Living castle (264 words)

Sleep, I like sleep, at least when I'm the place I'm sleeping at is comfortable.

The place I'm sleeping in right now is very comfortable, it feels like I'm drifting through the air floating and still unshakingly rooted to the ground.

I like it, I like it very much, so much that when I heard the crisp sound of something hard scratching against stone I immediately snaped open my eyes and sent a death glare in the direction of the sound.

Unsurprisingly nothing happened, annoyed and in bad mood I finally got up from the heavenly bed I slept in.

…

…

It wasn't a bed, I realize as soon as I look around me.

Well, looking isn't the right word, more like, I sensed my surroundings.

Confused and still on my way to full wake up I took a look at myself.

Big, heavy, grey stone blocks, neatly piled on top of each other, forming sturdy walls.

Beams made form a dark wood and bluish grey tiles that form a roof.

I wrinkle my now imaginary nose.

'Shit, I'm a building.'

That's all the surprise I could muster at the moment.

My self-inspection has brought me to the realization that my current "body" was in fact a fre*king castle.

A medieval castle seemingly on top of a snowy mountain.

Unsure how to react to this change I slowly start to explore my internal structure.

Many empty rooms with old decaying furniture, glassless windows, candlesticks and holder without candles, hell theres even a bunch of crystal chandelier's hanging in what I presume a ball hall