---

Sweet lord, my head hurts. What even happened last night?

Arthur blinked groggily, his eyesight such a blur that he could barely make out the colours of the wallpaper of the room he was in let alone any details or furniture. Rarely had his head been subject to such a pounding; it was if the whole bleeding Salvation Army was having their annual musical parade inside of his skull. The weird thing was he could not remember having a single drink the night before. Usually, even on the morning after their First Year exam results came in, he could remember starting to drink even if everything after was a little more hazy but this... this he remembered being in the library and then, well, not being there.

Dimly he was aware that the bright white sheets he was lying on were not his own (his favourite colour was blue and pretty much every furnishing he had control over in his dormitory room was some shade of the colour, especially the duvet cover and pillows) and that his body felt surprisingly leaden. It was like he had been on the biggest bender in human history and then run a marathon, just for good measure, before collapsing on this strange, alien bed.

And then conscious thought began to return, little clues adding into a sensation that something was most definitely, definitely not right. In fact, things were profoundly wrong. They were so wrong he was even moved to attempt swearing but his mouth felt as numb as the rest of him.

Arthur's eyesight began to clear and he could make out a little of the room, well, the part of the room his head was pointing at, and it was not one he recognised. It certainly was not a dorm room, the furniture too new and undamaged and the style was looked to belong to a hotel aspiring for the vaunted five star rating.

Minutes, maybe even hours, passed before sensation began to properly return and he was able to slowly, ever so slowly, roll over onto his back and then sit up to take in more of his surroundings. It was definitely not a dorm room, he had decided. And the lack of any windows made it doubtful he was in a hotel.

There was an open door to what looked like a bathroom so he made his way over, feeling at least six times his age, and clutched at the sink. The cold water ran smoothly and he splashed his face, feeling the cold shock jolt his sluggish mind into action and with it the beginnings of fear rather than mere unease.

"Where...?" He murmured, turning to go back into the room. A strange sight in the corner of his vision stopped him and he moved back so that he could see himself properly in the mirror. What had caught his attention was a small dot surrounded by light bruising on his neck. Instinctively he reached to touch it and found memories of his abduction flooding back.

A click from the other room, quiet but audible in the otherwise complete silence, stopped his fall into a panic spiral, and he edged back into the main room. There was no one else there and no change he could notice, but there was one other door. On his touch the door knob turned and the door swung in easily, giving him access to a stark white corridor.

Full of apprehension, Arthur shifted into the hallway to see a bank of doors similar to his own with numbers engraved on plaques stuck on them, his own was 15, and a sign on the wall giving directions to various places: Cafeteria, Lounge, Pool, Gymnasium, Games Room.

"Erm, hello?"

Abel didn't really "wake up." He was suddenly awake after sleeping, aware of his surroundings. No, he'd done that thousands of times... but this was a foreign feeling. It was as if he was in some kind of trance, and slowly regained consciousness from the land of the dazed. He sighed as he slowly opened his eyes to what lay beneath him. Normally, he would open his eyes and see the black pillowcase on his bed... not this time. The surface beneath him felt rough and crude against his bare chest. As he slowly lifted his head, he saw brown carpet underneath him.

He felt a cold sensation and saw that his arm was hanging off the carpet, resting against the cold wooden floor. Altogether, his senses rushed together and his adrenaline spiked. He put his hand on the ground hoisted himself up to his knees, but only made it that far, as he stumbled to the left and fell against a bed that was not his own. His arms felt like he'd just finished bench-pressing a thousand pounds, and the rest of his body mirrored that soreness. His chest heaved as the feeling of this foreign setting finally crept into him.

What was happening to him? He was tall and strong, but in that moment he felt small and weak. He heaved himself to the bed with a groan, his long bangs falling into his face. He swept them back and looked around the unfamiliar room, the window glaring light in his face. The feeling of anxiety switched to fear as he saw that his face in the mirror. It was like it finally clicked everything into place. This is really happening.

"Mom!" He shouted, but no response came. He marched over to the closed door and tried to open it but it was locked. "Emily! Erin!" He shouted, then waited for the voice of either of his little sisters to answer. Of course, it never came. He turned back to the window, but then his breath caught for a moment. No, it wasn't a window. At first glance it'd seemed like it, but it was really just a panel of light.

Abel swallowed, his brow slumping as he felt the fear rise in his throat. His ears caught the sound of a faint click. He turned and saw the door tilt open by just a hair. His brow creased and he marched toward it, shoving it open with all 180 pounds of his body, bursting into the pristine white hallway.

He looked to his right and horrible pain hit his forehead, causing him to drop to his knees with a groan of pain. A series of 1's and 0's flashed through his head and then he saw an image of himself, kneeling on the ground, like a camera looking down at him. The pain and the image faded and he breathed heavily in relief. He looked to his left and saw another guy down the hallway. "Hey!" He shouted. "Hey! Where in God's name am I?!"

@Jinxer

The word faded out before it could even form. Her thoughts felt thick and sluggish as it pushed against the heavy haze that occupied her mind. Where was she? Mara tried to roll onto her side but her body wouldn't comply. Instead she laid there struggling against the leaden weight that now made up her form. She sucked in a deep breath she wrenched her eyes open; wincing as the artificial light stabbed at her sensitive corneas. This wasn't her room. A thin line of panic cut across her chest and she could feel her breath hitch as adrenaline seeped into her veins. What happened? Where was she? With gritted teeth Mara forced herself up; her body groaning in agony. Everything felt raw. Her skin prickled against the touch of her dress; 'My dress...' She looked down at the once white frock now smudged with dirt and spatters of blood.
Blood.
Mara felt her stomach twist as memories flooded back in waves; she had been walking down the street,not too far off from her house when a van had pulled up beside her. Strangers weren't particularly threatening to her; in fact it was rather common for them to stop and ask for directions. The town was rather small but built with an excessive use of one-ways. What she hadn't expected was to see the doors slid open and hands reach out for her.

