Constricted, tight, cut off, Rosaline felt as if she had been buried alive. It did not smell of dirt however, instead the smell of other people and a dank cold smell reached her dainty, doll like nose. Other people? she thought, forcing her eyes to open. The minute the glass orbs of green slid open she almost screamed. As if due to some sick joke she was trapped in a clear, most likely glass, box that was set upright in a desolate basement of sorts. In that moment she felt more trapped than ever, as if the one behind this wanted her to feel powerless, and it was working. It was also making her angry.

Thinking of a way out of her confinement she glanced back around the cellar, her eyes ghosting over several unconscious figures scattered over the floor. She, however, seemed to be the only one trapped in a box. The others, once awake, would be free to move. A growl left her lips.

The cellar appeared cold, seeing as the other beings breath left them in puffs of fog due to the cold. Freezing or not Rosaline could not feel it, her body couldn’t feel, she didn’t have any nerve endings in her doll like body so thus she could never feel even if she wanted to.

“Can SOMEONE get me out of this foul entrapment!!” she yelled, hoping to startle someone awake so they might free her. While waiting though, continuing to pound helplessly on the glass, she tried recalling how she came to be here. It was a foggy memory but she remembered trying to fight off several assailants during one of her late night walks. Could that be who brought her here?

Shaking the thought off she pounded harder with her porcelain fists, wanting nothing more than to be free of this infernal box.

Frantic banging entered Faira’s disoriented nightmare.

“Ten more minutes,” she muttered, rolling over and placing a hand on what she thought would be her bed. A violent shiver ran down her body, and she reached to grab a blanket, only to find one absent.

With brows furrowed in confusion, she slowly opened her eyes as her body sluggishly crept toward consciousness. In place of the cushiony mattress back in her home, the rough surface of freezing concrete scratched against her skin, the material’s chill soaking through her black turtleneck.

The seventeen-year-old girl gasped and got to her hands and knees, her body aching, as she tried to clear the cobwebs of sleep from her mind. Suddenly, images of the last memory she had flooded her mind in an instant. The Starbucks logo as she left, the feeling of being watched carrying over from the rest of the week. A bony man pulling her into an alley. Another, larger man blocking her escape, a glowing net of sorts in hand. Then, nothing.

Panicked, Faira jumped to her feet as the odd thump of something or someone still pounding on glass continued. She sneezed and sniffled as the freezing air around her loosened her sinuses. Hugging herself as she pressed her back against the wall, she scanned for any sign of the two who had kidnapped her, as well as the source of the pounding.

A couple handfuls of others laid on the ground around her, apparently unconscious, their forms lit by a flickering bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Faira gasped as her eyes locked on a glass encasement housing a woman.

Faira hesitated a moment, glancing around the room once more before slowly making her way to the glass cage, careful to avoid stepping on any of the others still sleeping.

“Can you hear me?” she called, vapor rising from her mouth with each breath as she looked the cage over in search of a latch or some other way of releasing the woman. “Do you know where we are?”
She blew into her hands in an attempt at keeping them fairly warm, then ran them over the smooth glass, trying to find a catch of some sort.

Unbeknownst to the little picnic group, the hallway outside had begun to change. Actually, that wasn't quite it exactly. Rather, it was still changing even now. Slow, subtle transformations that nearly baffled the eye. But so far, all that appeared to be happening was that the walls were moving. No trick, no illusion, no special effect. The walls began moving on their own, as if it were made of tiles and being rearranged.

They moved with rapid pace, silently waiting and abiding their time. The captured subjects wouldn't be leaving this house for quite a while. There was still plenty of time to set up necessary precautions. Gears and mechanisms twisted and groaned as the very mansion itself began to fortify a inner offensive line. It was eager to keep these creatures detained and under control.

At least, until the Collector returned from his trip.

