Waking Up, cont.
Things are not as they seem
Transmigrated Teri is a WIP that is part of a “post 200 words a day during July” challenge issued by
. 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: Teri wakes up from what she assumed would be a fatal car accident in a strange place, and nothing makes sense.
“Mmph.” She grumbled, trying to gather her thoughts. She had obviously been in a catastrophic accident, and she was mostly surprised she was alive at all. She had to assume Theo was dead, which made her stomach flip a little. He had been dumb and annoying but he had been her puppy, once upon a time, no matter that her mother had basically stolen him when she moved in with Teri five years ago.
“Can you tell me how you feel, currently?”
“Headache,” she rasped.
He hummed, and she assumed he was probably writing a prescription. She wondered if she had any IV lines, which seemed likely but she could not feel them. That brought up a new worry.
“Paralyzed?”
“What? Oh no, milady, you are not paralyzed. I’m…displeased with the healing of your right leg, but it is early days yet.”
She was already dreading all the physical therapy in her future. And she was a little creeped out by all the fedora-nice-guy “miladies” going on. It was extremely unprofessional. She already knew his name, thanks to the kids who had clearly come into the wrong room, but she needed more info. “Hospital?”
“Hm?”
“Which…hospital? My mother, she’s home alone.”
There was a long pause. “Your…mother?”
She took a deep breath and forced herself to open her eyes. Light hurt, and she knew she was opening the door wide for the migraine to come in and have a seat instead of hovering around the edges of her consciousness, but she needed to figure things out.
Squinting and blinking, she looked around. “Am I…am I in a hotel room? What the actual fuck? I can’t afford this!”
It was gorgeous. She was under a heavy and heavily embroidered, brightly colored quilt on a gigantic four poster bed, brocaded curtains tied back with fancy, twisted cords. The room itself had several tall, narrow windows that were edged with stained glass, bright and sparkling in the nearly-pink sunlight. Everything in the room screamed expensive and tacky in the way of a tourist-trap-style European castle trying for a “medieval but make it luxurious” vibe. Not that she had ever been in one, but she enjoyed travel websites as much as the next lower middle class working stiff.
“Cannot…afford? Milady, if you please—” the doctor said, leaning over her with a hand held out cautiously, as if he was wary of touching her.
“What are you wearing?” She tried to pull back from him. He was dressed in a burgundy red and pink outfit that looked like three layers of fancy bathrobes with a belt so wide it could have been a girdle. Maybe it was. She blinked her eyes.
“My robes of station?” He frowned at her.
She tried to flap her hand at him but her body screamed in pain. Collapsing back down all the way with a gasp, she stared at the lovely and ridiculous draperies covering the bed before closing her eyes again, taking a deep breath to try to focus. The migraine was marching up on her consciousness at full speed.
“Look, Mom is home alone, and—” she started to say, but then felt a hard tap in the middle of her forehead and everything went dark again. She thought she heard barking as she drifted away.
Ooo, Teri. Things are a'changing!