She could still feel them. Leather gloves that bit into her flesh.The pain that bloomed as her body had been thrown around carelessly and the gross sobbing that poured from her mouth as a needle bit into her neck.
An inhuman sound spilled from her lips as the memories battered against one another. She remembered. No words echoed in steely silence as she had screamed. Just rough hands that bound her limbs behind her body and then darkness as they slipped something over her head. Her stomach lurched as she glanced down at her arms; mottled with fading bruises.

She felt sick. Suddenly everything was entirely too vivid. Too real.
She tried to focus on anything but her thoughts as panic welled up in her throat. 'Why?', her mind cried over and over as if the answer lay somewhere within her subconscious. Mindlessly she went to lick her lips only to wince as pain jolted back at her. Tentative fingers brushed against the offending area; blood had crusted over and down her chin. The taste of blood swirled in her mouth. She must of busted it in the struggle but hadn't even noticed until now.

Mara eyed the room. It's clinical cleanliness gave it an air of a hospital room but with much less information. Her heartbeat drummed in her eras as she sat on the edge of her bed. The knot in her throat had lessened as panic began to ebb away. Had she already given into her situation? Admitted defeat? Or was this just shock? Either way, she was thankful for the moment of silence in her head. This wasn't something to be solved without thinking things through.



In reality the sound was barely above a whisper but to her it crashed loudly in her ear drums. With a suspicious gaze she watched her door swing slightly ajar. 'Okay...' Freedom was not on the other side. Any rational person knew that but there it was; that annoying glimmer that throbbed in her chest. Mara slid off the edge of the bed as her knees buckled under her feet. Struggling to maintain her balance she set her teeth on edge and pushed forward.

Everything felt disjointed; as if someone had shoved her into someone else's body that was two times too big. Her steps were heavy and uneven but with each step it was almost like she was molding herself to fit. Fingertips brushed against the door and it responded back by gracefully swinging open. The hall beyond was stark white; cameras lined the upper molding to which she gave a curious glace. Peering out she spied two other people, both disheveled and seemed to posses the same bewildered look she was sure she mirrored.

Limping slowly Mara stepped outside; "Hello?" her voice came out harsh and muffled. Her tongue felt deadened behind her lips. Slumping against the wall; This was just too much.

@SheriffLlama @Jinxer

Myriam woke up with a groan, her head was feeling heavy and dizzy. She could see the sun through her still closed eyes, so it must be at least some kind of after-morning. But when she opened her eyes, she noticed that no sun had woken her and no trains were near. Instead she was lying on a comfortable bed in a nice, clean room that was certainly not hers, nor anywhere found in her home or her friend's houses. She frowned. Where am I?

Slowly, very slowly, she sat up like in slowmotion. Her head wasn't really having any quick movements right now and she didn't dare to begin a discussion with it. She looked around and decided that wherever she was, she had never seen this room before.

Now being certain she was nowhere familiar, her head was on edge and her senses sharpened as best as they could with the pounding in her head. Something itched on her arm and she scratched - and found a little red dot like from a needle. She panicked slightly but forced herself to keep calm.

Okay, so you are in an unknown room - without window... nothing unusaly... not at all. And so you have a weird dot looking like from a needle. Doesn't mean someone drugged you and kidnapped you. Not at all. All is fine.

She shook her head, which she regretted immediately. The pain sharpened in her brain and she quickly moved to the door - locked. She groaned. Now the scenery was getting more frightening. Her second attempt had more luck, the door was unlocked. But only led into a bathroom. She used the toilet and checked her head for any injuries that would explain her headache, but there was none. After checking also the rest of her body as quickly as she could she decided that nothing had changed from when she last saw it, except for the needle-dot, which was still making her mind cringe.

The grabbed a brush and brushed her hair - not for looking good! But for getting her messy hair out of her eyes to have better view. She would have loved to put it in a tight ponytail. She didn't hear the click of the door unlocking, because she was looking through the whole bathroom for anything useful. But she could not find anything that would be helpful. Not even a scissor was lying around. She doubted she could protect herself with a toothbrush.

Returning to the bedroom, she tried the door again - hope is the last thing you lose, right? And surprisingly it opened. She stepped out carefully and looked back at the door to see if it was labelled. Indeed it had a single number written on it. 18.

She turned her head and noticed three other figures standing in the white hallway. She held the door slightly opened, just in case she had to hide in her room and shut it quickly. But she more than anything hoped those guys had answers.

Reliving her last memory - running away, sleeping at the train station -, she figured that this place was probably a safe haven for runaway kids or any kind of hospital - that would explain the needle-dot too. Maybe they found her at the train station and couldn't wake her and just took her to take care of her. Yes that has to be it. They ran some tests and gave her something that would help her in any kind. God, and I thought they kidnapped me. I am so paranoid.

With a weak voice she called out to the others. "Hey!" They would sure know what exactly this was.

Damien's eyes shot open, and he quickly sat up to get his bearing. He then winced as he felt a sharp pain in his side, clutching the spot involuntarily. Pulling up his shirt to take a look, Damien saw a red mark on his side. Turning his attention away from the mark, Damien looked around the room to try to figure out where he was, quickly realizing that he recognized nothing of his surroundings.