"Reboot successful," Conna'Cel said as his visual and audio inputs were back online. He got back up from the ground and started scanning his surroundings, slowing spinning in a circle as he did. He made note of the living creatures, flagging most of them as unconscious. "Scan complete," Conna'Cel said, then turned his attention to the one in the box. He calmly walked up to the door and stopped when he was in front of it. Then he began having a debate as to whether he should free it or not.

"Unknown specimen. Trapped, displaying violent actions. Flagged as hostile. Negative, perhaps displaying violent tendencies toward being trapped. Calculating... not enough information. Action: do not engage." Then he began examining the box itself. "Toughened glass. Current status capable of withsta-a-a-a- Error, calcula-a-ations interrupted. Fault detected. Running diag-g-gnos-s-stics." With that said, he remained motionless as he performed his diagnostics.

A cold shiver ran down Dactrin's spine, not the first since he had been laying unconscious in the cold and damp room. This shiver was the deepest yet and the chill rocked him hard enough to finally wake him from his deep sleep. If he had been dreaming he couldn't remember what it had been about. He heard voices now, a soft pounding coming from across the dimly lit room followed by a female's voice calling out to someone else. Dactrin groaned softly and blinked his eyes, the room just barely lit but showing he was not alone, confirmed by the voices. A robotic sound caught his ears, coming from the same place where the other voices were as well. Slowly, Dactrin sat himself up and exhaled deeply. A plume of visible air blew from his mouth, his warm breath reacting to the cold air of the room. He shivered again and clasped his arms around himself. Brushing some of his hair off of his brow, he looked to where he was hearing the sounds of others.

Across the room was a glass dome of sorts, trapping something inside. He couldn't quite see from the dim light but he could see a woman searching the glass for whatever was inside. Close by was a robot of sorts, more like an advanced looking android. Though he heard the sounds just moments earlier he seemed to be motionless at the moment. Dactrin raised his hand and clasped the back of his throbbing head. He had been attacked when walking home. He hadn't seen the attacker, nor even heard him coming. He simply remembers a hard blow to the back of his head and before he fell completely unconscious a dark bag was placed over his head before completely blacking out.

A familiar fear rushed adrenaline through Dactrin's body. He had been captured. He knew the feeling of entrapment all to well but thought those days were over, his freedom hard earned. Had someone figured out his abilities? He had done so well to hide them from the community. What did they want from him? His eyes moved to the group on the other side of the room. He pushed himself back from them, creating more distance until his back hit the furthest wall. Reaching his hands out he began to form an orb of light, bright enough to light up more of the room than the bulb above them was accomplishing. He held the light out in front of him, the glow brightly illuminating himself and reaching out to the others as he sat poised and ready to throw the light at them in defense. "W-what do you want?" he called out to them, assuming the gathered group were responsible for his presence here. He glanced around him for a quick moment and his eyes fell upon a couple more motionless bodies on the floor. What was going on?

Faira squeaked in fear as a voice spoke from behind her. Spinning around, adrenaline rushing through her anew and making her ready to flee or fight if necessary, she blinked at the metal-covered body that stood from among the other unconscious people. Tensing as the robotic being turned toward her and the cage, Faira squinted into the blueish shield covering its face, trying to make out any features behind it, but to no avail.

She quickly stepped aside, her breath held, as the robot strode fearlessly toward the cage. Her brows furrowed as it spoke.

What in the world… she thought as the robot stopped talking and became little more than a metal statue.

Movement in her peripheral vision made her gasp as she turned her head in that direction. She squinted against a new light forming near a wall, and raised her hand over her eyes to try to block the brightness. The light quickly spread over the room and its wielder; a boy who looked only slightly older than her held an orb of light in front of him, Faira's awed gaze lingering on the orb as long as possible before the brightness made her look away.

”W-what do you want?” he asked.

Faira took a couple more steps back and inhaled.

“To know what’s going on,” she muttered shakily, moving to stand so she could keep the newly conscious boy as well as the others in her line of sight.

