Transmigrated Teri is a WIP that is part of a “post 200 words a day during July” challenge issued by Gina Hogan Edwards. Episodes posted daily will be of various lengths and sometimes will stop in the middle of the scene. You have been warned!
The set up:
Teri Travers, a nearly-50 bitter “office lady” who has not led a happy life gets in a massive car accident after being sent home on the first day of COVID lockdown in 2020. She (and her dog) wake up in a strange new world that is also strangely familiar…that’s right, she’s been transmigrated into the world of her favorite 1990s fantasy novel series, the massively popular, critically disdained, and incredibly tropetastic Allisar Fireborn Chronicles by the infamous Chadwick Jarvaldson, aka “Fuckin’ Chad” to all his very annoyed fans who are still waiting for the final book to be published.
Previously: She put on her most simplistic smile and tried to look forlorn and confused. “Can you please tell me who you think I am?”
The woman lowered her handkerchief and eyed Teri warily. Maybe she was not as much of a pushover as she thought.
You’ve known her since you were a puppy!
Thanking Theo silently in her head (Theo’s tail thumped happily a few times, but he did not turn around), Teri tried to blink up some tears.
“You do seem familiar…as if I’ve known you for a long time?”
You are such a liar!
She kicked her good leg out to bump Theo, who grumbled. The woman, meanwhile, sniffled a little.
“Oh, milady! Yes! I have been your lady in waiting since you were but a child! Before even your very first shadow hunt!”
Teri paused. “Shadow hunt” was a term coined by Fuckin’ Chad for the Allisar Chronicles, his take on the idea of mages hunting down demons and other dangerous creatures.
“And this would be…back when we lived…in Zyphyrehon?”
She brightened up even more. “Yes! Yes! Are you remembering?”
Teri let out a gusty sigh. So, apparently, she was in a coma and this was a dream world.
I am not a dream dog!
“Shut up. I beg of you.” She ignored him as he flopped down and put a paw over his face.
The woman had perked up and was sitting on the edge of the giant upholstered chair, looking expectantly at Teri.
“How could a daughter of the ferocious Crimson Viper ever forget?” She tried not to wince as she spoke, testing the waters but also afraid of how deep they might go.
“Oh! Lady Grayrage! You do remember!” She toddled over to the bed again and grabbed Teri’s hand, her face alight with joy and relief.
Teri wondered how much she had to hate herself to dream up possessing the body of one of the most loathed step-mothers in literary history: Lady Bonarae Grayrage, the Venomous Whip of Luttiron.
Ooh, talking dog. I’m in 🐶
I've gotta feeling things are get even worse for Teri, but at least she (we) know where she is now!