"Shit," Damien said to himself as he got up from the bed he had been lying on. His memories of the events leading up to now were coming back to him as well. A group of people had surrounded him, and there was a snapping sound of electricity just before he felt a sharp pain and passed out, which explained the sore spot on his side. Probably a tazer, Damien thought, still looking back.

Damien came to the conclusion that he had been kidnapped, though he had no clue as to the motive. Damien certainly didn't think he was valuable in any way, so he doubted it was for a monetary reason like that. Damien walked over to a door and tried the doorknob, and was surprised when it turned smoothly. He swung it open, hoping for a way out, but was disappointed to merely find a bathroom. Looks pretty nice, actually, Damien thought as he walked over and turned on the sink, which of course allowed water to pour in.

Something felt off to him then, but he couldn't quite figure out what. Before he could figure it out, though, he began hearing commotion from the outside. Leaving the bathroom and trying the other door, he found that that door opened as well and looked outside. What he found was rather... unexpected. There were other people around his age who looked just as confused as he did. If he had to fight them, Damien was pretty sure he could take them on, though he doubted it would have to come to that.

Damien sighed as he scratched the back of his head. Perhaps they had some clues. It felt better to be outside than in that room of his, anyway. Walking over to a girl nearby, Damien asked her gruffly, "Hey you, where the hell are we?"

@KahleenCuthald

Colors and figures, nothing more. This was all Irina was able to see as she dreamt.

The girl only knew that she had been sleeping because it was the suddenly and sharp smell of rubbing alcohol, mixed with a smell of disinfectants and some sort of vanilla lilac that tried to mask it all. It was a strange scent which had suddenly sent Irina's brain into overdrive as she began to recall the moments before she had fallen horribly ill with a terrible migraine. Her mother had taken her in to her room, where she had fallen into a sleep induced by a high fever. She had remembered telling her mother how she could not stand her head anymore, and how every sound and every touch felt as if she was getting hit by a car. It was after that when she slipped into a deep sleep.

A sudden beep made the dark haired girl cringe, which had caused every bone and muscle in her body to ache and protest against the sudden movement. The beeping continued nonetheless, and Irina froze as she began to focus on it. It was all in her head though.

Even with all of the confusion and overwhelming memories of her final moments awake, Irina took her time. She had waited until her nose had adjusted to the weird clean-vanilla-lilac smell, although it wasn't quite like that. She had also taken the time to try and listen to anything else that would've been abnormal. Finally, the girl had opened her emerald eyes, blinking several times before they adjusted to the light in the room. Being momentarily blinded, Irina had groaned in response but found herself unable to make a sound.

"Mama?"

Nothing. Instead of her light and soft voice, the girl practically croaked. Her calls for her mother came out in rough and throaty whispers as she began to mildly panic.

The real panic began ones she had tried to lift her hand to her throat and her body felt like it was a thousand pounds. Her eyes widened in fear, and almost immediately they began to tear up as she tried to move more of her limbs and stretch out. The pain was immense as her stiff joints went into motion after, what she had concluded, must have been at least a week. It was then that voices began to fill the air. Or was it the air? Irina could have easily been imagining the voices like the other times before.

No. There were voices. Outside of her door. "He.... Hello?" Her accent stuck out like a sore thumb as she tried to regain her normal tone of voice.

Having the incentive of other people being where she was, and maybe being able to be told where she was, Irina slowly but surely pushed her legs over the edge of the bed. With a couple more groans, Irina was finally up.

She immediately saw herself in a mirror across the room from her. She wore the same exact clothing that she had fallen asleep in; black yoga pants and a loose black t-shirt. She was even wearing the sports bra, but what she found the most strange was that she was not wearing her running shoes. Those were at the side of the bed, neatly waiting for her to put them on. "This is not my room..." Her eyes were now wide in fear as her heart rate began to accelerate. With the newly found panic coming over her, Irina began to walk quickly towards the door and out into the hallway, her eyes scanning the surrounding area and taking in as many details as possible.

'Room 3'. Mental note.

'White halls'. Mental note.

Her head soon became filled with indistinct chatter as the grogginess went and away and she became more alert. "Voices our and inside of my head.." she whispered quietly as she stood in shock in the middle of the hallway. There were others for sure. She could hear them loud and clear, but her mind was too busy working up a panic attack that Irina couldn't bring herself to focus on the world around her anymore.

Nikolai was enjoying his dream, he knew he was dreaming but he was enjoying it so much that he didnt bother trying to wake himself. He was dreaming about a girl from the apartment building, her name was Anastasia. She had gorgeous red hair and he was imagining him and her at a pool. She was wearing a red bathing suit, she was in better shape than he remembered her being which he had no problem with. He himself was looking incredibly fit as he saw his reflection in the water, he was flexing and whatnot before the dream changed. He dreamt about the incident at the apartment building. He was trying to talk to people, to ask for help or have them hold him down but he just kept being in a different place until he was outside the first story of the apartment, just there. He looked down and almost shouted, but then he felt the bed drop from under him. He opened his eyes and saw a white ceiling for a second before gravity took hold. He felt his but hit first then his shoulders and his arms and legs flopped out to the side after. He gasped in pain as his ribs and innards felt like they'd just caught on fire, he clutched his stomach and took a moment to breath. His body felt like hell, then he remembered being knocked out. He put a hand on his head and checked his mohawk, it still stood which meant it'd hand been long since he'd been put in an unconscious state.

