Log:Penitent times three
Dying isn't so bad. There's pain, and then ... no, that isn't right. She didn't die, this time. The Penitent's eyes flicker open, to behold the darkness. A sense of dread that she can't quite shake for some reason, no matter how she thinks on it. This time, like the others, she can't quite remember anything at first.
The bed is comfortable, the sheets are nice. Her nightgown is familiar. She sits up, and suddenly the lights flicker on when the system detects the movement in her room. She blinks at the sudden presence of light, lowering her gaze to stare at the bed. After a moment, she looks up to take it in.
The room is familiar, in an eerie sort of way. The sense that she's been here before remains, but the dread of is starts to be replaced with calm. Climbing out of the bed, she stretches her body, back arching, and then rubs at a shoulder, peering around the room. White lino floor, plain walls with a few landscape pictures hung on them. The room feels like a prison cell, for some reason.
"Hello?" She calls out, making her way towards the door to the room, opening it slightly to view the hallway of rooms. She can hear voices, perhaps, but something about them makes her not want to venture out this time.
Uncertain of who she is, with only vague memories of horses and guns and demons and the desert, she frowns as she makes her way towards the bathroom. A shower should hopefully help her make sense of these confusing thoughts. Peeling off the nightgown and stepping beneath the hot water is relaxing and soothing. It feels like she hasn't had a shower in a long, long time.
Stepping out, feeling fresher, if not less confused, she begins to dress. The more she casts about in her mind for the memories, the more comes back to her. Anette ... Hargreave? McTavish? One and then the other. Loving wife, feared outlaw, Protector of Prosperity.
Dressed in her grey sweatpants and her purple tank top, simplicity and comfort, the woman peers around the room again as it all falls into place. Nettie. Kylie. Madison. She sinks to sit on the bed, staring. How many people can she keep in here? Why do they keep coming back here? She shudders, in remembering the horror. Of all their lives, really, though Anette's are freshest there. It's strange, to be without a gun. But The Penitent would never use it. Would she? Maybe before, she wouldn't have.
With sudden movement, she's up on her feet, checking the drawers of the vanity. Familiar objects come into view; a smart phone, top of the line from around 2018. Madison's phone. She frowns. That phone never provides her any comfort.
Next, a multitool. Her head tilts as she examines it, and smiles just slightly. And of course, the next thing. That silver wedding ring. She closes her eyes, and exhales a slight sigh. "Why?" Just that simple question, her voice barely above a whisper. Once again she picks up the cellphone, and stares at the two objects. She remains that way for quite some time, contemplating them both.
"Why?" She wonders again, staring up at the ceiling. With no answer forthcoming from the walls, she crawls back onto the bed, to sit and to think.