A violent shiver raked her body, and she cupped her hands in front of her. She hesitated a moment, sparing the others a quick glance before the chill spreading down her fingers and brushing against her face won over. Carefully summoning a lick of fire, she sighed in relief as a small flickering flame formed in her grasp, her fingers mostly hiding the element as she relished the warmth it gave.

Scrape.

Scrape.

Scrape.

The horrid sound, that hellish noise that pierced the air would do well to interrupt all forms of communication and conversation. For one thing, it was incredibly annoying, though the fact that it was originating right behind the door also proved it to be unnerving as well. Anyone still unconscious from their capture would like be rattled awake now by the dark screech, or at the very least incredibly disorientated.

The scrapes sounded like they came from a being with no identifiable mass or weight to it. It simply was. Scraping away at the tiny door that served to separate the prisoners from whatever horrors lay awakened in this nightmarish house. It drew them closer to the door, daring them to escape and explore their new prison first hand.

Either that…or the thing on the other side would make a decision for them.

Scrape.

Scrape.

Scrape.

The others hadn't noticed or acknowledged his presence, this was likely due to his stillness. He was more rigid and still than a statue his breath coming so smoothly it would be undetectable until you were mere inches before his face. He had been sitting with his back against the wall, motionless, his face concealed in the shadows. His claws scraped the concrete floor making a grating sound similar to that of the one against the door. His red eyes showed nothing but madness and despair, and his white fangs gleamed like daggers. He stood his short brown hair spiking to the side and his horns protruding from his head, as he slowly rose to his feet he pushed off the wall and stumbled forward toward the door.

He slowly walks forward until he is directly in front of the door then places both hands and his ear upon it. Suddenly those sickly red eyes grew wider and his grin turned into a sadistic smile. Tapping the door he spoke at last "Knock knock whats behind here? Maybe something for me to play with?" He laughed maniacally as he said this. Finally he stepped back and grabbing the door's handle threw it open and yelled "READY OR NOT HERE I COME" completely prepared to face whatever was on the other side.

Rosaline had stopped her useless pounding on the glass by then, having turned her attention to the other beings waking up.

"W-what do you want?"

As the girl answered Rosaline could only think ’Out of this box.’ but she didn’t feel the need to voice it. She would rather not irritate those who could free her.

A sigh of exasperation left her painted lips, her hands returning to her side as she began to glance around the box for a way out. That’s when she saw it, a folded letter at the bottom of the coffin sized box. If only she could reach it but due to the tight proximity of the container she couldn’t crouch or bend over to grab it. “There seems to be a letter in here, I’ll try to get ahold of it… Maybe, if someone would be so kind, someone could get me out of here.” she pleads, looking at the few who had not charged the door like a maniac.

A determined look flickered on the woman’s face as she reached over towards her other shoulder. Then with a sickening POP she dislocated her shoulder. Anyone who was watching would most likely be appalled as she removed the appendage. There was just enough space to maneuver the doll like arm to the other side, right above the letter, and then she let it down. The disconnected arm reached it perfectly, the fingers grasping the letter before the arm was returned to its socket.
Now with the letter in hand she unfolded it and began to read.

I’m sorry you had to wake up like this, sleeping on the cold ground isn’t very comfortable. You’re probably wondering where you are though and why you’re here. Well that’s simple; you’re in my mansion which will probably be your home sooner or later. It doesn’t have to be though. If you can escape you’re free to go, don’t just try to break out through brute force though. My house doesn’t take that kindly and I don’t want damaged collectibles. Oh that reminds me, if you can’t escape you become mine, that is why I chose you. I wanted another special thing to add to my collection.
Well good luck, I look forward to spending the rest of eternity here with you all.
Signed,
The Collector.

If Rosaline could pale any more then she would be whiter than ivory. Her eyes glazed back over the seal on the letter with a ghost of recognition before she turned her head towards the door and the man who thought it wise to run out there.
“SIR, GET AWAY FROM THE DOOR!!” she screamed in a panic.