"Oy Блин , Что- болит," Nikolai said as he rolled himself onto his stomach and began to push himself up. He heard a scream then felt a kick land in his back. He winced and slowly brought his legs under him and pushed himself up. He used the wall for support as he steadied himself and closed his eyes to focus on not throwing up. Looking up he saw a girl before him, she had stark black hair not unlike his own. She was shorter than he was, curvy but she wore no makeup. She looked afraid to see him then he realized his little ability would freak out anybody.

"Где , черт возьми, я? Кто ты?" He shouted quickly in Russian, "Я не имею времени, чтобы быть там, где , черт возьми, это и я клянусь, если это собирается быть какой-то причудливой эксперимент дерьмо я собираюсь вспыхнуть первый шанс я получаю !"

@wolverbells

It must have been the chocolate... Somehow, one way or another, the drug used on Mayuri had already worn off by the time people started to come round. It was probably because she ingested it, rather than having it injected, but nevertheless she was already wide awake.

Though, despite the advantage, she hadn't used the time. Or at least, not to its fullest extent. The moment she awoke from the drug induced haze of colour and shapes was spent searching the room on unsteady legs and a painful migraine... Though, the search had turned up fruitless. As expected. Her eyes had managed to form bags, despite being asleep for such a short time. Or what must have been a short time.

But, it didn't exactly matter. The books and magazines on the desk were uninteresting, and the lights boring, despite their unnaturally natural glow that seemed only fit in a biosphere. The washed out colours of what looked to be an otherwise pristine room didn't fit that pattern. The water ran cold, the mirror reflected true, and bed sat warm.

And so that was where she sat. Crossed legs and covered in a cape of stark white bed sheets made simply for the purpose of sleeping. They didn't have a colour. They were nice. Neutral. They held no intent, no purpose besides benign ideal. They made a nice hiding place away from whatever surveillance had been place. Even if there was no telling, feeling, the presence remained. An overarching sense that even if you are free to wander, you are never free from a watchful eye.

Why had they left her? The panic had subsided pretty quickly once she realised the situation. Memories of the kidnapping came back, weren't as traumatic as some of the others. Others? There must have been others. Their voices had been sounding like muffled cannons since the door had clicked open its mechanical lock. It didn't feel right, though. Weren't they scared? Or was the adrenaline, fear and drowsiness enough to make them forget?

Maybe it was time to get up... Mayuri had been sat there for a while now, though time was either moving too fast or too slow to tell. Her whole body had once been shaking with a nervous fear mixed deep with adrenaline, but it was still now save her steady, rhythmic breathing. There were no longer tears in her eyes, but the tear tracks and bloodshot eyes still hadn't left. She simply sat wondering why they took her and those others...

Was it her power? Or was it something deeply perverted? Well, they wouldn't have made such an investment into a building if they were going to rape them, so it must have been the former. That would mean... They knew! But how?! No one knew! Well, except her family and friends, but Big Sis would never tell, and neither would Sae, Ui or Yu..!

How did they find out? Hell, even Mayu didn't know she had the power until it first displayed itself! Then again, there wasn't even much of a display. It simply stopped her from cutting her knee while walking home. There was no indication of power being used, but somehow she knew, her symbol said so. It had come to life with a feeling, closed, someone flipped the switch and the circuit was complete. It felt strange, alien, but good, in a way that couldn't be explained with mere words.

It didn't matter though, did it? There was a fresh set of tears building up in her eyes, but they were wiped away quickly with the sheets. She was here now, even if she didn't know why. There was no point in crying, even though she already had been. There's a salty taste... Her hand reached up slightly and touched her cheek. Didn't she wipe away the tears? What was happening..? Everything was just wrong, wrong, plain wrong. Nothing felt right, nothing felt familiar, nothing felt in place, but nothing felt out of place.

There was nothing left to do... The people outside kept talking, so Mayuri would stay curled up in her room, silently crying at the thought of what she had already lost. Not even the things she would come to lose.

The silent despair of Room #7.

Light... why was there light?

Lyra was squinting toward the lamp in the corner of the room. Something was wrong. Before going to bed, she had turned off all the lights in her room, yet it wasn't the luminescence that seemed unusual to her. It wouldn't be the first time a careless server had left one on despite her express instructions not to do so. No, the problem was that the lamp was of an odd, long style, unlike any her family owned. She wasn't in her room.

She braced her arms against the bed, trying to prop herself up to get a better look, but she couldn't move... not one bit. The pounding of her heart quickened. Even in a sunny field, she was rarely this weak, and her illness had not proven to be the sort riddled with intermittent attacks so far... yet, clearly, she was in a hospital. How long had she been asleep? Usually, when she woke, she would be greeted by someone - a doctor, nurse, or servant, if not her parents. Yet she was all alone, in a room not like her former ones in Brimford Private Hospital. Had she fallen into a coma of some sort?

For a long time, she laid helpless in her bed, unable to even cry out for help. It was only after what seemed like hours that she was able to prop herself up into a sitting position. In her especially weakened state, the task was challenging, and by the time she was upright and the dizziness had faded, her cheeks were warm and her breaths shallow from exertion. On the far side of the room, a mirror hung on the wall. Lyra sighed in relief when she saw that her face hadn't changed. If she had been in a coma, it hadn't been a long one.

There was no wheelchair to be found anywhere in the room. That was odd. Most days, she used one to move around at home or at school. She supposed the doctors wanted her to stay where she was until they could treat her.

"I-I'm awake," she called weakly, "Someone come help me, please..." She moved the blankets off the bed to find herself clothed in the same white nightgown she'd worn to sleep on the last night she could remember. Why hadn't they changed her? This was a hospital, wasn't it...?

She sat up a bit straighter as the door clicked, opening a crack. Then, nothing happened.

