This is an excerpt from a dream I had a while ago. It's inspired a number of ficlets so far, and still kind of haunts me. I had only been asleep for like 15 minutes and woke up in tears. This little snippet has kind of crept into everything I write.
I had been tricked into somehow thinking that what I was about to do was for my own good. I only wanted her to not have to prostitute herself out anymore, so I offered to take her place under the servitude of the doctor.
He was very persuasive. He had already done his work on my love, and I could see her suffering. I only wanted to put an end to her agony.
He directed me to lay back against the bed he used for his operations. I did so, and asked what he would need to do. He held a vial in front of me and told me to breathe deeply. I did so and immediately was cloaked in darkness. Silence for a few minutes that I can remember, then horrible grinding pressure and noise pushing in on me.
Soon I was done and another vial was passed in front of my face.
I awoke coughing and spitting blood, but was otherwise not in pain. There was a pressure on the back of my head and I reached back there feeling a wound stitched back together. My hand came away with more blood and I struggled to my feet.
As I got to my feet I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, it was horrible. My face was white and bloodless. Dark circles pooled underneath my eyes and blood was crusted over where it had leaked from the corners of my eyes.
Then they brought her in, and locked the door behind them. She was still beautiful, as I remembered. Her skin was soft and she drew me to her naked body. I told her not to look at me as I was horrible from the procedure that had been performed on me.
While holding her, I saw the incisions that had been made on her back and neck, and now there were bony protrusions that came out of those scars over each shoulder blade.
“What have they done to you?” My voice came in ragged, as I was still exhausted from the procedure.
“It’s a side effect.” She said. “The wings grow very slowly, and need to be clipped once a week or else they become obvious and I would be a target for witch hunters.”
“It's ok.” She said. “The hurting stopped for me long ago.”
It became clear to me that she didn't want to leave.
“You'll get used to it. I did.”
At least I wouldn't be alone anymore.