As the door was opened through such unorthodox means, the being that had caused the methodical scraping…was nothing. Nothing at all. Or maybe it had left long ago? Impossible, as they would have all heard such a massive creature lumber off into such unknown territory. So then, what was it then? What had caused the scraping? Or was it never anything at all? Something that served to be only a preview to their time spent in this mad house.

The hallway was long and narrow, and those captured would have to be forced to proceed one by one in a linear fashion. On both sides of the corridor were rows upon rows of beautiful portraits of various landscapes, though there appeared to be something wrong with them. In each and every one there was the image of flames depicted. What they meant was anyone’s guess.

The sound of light orchestra music also filled the hallway, ringing in the prisoner’s ears. It was majestic and gentle, as if the piece from a ballet routine or some other formal dance. The music seemed to be coming from down the hallway, beckoning to the prisoners to enter deeper into the manor’s depths.

And so the Collector waited…

Faira gasped and pressed herself against a wall as a scraping began at a door creating the only exit—or entrance—her eyes wide and heart pounding. The sound echoed in the basement almost in stereo as a second scraping from somewhere else in the room joined in. Her attention turned back to the woman in the glass, whom she had somehow nearly forgotten about.

With a shaky nod, Faira went to another side of the encasement. There, near the bottom and blending in with the glass, a small leaver of the same material waited. She looked up to the woman to mention it to her as she placed a hand on the lever, but froze. Her face paled and she went slack-jawed as the woman removed her arm and grabbed the letter.

Swallowing, she pulled the lever as the woman began to read the letter, and the walls of the cage pulled slowly apart. Her gaze shifted once more, and she felt suddenly faint at the sight of a demon at the door, the words on the letter doing little for comfort. She leaned against the wall behind her and ran her hand through her hair.

Demons… people with detachable limbs… robot-suited guys… someone going by Collector… What’s next? She thought, taking a shaky breath. “H-he like a serial killer or something?” She couldn’t help asking, her voice a whisper, wondering if she really wanted to know the answer.

She jumped at the woman’s panicked scream as the demon flung the door open. She gave a relieved sigh as it revealed only empty space beyond, and sunk down the wall with her back still against the cold stone. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath as the gentle music flooded into the room, alighting a small spark of curiosity within her.

She took another deep breath and opened her eyes. “Seriously,” she began, her words still soft. “Anyone ever heard of this guy?”

At the sight of nothing behind the door he stood rigid as stone for a moment, then his shoulders drooped and he looked depressed. For a moment he was completely silent, but suddenly he erupted in maniacal laughter. "That's right little creature scurry along" he said holding his hand to his fore head. Suddenly his laughter stopped dead and he froze completely his hand still upon his forehead. One ear cocked at the gasp he had heard, and one red eye darted to the side locking Faira in its gaze.

Moving at a speed that most humans would simply think he vanished and reappeared in front of them the demon was suddenly inches in front of her face. She would be able to see the luster of each individual fang, and the small specks of green that dotted his crimson eyes. Leaning in and sniffing her hair he whispered in her ear. "You smell tasty" Before stepping back slowly and locking her in an unwavering stare.

"Diagnostics complete," Conna'Cel said after a period of time. "Repairs complete. All necessary systems online." He then directed his attention toward the one still trapped in the box, who was now reading a note. He started recording what was being read, and stopped when she was done. He analyzed the contents, taking special note of the last few words, "The Collector." He then turned his attention to the one who had opened the door, and took a few steps to look through the opening. Seeing nothing but a long hallway with the walls covered with paintings, he started walking down the hallway, already starting his journey out of the room.

Faira shouted as the demon seemed to appear in front of her. She straightened and, momentarily forgetting she was already against the wall, tried to step back, her foot only hitting the stone. She quickly looked him over with wide eyes, her breath catching in her throat as his fangs gleamed menacingly in the dim light of the room. She turned her head instinctively as the monster leaned in and whispered, her body frozen momentarily with fear.

You’ve got powers, you idiot! she scolded herself as the demon stepped away. Use them! Her breathing ragged, she resisted the urge to shy away from the creature’s green-speckled gaze.

