delirium [ self-para with vinnie ]

Subject: delirium [ self-para with vinnie ] Fri Jan 25, 2013 3:26 pm

Vincent Thomas Belanov

Vinnie was sick. Sicker than the normal person who had been infected with the flu. All he’d been doing for the past twelve hours was lying in his bed, rolling back and forth on his back, stricken with coughs. He was wrapped in thick quilts, his skin glistening with a thick sheen of sweat. The room was warm, moist and dark, the air heavy with bacteria. The son of Hermes rolled over onto his back, letting out a groan. A coughing spasm wracked the eighteen year old, causing him to sit up in the bed and double over in pain from the heavy, wet coughs. Vinnie pulled his knees to his chest and cradled his head against his joints. Another coughing fit violently attacked the boy and he flung his arm over his face, using the lightweight material as a catch-all for the germs. Perspiration slipped down his face and dropped onto his already wet shirt. The shirt was clinging to him from all the bodily fluids that his skin was releasing. Vinnie grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled upwards, yanking it off of him.
His skin was almost literally steaming in the darkness from the high fever he had. Vinnie flopped back down in his bed, closing his eyes. He drew a deep breath in through his mouth and easily fell into unconsciousness.
Within a few hours of his departure from consciousness, Vinnie was awake again. This time however, his reality was shrouded in a thin veil of delirium. His dresser and other pieces of furniture grew huge all of a sudden, jumping around and dancing with the shadows on his walls. Terrified, the demigod shrunk back into his bed, his heart pumping hard. “Help,” he moaned weakly, his voice cracking with the sickness. The dresser and his chair and desk grew angry faces with demented features and strange expressions. They lumbered over to him and just stood there idly, almost as if they were waiting. Within the moments of their stillness, a strange calmness hung in the air. The kind of calmness that happened before a storm hit hard.
Suddenly, each of the pieces of furniture turned into his family members. His mother one, his father another, and the little boy who died in the accident another. Vinnie’s normally light, amber eyes were dark with fear and terror as each one of them began to speak. They spoke with rapid words, leaving Vinnie unable to understand them. The shirtless, terrified and fever-induced demigod clambered out of his bed and fell to the floor, his back hitting the cold oak with a thud. He rolled to his feet and shakily stood. The desk and dresser neared him, reaching out to him with their wooden arms and hands. “Get back!” The boy shouted weakly, looking around for help. The only thing he saw was a dagger sitting on his desk. It gleamed in the moving shadows and Vin snatched it off the table by the blade without thinking and proceeding to slice his hands open. The open cut didn’t even faze the boy, though. He turned the dagger around and shouted, “Get away from me! Get away!” His voice was no shout, though. It was a weak, broken whisper.
And with that shout, Vin choked on a sob and blinked, the furniture instantly returning to their original spots. Confused, the dagger fell from his hand and hit the floor with a sharp thud. The son of Hermes dropped to his knees and wrapped his bloody arms around himself, rocking on the floor.
More spasms rocketed through his body, this time each one having to do with his temperature. Vin felt like his organs were on fire but at the same time thought he was sitting in a blizzard in Antarctica. He rolled onto his back, grappling with his shirt again and struggling it over his head. Vin let out a whimper when he climbed back into bed as a starry night sky appeared over his head. He was so confused but felt oddly at peace when he watched a comet shoot above his head. With a shaking, bloody and sweaty hand, he reached out to try and grab the stars, the picture materializing at his touch. An upset expression crossed Vin’s features and with that, the demigod fell back into his pillow, unconscious with a 105 degree fever.

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