Edgar finds himself in a dark, dirty space of indeterminate size and purpose. What light makes it through the dingy windowpanes only serves to highlight the gloom, casting a silvery pall over his surroundings. Even as his eyes grow accustomed to the darkness, he sticks out his hand, palm flattened, expecting Almondine to nudge her head under it. When she doesn't, he pats the hand against his leg to call for her, squinting around for a door. When she still doesn't appear, Edgar, concern growing, looks around the room for her.
At first, he doesn't notice the body. It's lying not far from the wall opposite him, in a patch of shadow, but even as his eyes pass over its dark shape, the light shifts so that it is fully illuminated. His body recognizes the person a second before he does, going completely tense in the heartbeat it takes for his brain to catch up.
Edgar stares into the open, unseeing eyes of his father and collapses to the floor, his knees giving out beneath him. Mind and body fight against one another for a minute as he struggles to both crawl to his father and run away. Then he gets his feet under him again and stumbles to the body. He hesitates for the space of a breath before placing a hand on his father's still chest, the other in front of his mouth. There is no sign of breathing, and his pulls his hands away as if stung, glancing around frantically for help.
He spots a telephone on a nearby table and fumbles his way to it. He doesn't even check for a dial tone before jamming a finger at the '0' button and pressing the receiver to his ear. After two rings, a tinny voice comes on the line, asking how to direct the call. Edgar, in a panic, takes a deep breath. As he releases it, he slams a fist against his chest, trying to drive sound out of his body. All that he manages is a soft grunt, and hearing it makes his stomach drop.
He knows this. This is all so familiar, so horribly familiar and yet not right, not exactly the same. He drops the receiver, the voice still sounding from the earpiece, and backs away until his back hits a wall. Sliding down to sit on the floor, he draws his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them, eyes glued to the body of his father, staring at him from across the room.
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At first, he doesn't notice the body. It's lying not far from the wall opposite him, in a patch of shadow, but even as his eyes pass over its dark shape, the light shifts so that it is fully illuminated. His body recognizes the person a second before he does, going completely tense in the heartbeat it takes for his brain to catch up.
Edgar stares into the open, unseeing eyes of his father and collapses to the floor, his knees giving out beneath him. Mind and body fight against one another for a minute as he struggles to both crawl to his father and run away. Then he gets his feet under him again and stumbles to the body. He hesitates for the space of a breath before placing a hand on his father's still chest, the other in front of his mouth. There is no sign of breathing, and his pulls his hands away as if stung, glancing around frantically for help.
He spots a telephone on a nearby table and fumbles his way to it. He doesn't even check for a dial tone before jamming a finger at the '0' button and pressing the receiver to his ear. After two rings, a tinny voice comes on the line, asking how to direct the call. Edgar, in a panic, takes a deep breath. As he releases it, he slams a fist against his chest, trying to drive sound out of his body. All that he manages is a soft grunt, and hearing it makes his stomach drop.
He knows this. This is all so familiar, so horribly familiar and yet not right, not exactly the same. He drops the receiver, the voice still sounding from the earpiece, and backs away until his back hits a wall. Sliding down to sit on the floor, he draws his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them, eyes glued to the body of his father, staring at him from across the room.