As fast as humanly possible, she stepped to the side so her back no longer rested against the wall, raised her shaking hands in front of her in a fighting stance of someone who had watched one too many kung fu movies, and her fists burst into flame.

“G-get away from me!” Faira breathed, her breaths ragged as she punched downward with her right hand. The flame surrounding it flew from her fist to explode at the demon’s feet in warning, only to be replaced by another as she returned her arm to its previous position.

She forced her light brown eyes to lock with his, terror shining through their depths despite her disastrous attempt at placing a fierce mask over her face.

The sounds of turmoil and strife were like music to the empty hallway, though they were nothing compared to the constant repeat of classical music that continued to play. Seeing as the demon and the fire girl were preoccupied with their own confrontation, the robot was the first to enter the hallway. As it did so, a low creaking was suddenly heard in the long corridor.

A second of pause before the hallway began to suddenly morph and change. It was as if the manor itself was groaning and turning, twisting and contorting to fits its own needs. Gone was the hallway that had layed right before them from a few moment’s prior, replaced now by a bright and new image.

The house had transformed with little rhyme and reason, and all of them had seemingly stumbled upon what looked like a grand ballroom. And yet, if they were to look behind them, the prisoners would still be able to view the basement; only what lay before them had changed shape.

Were they still inside the manor at this point?

Under normal circumstances, the ballroom would have been beautiful. A silver chandelier hung high above them while the entire floor was paved with strokes of crimson and marble. Gold and purple decorations adorned the walls everywhere, giving the huge room a radiant glow. The orchestra music from before was now loud and overpowering in this new location. Just how big was this place anyway...?

A flash of movement whirled by suddenly. Something fast and moving in the center of the ballroom. It looked like...a person. Though it could just have been some hallucinating, given the house’s apparent sentience...no, those movements definitely looked too real to be a dream.

The figure was a girl, who moved with such grace and elegance as she danced alone on the grand stage of the center. Her pale skin contrasted with the pitch black dress around her figure, crowned atop with equally long black hair that covered her left eye with long bangs. Her single seen right eye was a deep crimson, as red as the flooring of which she was dancing upon. After a final twirl of movement, she paused to take a bow to an imaginary crowd before finally noticing the group of very strange people no doubt watching her.

"My goodness, you all startled me!"

Walking over to them, she bowed politely and flashed them each a warm smile.

"Apologies for the rude endeavor. You seem to be...lost. Tell me, is there a certain reason you're roaming this mansion?"

The girl titled her head to the side and blinked in surprise.

"Oh yes, I almost forgot! Apologies once more."

She bowed once again to emphasize her point.

"I don't really have a name...but you may address me as Marianne."

The minute the box had been opened Rosaline had scrambled out of it, putting her form, unintentionally, between the two now locked in a stare down. Lucky for her she had not quite made it clear of the glass confines before the girl threw a ball of flames towards the inhuman man who had approached her. “He wants us alive, so in turn he’s most likely a serial kidnapper.” She replies to the girl’s question.

Rosaline did not even look fazed by the sudden change of space, the fact that they no longer stood in the basement wasn’t much of a shock. In truth it made her assumptions on the identity of their captor clearer. It seemed to her that she would get her vengeance after all these years. She was however shocked by the woman’s polite nature; at least someone in this atrocious place had manners. The Nebula’s eyes shifted to each of her ‘comrades’, giving them a once over.

A robot, what appeared to be a demon of sorts, two humans, and Marianne? They were all here for a reason and from what she had seen it most likely had to do with their unique abilities or species. The newcomer however didn’t quite feel like she was in the same boat, maybe she was one of their captor’s helpers… that did not explain her behavior though.

Rosaline shook her head a little, refocusing on the woman all in black. “The name is Rosaline, but I have a feeling you already know that. Do you know where we are? Or… even why we specifically have been taken?” she asks, her tone becoming cautious.