She nudged herself toward the edge of the bed, setting her bare feet atop the soft, carpeted floor. Hesitantly, she began to stand - then fell backward onto the bed. The door still hadn't moved again.

"Hello? Someone, help me, please!" she yelled, her voice a bit louder this time. "I can't get up on my own..."

Lucie was alive. And that came as a surprise.

Her mind recoiled at that, and then erratically attempted to piece together why it was a surprise by sorting through the jagged chaos that were her thoughts. Bleary grey eyes fluttered open with a herculean effort, blinking once, twice, three times before staying open as she wanted them to. An off white ceiling swam into focus; clean, nondescript and unfamiliar in every way. The beginnings of alarm kicked her heartbeat up a notch and spurred her to sit up quite suddenly. Lucie's valiant attempt was promptly rewarded with her face being better acquainted with the floor.

A string of muffled curses later, the girl sat up and looked around as she gingerly rubbed her nose. Tastefully modern furnishings surrounded her, the room appearing to have been brought to life straight out of an ad for a classy enough hotel. There was even a tall vase filled with fresh flowers as if to add a touch of color to the otherwise neutral palette. However nice it was, it sent a stab of fear through her heart, jolting her out of the inexplicable stupor she had been in. This wasn't her hotel room.

She had no memory of having arrived at such a place.

Panic seized her heart in its vice like grip, tightening even more as a quick search confirmed that her cellphone was nowhere to be found. Fragmented memories assaulted her, and with it came a deep sense of foreboding.

"I came to America for a videogame convention..."

Lucie looked down at herself as if to confirm, touching the artfully tattered leathers of her skirt and running a black lacquered nail along the ornate faux jewelry adorning her neck. She was dressed as Morrigan, one of her favorite characters ever. Even in the midst of her panic, the girl felt a sliver of pride at her handiwork. The time and effort that had gone into her costume had been well worth it, and she'd enjoyed meeting like minded people in spite of her initial nervousness.

And after that? What did I do after that?

Swallowing her mounting fear and unease, Lucie forced herself to try and recall what had happened.

That's right, I hailed a taxi.

Her blood ran cold even before the thought had fully formed. She'd gotten into a taxi, completely exhausted and in a hurry to take out her golden contact lenses. While she was preoccupied, the doors on either side of her opened and two people slid in without a word. One of them clamped a cloth over her mouth and the other had taken out a syringe. Her last thought before she blacked out was that she was going to die in a foreign country, dressed as a witch of the wilds.

America was truly as horrible as they said.

Lucie decided she would amend that statement somewhat. She was still alive, after all. Wondering if this was some sort of out of control prank for one of those weird American joke shows, the girl pulled off her askew wig and tossed it onto the bed, smoothing her hair into place and drawing herself up to her full height. If there indeed was a camera crew waiting outside, she wanted to look unperturbed by it all. She could break down once she was back home. Disapproving frown in place, she strode out the door and stopped short.

There was no camera crew or an offensively cheerful host.

Instead, a bunch of people who seemed to be around her age, equally as lost, loitered around in the hallway.

"What the hell?"

Lucie gaped, having backed herself into a wall as some guy randomly appeared out of thin air, a bit further down the hallway.

Tucked against the back wall of the room, the bed was immersed in darkness. Were lights to appear, one would see that the sheets had become completely wrapped around the bed’s sole occupant, giving the appearance of a cocoon. At first, they lay unmoving, curled up into a tight ball, and they remained that way for some time. Eventually, however, small movements began to happen, shifts and twitched that were accompanied by whimpers and moans. Occasionally something that might have been akin to words could be heard, but what they might have been or what they meant was unknown. When the door lock clicked, all movements immediately ceased, replaced by rigid awareness. Inside the cocoon of sheets and blankets, eyes snapped open into darkness, and began shifting in response. Even as they settled, the figure made no movement or sound.

When nothing else disturbed the silence, the figure began to move again. Soft tearing sounds came from the cocoon as the fabric caught and ripped, and soon the figure emerged, crawling to the edge of the bed. Back and forth it swept its gaze, then focused on the thin, distant strip that signified the door. For a moment it remained still, as if considering its options, then slipped from the bed and began creeping towards the door. The sound of voices on the other side made the figure pause. It glanced back towards the bed, then to the door, then back and forth again before continuing its advance. The voices sounded young, not old, similar to itself. Reaching out, the figure grasped the door knob with unerring accuracy, pressed its ear to the door for a moment, and slowly began to open the door.

At that moment, the lights came on in the room.

Pain shot through the figure’s eyes, eliciting a shriek clearly audible in the hallway as it threw itself to the floor, hands clamped over its face. Now fully illuminated, one could see that it was a humanoid figure, garbed in nothing more than a light green hospital gown that did little to conceal its body. Or the shiny black scales that completely covered it, save for the sand-coloured hair growing from its head.

It was at that moment, blinded and crying on the floor, that Stasya Volkov decided that the entire world hated her.

@Lillium@Airalin@Vocab@wolverbells@HellHoundWoof@Scarifar@KahleenCuthald@Jinxer@SheriffLlama@HecateProxy

As Abel looked around the increasingly occupied hallway, he made his consensus rather quickly: No one had any idea what was going on. He saw a girl that he was sure was dressed like Moriggan from Dragon Age. He attempted to decipher all the shouting from what must have been ten other kids, but he then heard what he would've sworn sounded like Russian, and saw a guy that seemed to appear out of nowhere, freaking out a girl close by. "Holy mother..." He trailed off and tried to make up something that would explain what he'd just seen.

