounds muffled. He feels as if he no longer has teeth. Even though everything is weird and he should be freaking out he feels a calming sense. Everything is okay, it is all natural.

He tries talking, trying to say any sort of normal sentence but all is unclear, it comes out as growls and mewls.

Drowsiness suddenly washes over him. He tries to fight it, freaking out that if he falls asleep he might not wake.

He attempts to scream for Edd, Matt, his parents, even to Tord, but nothing even close to their names can tumble out of his mouth. He begins thrashing, struggling for some kind of thing that will allow him to see, allow him to know what is going on! But all he receives is a sandpaper object sliding over him repeatedly as he falls into slumber.