At the girls stance and threat Adrian's grin widened even further. Stepping forward he grabbed her flaming hands showing no fear or pain. As his hands were engulfed in the fire he laughed at her "Trying to burn a demon probably isn't the best strategy!". He suddenly stopped when the hallway transformed and a new person stood before them amongst that insufferable music. Gripping Faira's hands he spun and spun her with him dancing into the center of the ballroom along with the music and dragging her along with him.

Faira spared the now free woman a glance as she answered her earlier question.

She gasped and tried to pull away as the demon grabbed her hands, the beast completely unfazed by the flames licking their way up his own hand and arms. Her face fell as the realization of the truth of his words sunk in, and the flames around her and his hands died out. She moved to try to pull away from his grasp once more, but the room around them abruptly changed, making her attention turn to their surroundings momentarily. She blinked in awe at the beauty of the room, and the appearance of the new woman elegantly clad in as she danced gracefully about the ballroom’s center.

She shouted in surprise when the demon pulled her onto the dance floor. Her feet dragged a few steps before she hastily regained her balance as the demon spun her around to the enchanting music, the frequent circling threatening to make her dizzy.

Her attempts at pulling from him futile, her eyes grew slightly distant in concentration. Suddenly, starting from her hands and consuming the rest of her in the blink of an eye, her body turned into a dark, massless shadow that melted into the floor, creating a pool of black on the red and marble beneath the demon’s feet. The shadow shot across the room toward the center. It stopped well away from the new girl as she ceased her dancing, then rose in a solid glob that turned back into Faira.

She stumbled forward as her body reformed sooner than she had intended, and fell to her hands and knees as the girl gave her apologies. She hurried to her feet and spun to face the demon.

“W-we’re being held captive by a crazy guy,” she breathed toward him, her body angled away from him and ready to run, “and you decide to dance?”

Her head tilted toward the others as Rosaline spoke to the new girl, Marianne.

At least SHE’S trying to figure things out! she thought exasperatedly.

As Conna'Cel walked, the hallway suddenly transformed into a ballroom, causing Conna'Cel to stop and examine his new surroundings. "Strange," he said as he scanned the room. As he did so, he noticed something move with inhuman speed. Normal human eyes might not have noticed it, but Conna'Cel had much sharper sensors. He reacted quickly, raising his right arm as it transformed into a series of cylinders surrounding a metal rod, essentially like a small minigun barrel, while stating, "Possible hostile entity detected." He aimed it directly at the figure that had appeared, but did not fire. Instead he scanned her to see what information he had about her. He found nothing, which was odd since he had a plethora of information stored in his memory banks.

"Apologies for the rude endeavor. You seem to be...lost. Tell me, is there a certain reason you're roaming this mansion?" the female asked them. Ignoring the question, Conna'Cel simply ordered, "State your identity." At that point the female apologized again and said, "I don't really have a name...but you may address me as Marianne." Filing away that information to use, Conna'Cel lowered his weapon, not sensing any hostility from her body language or words, and it transformed back into his arm. He then said, "Information about my current location and 'The Collector' is necessary. GPS and Wi-Fi have failed. My files contain no information about either."

“The name is Rosaline, but I have a feeling you already know that. Do you know where we are? Or… even why we specifically have been taken?”

The mysterious girl shrugged.

“Why, you’ve been taken by the Collector Rosaline. I suppose he’s about done with his toys and so went out to buy new ones.”

She glanced over at the robot now, a curious expression written on her face. A robot…well this certainly was interesting for her.

"Information about my current location and 'The Collector' is necessary. GPS and Wi-Fi have failed. My files contain no information about either."

“Ah, but I’m afraid I can’t really do that Conna'Cel,” she said, somehow guessing the thing’s title. “See, that would be spoiling on my part, but I do like a good story.”

As she said so, something began to flicker from the edge of the ballroom. Even as it did so, Marianne’s presence was surely the main attraction in the room. There was just…something familiar about her…and yet different at the same time.