He stepped to walk towards the Russian guy, but dropped to one knee again as his head racked with pain and the codes of 1's and 0's danced across his vision, almost as they were warning him that something was about to happen. The numbers flashed again, then were replaced by a real-time image that showed the chaotic corridor, like there was another camera watching them. What's happening to me?! He cringed as the pain slowly subsided and his vision returned to what lay in front of him.

He saw one of the girls reach out like she was about to hit the Russian guy, so he moved forward, put his body between them. He looked down at the much smaller girl. "Hey, calm down!" He said, trying to put some distance between them. He looked at the Russian guy and raised an eyebrow. "You speak English?" He asked, desperately hoping the answer was yes.

@HellHoundWoof @Wolverbells

Allia twisted and turned in her sleep as she dreamed. She was running away. Running away from what? Soon, the dream vanished and she was left with her eyes opened and staring up at the ceiling.

She yawned, stretching her arms as she got off the bed. As she looked down, her hair fell in front of her eyes as usual and Allia brushed a few more strands in front of her face.

Finally, she realized that she had no idea where the heck she was. "Ah. Umm.. Mo-mother?" she whispered quietly, looking around the room. It wasn't unusual for them not to be home when she had just woken up but the room. Her mother had changed up her room while she was sleeping before but... her tastes weren't horrible and she wouldn't have gone for this color. Allia flinched, a pain growing in her head as she finally began to piece things together.

I wanted a souffle... so I followed a guy... and then two guys grabbed me. Allia looked down and realized the bruises on her wrist which were a sign that someone had grabbed her with a lot of strength. "I didn't even fight back so did they have to leave marks?" she muttered, beginning to walk over to the door. She was nervous. And hungry. But mostly hungry.

What did they want? Wait... so they really didn't have souffle's or did they not lie about that??? "It'd be mean if they did..." she said, pouting a bit. But why would they take me? I'm not important- unless they want money?? If it's money, her parents would get mad at her afterwards. Allia bit her lip, scared about what her parents would do if they had to pay strangers just because she wasn't careful. This is why you travel with a knife. This is exactly why. This brought back memories of when Allia had gotten kidnapped before. Thankfully they only asked for 50,000$ because any more and she wouldn't have been eating for a week.

She heard a click and looked at the door nob. Allia opened it slowly and peaked outside. There were people. A lot of people. It was probably strange but this made her a bit more nervous. They can't meet my eyes. It's fine. It's fine. Allia went out and began to walk towards the people. There was a man in the distance that was spouting Russian. Quite aggressively. Allia only knew a bit of Russian but maybe she could try and speak to them.

However, she heard crying in another room and decided to check that out first. She slowly walked over to the room and peeked her head inside. A girl that appeared to be younger than her was on the ground crying. Allia shuffled through her pocket and found something. A lollipop. She pat the girl on the head before holding her hand out with the candy. "D-don't cry, yeah? Ah. Umm... sweets always help me." With that, Allia placed down the lolly pop that had a wrapper on the girls lap and stood back up a bit. "J-just don't be too scared though I know this situation is scary. A cutie l-like you shouldn't cry, yeah?" she said it in the most soothing tone as she could, hoping that she wouldn't irritate her even more or cause her to get even sadder.

@Thundercrash

_{@Jinxer@SheriffLlama@Lillium@Airalin@Vocab@wolverbells@Scarifar@KahleenCuthald@HellHoundWoof@HecateProxy}

@SheriffLlama@HecateProxy@KahleenCuthald@Scarifar@Lillium@wolverbells@sakurasan@HellHoundWoof@Thundercrash@Airalin@Vocab

Chaos.

That was truly what reigned in the hallway at that moment. One after another boys and girls of a similar age to Arthur entered the hallway in a similar state of confusion with questions on their lips. Some were speaking what sounded like Russian. Then, just to established that the scenario was officially unusual, another boy just appeared in the hallway as if from nowhere and then awoke from his apparent sleep with a start. Then a mini-brawl started. And then there was crying.

I'm dreaming. It's the only explanation. Or I'm still drunk. Or high. Is this what it's like to be high? God, if it is, I'm never doing it again. When did I even smoke something? Oh, the kidnapping.

At the remembrance of his circumstances, Arthur felt his self-confidence slipping away into a black pit of despair, mirroring the chaos in front of him. Panic began to well up inside, the confused shouts and the crying echoing in the bland hallway, inescapable and getting louder like a far off storm closing in.

Jesus, boy! Be a man! You're a Charlton and Charlton's don't cower! We don't fail! Stand up straight and try again!

Arthur felt his stature natural straighten, his shoulders rising from their hunched position of defeat and his head lifting as if to face the situation in front of him head on. It was some strange, twisted turn of fate for his abusive father's words to provide the strength he needed in that moment but that was something, he decided, to reflect upon later. For now he would make use of his momentary calm and work out just what was going on.

He was momentarily motivated to call for calm, to get them all to work together and to find out what was going on as a team but he had never been much of a leader; he was someone who relied on established hierarchies to let him know where he fit in and how far he could go. Here... it was all a free for all and no one knew what was going on. Unless he had something to offer up there was no point him lecturing the others to stay calm when he himself was standing on a chasm of the deepest fear he had ever known.

Looking once more towards the others, he walked away down the bland corridor and around the corner. He had no idea where he was going to begin with and noticed he was going in the direction a sign declare was towards the cafeteria. There was no telling how long had passed since his last meal so heading there seemed like a good first stop.

