Liora cracked one eye open. She didn't shoot up or groan. She just lay there, blinking at the ceiling like it was personally responsible for all her problems.
Her body felt like it had been dragged through wet cement and tossed out of a moving truck.
Head? Still attached, thankfully.
Limbs? Check. Aching, but check.
Soul? Slightly frayed around the edges, but still present.
She blinked again. The light was gentle...not blinding, but warm, like early morning sun. It slipped through the window, casting golden stripes across the floor and across her face.
And she realizes that she is lying on a soft bed with soft sheets. A faint smell of fragrance. A curtain gently waving in the breeze like it didn't have a care in the world. It was so… peaceful.
Which immediately made her suspicious. Her eyes flicked around.
Wooden walls. Clean floors. Not a trace of blood or broken glass. Not a single zombie groans in the distance.
Wait.
Where the hell was she?