---

The cafeteria was a wide open room, still bland with white tiles all around and more of those windows-but-not along one side of the room. Tables dotted the room, some small round ones with two or three chairs around them while there were slightly lower but bigger tables, rectangular in shape, with long benches on either side. There was no one there in the room and one wall had a metal grill pulled down to obscure what beyond the wall.

There were, however, vending machines filled to the brim with cooled drinks, treats and snacks as well as a coffee machine and a water cooler; all had no place to put money. When Arthur tried one with crisps in it his selection dropped out without any delay and he collected it from the tray and sat down at one of the larger tables with a bench. As he began to munch he found it easier to concentrate, the food giving him some much needed energy that was not just from adrenaline and the simple act taking his mind off the ridiculous, nightmarish scenario he was in.

A thought occurred to him as he stared at the vending machines, his mind absent as it tried not to comprehend the recent events and how strange it was for him to be calmly eating a packet of crisps in this alien place. The way the machines were lined up reminded him of the corridor the others had all flooded into. Sure, it had been manic and loud but there had been a lot of doors that hadn't opened and he wondered how many others were here in this building, like them. What if one had a disability and couldn't leave the room, he thought.

I'm... not ready to go back just yet though.

He stayed, promising himself he would go back once he finished his small snack. Assuming no one turned up beforehand, of course.

At first, Stasya was too distracted by the searing in her eyes to hear the stranger enter. However, when she felt the hand on her head, panic surged through her, and she instinctively kicked out, digging her nails into the carpet as she frantically scrambled away. “Нет! Да отвали ты от меня, (NO! LEAVE ME ALONE,)” she screamed, blinking blearily and twisting her head around in a vain attempt to see her “attacker”. Gradually, blurry shapes began to resolve themselves into normal vision, and she gasped to see a pale haired girl laying a short distance away from her. “Ах ! I- я прошу прощения ! Я не знал, что ты a- Ты в порядке ? (Ah! I-I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were a- Are you alright?)”

Rolling onto her knees, she crawled over to the girl, the black scales around her face melting into pale skin. “Мне очень жаль , что я не мог видеть , и вы меня напугали . Вы ранены? (I’m very sorry, I couldn’t see, and you startled me. Are you hurt?)”

@sakurasan

The first thing Christian noticed when he awoke was the fact that he could not any part of his body. As hard as he tried, he could not get any of his limbs to budge. It was as if someone had set a car on top of him. It was starting to get hard to breathe, and that’s when the panic started to set in. Christian strained, and was just barely able to get his mouth open.

“Hello? Is there anyone around? Help!”

The words escaped his lips as nothing but gusts of wind. At this point, Christian strained to tear his eyes open. He groaned and started to feel an almost burning sensation in his eyelids as they slowly moved apart.

His vision was blurry, but it was easy to tell that he wasn’t in his room. For one thing, the ceiling wasn’t the cream color it should have been; instead, it was a bright, almost unnatural white, like that of a hospital room.
Hospital room…

Christian realized that one, he was able to breathe; two, that he was breathing extremely fast. He slowed his breathing and calmed himself down. He tried to think of how he ended up in the room with the white ceiling. He closed his eyes.

Okay, so, you were driving back from a party. It was a Friday night. You dropped of Alyssa, and then Kate, and then Derek. Then what… Think. Think.

The boy took in a deep breath and slowly closed his right hand into a fist. He opened it, and pressed each of his fingertips to the tip of his thumb; it was something he did when he was thinking, and it was something to check if he had any motor function at all.

I was on my way home. I figured I’d take a shortcut and take the left through the construction zone than take a right. I made it a little ways before – shit!

It was the accident. He sighed and balled his hand into a fist again. The whole street was dark. He didn’t see the car coming. He wasn’t even sure if the car had its headlights on, but he was sure of the fact that the car collided straight into the side of his Audi. The car had flipped over three times, landing on the hood, and he could hear footsteps before passing out.

He was in the hospital. He was sure of it now. Christian strained and lifted his head up, and grunted in surprise.
His clothes was still on instead of a hospital gown, and there was no indication that this was any kind of hospital room. There were no monitors, no medical equipment, no signs around the room about general health. The room actually looked more like a hotel room, than anything.

One thing was now certain – Christian had to get up. The straining started again, and after a difficult few minutes, he was sitting up in bed. The headache that had been with him since he was up, but only now chose to present itself, had subsided into nothing but a small throbbing. It was manageable. Christian finally got himself to his feet and shuffled slowly to the door. He had chosen not to freak out just yet; if the door was locked he would. Just as he was reaching for the door, there was a small click. Christian lunged for the door, turning the knob as fast as he could. He relaxed when it turned, and he opened the door.

Christian was instantly greeted by a sign on the opposite walls with different arrows, specifying different locations. He read “cafeteria,” and his stomach immediately started to grumble. Although he had registered the sounds of other people coming from the left, he left the room looking to the right, in the direction of the cafeteria. He was able to make out another kid just turning the corner to the hallway that lead to the cafeteria, and as he opened his mouth to call out to the kid, he felt something bump into him.

@Lillium @Jinxer

Some new people began to crowd the hall. One girl was screaming, others were confused. The screaming made him concerned, it was certainly Russian. A taller guy walked up to Nikolai and the girl and put himself between them. The young man asked the girl to calm down before he turned to Nikolai and asked if he spoke English. Nikolai was confused for a second, this guy spoke English with an American accent. Nikolai closed his mouth and tried to remember what little English he'd learned in school.

"Da, little bit..." Nikolai said calmly, he crossed his arms and looked around the bigger guy at the girl he'd been yelling at. He wanted to keep yelling at her but didnt bother, this new guy had his attention. Screaming from the Russian girl continued, Nikolai was growing concerned. Presently he only knew of one other Russian in this place and would be comfortable having someone he was capable of confiding in, purely in his mother tongue.

"Where in hell are we?" Nikolai said, he uncrossed his arms and walked down the hall to the door of the room where the girl was screaming in Russian. She was on the floor, another girl with her. The screaming girl was small, pale skin, black hair, blue eyes and she had scales retracting from around her face. Nikolai wanted to be freaked out but then understood what this place was. It was a gathering of freaks. He planted his feet and looked directly at the Russian girl.

"Вставай, это не время плакать!" (Come on! This is no time to cry!) He ordered and walked back to the tall guy, "You have idea where we are? I come from Sverdlovsk, Russia. Your accent is American, yes?"

Abel watched as the Russian guy came back after speaking - err, yelling at another Russian speaker. What the heck? Were they in Russia? He sized the guy, noting his Mohawk that touched an inch or two above Abel's head. Two Russians? The first guy he'd heard speak had used an English accent. Russians, Brits, and Americans?

"Yeah, American." He said touching his finger to his chest indicating himself. He waved his hands to the other kids in the hallway. "They-" He said, looking back to the Russian. "America and England. I don't know where we are." He said, trying to reciprocate his thoughts to the guy. "You appeared there." He pointed to him and emphasized "appeared." He touched his forehead. "I see in my head." He marched to the door to the room the Russian girl was in. He pointed to her, then rubbed the skin on his arm. "Her skin changed." He said, then motioned to the other kids.

"Maybe- them - everyone. Everyone has powers." He said, searching the kid's eyes for any sign of understanding. He swept his bangs back against his head and blew a puff of air, feeling the stress of this situation.

@HellHoundWoof

Irina had been on the verge of slapping the Russian guy in front of her but another young man intervened when she least expected. She stared at the taller of the two and listened to the on-going conversation of them trying to figure out where they were and how they came to be, as well as why they were there.

The dark haired girl stood there as she listened to the tall guy that stated he was American and gasped once it clicked in her head what he was getting at. She acknowledged that the appearing guy had said he was from Russia, but she chose to remain quiet about that.

"Um. American?" she spoke to the tall guy again, not having gotten his name before. ""What if that is not true for everyone?" Her accent was quite prominent but her English was fairly well. If she tried, she could probably hide her accent but at the moment, trying to fit in was not in her agenda. Especially if all of these other people had 'powers'. She didn't have powers. She heard her occasional voices, but that was normal wasn't it? Her mother said so. Her mother heard voices as well. Or at least she would tell Irina that she would.

At that moment, she could hear what was going through most, if not all the minds around.

Confusion. Stress. Anger. Fear. Lack of familiarity.

"I'm... My name is Irina." Trying to help with the lack of familiarity.

Her eye contact broke from the tall guy to begin looking around the hallway they were in. There were others that had, instead of coming over to the sounds of panic, had gone off into the direction to the 'cafeteria'. "What if they know something?"

@SheriffLlama@HellHoundWoof

Everything seemed to drain away as if the very air had gone out of the hall. Mara blinked as she took in the scene around her as everyone froze in place.'Oh..' her mind numbly muttered as the reality set in but as soon as the pieces clicked the world popped back into play. And when she meant popped it literally popped as a boy appeared literally out of thin air.

She managed a startled cry as suddenly the hallway exploded in chaos as a girl kicked at the boy. Strings of foreign language echoed in the hall as Mara felt her heart leap back into her throat and firmly lodge there. Why were they speaking...whatever it was they were speaking? Russian? She wasn't sure; she wasn't fluent in any language other than English. What if she was in another country? Who knows how long she was out? Her eyes wildly darted around until they settled on a sign written in English. For some reason it offered her a bit of small comfort. Pushing off from the wall Mara hesitated; what was she to do? Part of her wanted to interject at the two screaming as she would do with her siblings but what if they didn't understand her?

In her hesitation another boy the hall rushed forward, "Hey, calm down!" He said, trying to put some distance between them. Part of her felt relived he had stepped in. At least someone was willing to to put a stop to it. "You speak English?" He asked. Her brows arched slightly as she waited for an answer. If everyone could find at least a common tongue things might go a little smoother. Suddenly her attention shifted as another boy passed her. Seemingly nonplussed by the chaos that had erupted around them. Shooting him a curious glace as he carefully picked his way around the throng of people and slipped around the corner, 'Okay, not weird at all.'

"I'm... My name is Irina."

'Ah, shit.' She had missed something. The smaller girl seemed to know English though her accent was thick. By this point she felt rattled. The constant ebb and flow of adrenaline had left her feeling shaken. Her throat burned as she tried to swallow. She needed something to drink. Mara shifted backwards looking at the numbers on the doors. Which room was hers again? Shoot. She had been so wrapped up in shock she didn't pay attention to what room she had emerged from. 'Seven?' The door wasn't too far from where she was and the door still stood slightly ajar. At this point she wasn't fully sure she cared if it was the right or the wrong room as she more or less stumbled in.

'Oh..' her mind mumbled what she could not as she came face to face with a young girl. She didn't look to be more than ten and with tears in her eyes Mara felt her heart lurch. The faces of her siblings flashed before her. How will they fair without her? She could feel tears burn in her eyes but quickly blinked them away, "Are you OK?"

Her voice was stronger but still harsh. She didn't want to frighten the girl though she was sure she wasn't exactly pleasant to look at. Nervously she ran her fingers through her hair; peeling off the matted pieces that had dried to her forehead. Yeah, she was definitely a little rough looking.

@Vocab