As she descended into the empty void, she saw pictures flash by. One was of her eighth birthday party - her favorite. She had a cake piled high with icing, and the candles were in the shape of an eight. And standing beside her as she leaned in to blow out the candles was her father, a grin playing at the corner of his lips. Another was the day she finally learned how to ride a bike, and as she felt as she was about to fall, her father stood behind her. He was saying something that the void stole from his mouth, but she knew precisely what he was saying: "Don't think about the fall, think about the ride." The image faded into another with her lying upon her bed at age of six, her face ashen. Her father went to sit beside her on the corner of the bed. He was murmuring something - a story. Harry Potter, she believed it was. Immediately, Alexa's face lit up in the image, and Alexa couldn't help but remember how jubilant she was. But staring back at these images, she felt nothing other than that of sorrow. Her heart seemed to sink into the depths of an ocean far too deep to reach or even see, for that matter. She cradled herself, forcing the tears to be pushed back; it seemed that she was doing that a lot lately. Suddenly the images sped up, and her eyes had only mere seconds to look at each of them before they would disappear in a poof of what appeared to be smoke. Tears welled up in her eyes. This isn't beautiful - this is torture, Alexa though as she slumped to her feet. The images were swirling around at her in a dizzying circle. She forced herself to close her eyes, but the images closed in closer around her. Finally, rage overtook her emotions.

"STOP! STOP IT!" she screamed on the top of her lungs. For a frightening second, the images resumed circling, until it merely hung around her, the images unmoving. Without another even slight movement, the images erupted in smoke, wafting up towards the ceiling of the darkness until it would dissipate. A stray tear landed at her knees. Alexa looked at it for a moment before wiping away the remainder of the tears that stained her cheeks. But before she could wipe her left cheek, a burst of blindingly white light pierced through the darkness from where the tear landed, and a new array of images began to take shape. But they weren't of her father. In one image, she had fallen, and a huge gash on her knee had taken shape. In the image, Alexa was at the age of ten and was wincing, biting her lip. Her mother wandered into the image holding a piece a bottle of alcohol and a bandaid. Though there was no sound, she knew her mother was saying, "This is going to hurt, but it will be over before you know it, okay?" The ten year-old Alexa nodded warily. Another image showed Alexa peering over her mother's shoulder as she baked her eleventh birthday cake. Alexa desired so dearly to eat that icing that was on the counter, but her mother just smiled and told her to wait. "Patience is a virtue," she said. And there was another with her mother pulling Alexa's hair into a beautiful bun, surrounded by a braid. It was her first school dance. As her mother stuck in the last bobby pin, she glanced back at her mother, and they shared a wide smile. Her mother's brown eyes were twinkling as she gazed at her daughter. And this time when she spoke, the sound was there. "Oh, Alexa, you are - WAKE UP! PLEASE!" she shouted, now standing, her eyes placid with fear. Alexa jolted awake, drenched with sweat. Josh was holding her shoulders, gazing into her eyes. Relief swept over his face.

"Oh, thank God you're okay," he murmured, releasing his grip on her shoulders. She put her hand to her forehead, noticing a headache beginning to formulate near her right temple. She glanced around the cell, and immediately noticed Shijie lying on the ground at the right corner of the cell. She scrambled over towards him, his usually alert and focused expression was replaced by a dreadfully pale face, devoid of any emotion.

"Oh, Shijie...," she said, placing her hand against his forehead. He flinched at her touch, and almost instantly his breathing increased, his expression turning into profound anxiety. Her hand recoiled, and she glanced back towards Joshua.

"What's wrong with him?" Josh rubbed the back of his neck before replying.

"I'm not sure, precisely, but it seems that his energy is starting diminish - the same thing that happened to us. Do you feel drained of energy?" Alexa didn't realise it with everything happening at once, but now that she thought about it, she realised that even bolting over towards Shijie made her breathe heavily as if she had just ran five miles without stopping.

"Yes... Why is that? What did... Frenchmen do to us?" Alexa asked, fear creeping up her tone. Josh shook his head, shrugging his shoulders.

"Dunno."

"What happened when you-"

"Fainted?" he interjected. She nodded. "I... nothing." She knew he was holding something from her, but she didn't press on. Whatever it was, it was probably for him and him alone.

"I awake," emanated a groggy voice from the right corner. Shijie rose, wiping the sleep from his eyes with his wrist.

"I miss anysing?" It could have been Shijie just woken up from a deep slumber save for the frown picking at the corner of his mouth, which struck Alexa as queer because he always seemed overall fairly cheerful. What had he seen? Josh shook his head.

"No. Only, if you take the facts that we all fainted into account. Other than that no." Shijie raked his hand through his hair, dandruff dusting his shoulders. Alexa was about to mention a good product that ridded of dandruff, but realised how trivial that would've sounded in the dire situation they were in, and restrained herself.

"I... need some space," Shijie said, and cradled himself in the back corner. Poor guy, Alexa thought. He didn't deserve this. He didn't ask for any of this, and yet, here he was scrabbling away at perhaps a horrendous nightmare. Josh glanced at her, and mouthed, "Go to that wall," pointing to a wall opposite of Shijie. She nodded. They scooted towards the back, and the despairingly cold essence of the walls returned, filling her bones. If they were ever going to get out, Alexa swore she would situate herself next to a heater until she burned to a crisp, because she would not stand another moment next to those darn, dreary walls. She felt her back stiffen as a small patch of exposed flesh came into contact with the wall.

"You don't think he has a heater around, do you?" Josh asked, trying at smile. Alexa sighed.

"No. I don't feel Frenchmen is gentleman enough to provide his guests," she said, hissing out the words, "to provide us with suitable arrangements." She had figured that there was some sort of a camera or recording device that caught all of their speech in the cell - otherwise Frenchmen wouldn't have replied to her futile accusation. The thought of being watched constantly made her shiver. It was like a hawk studying its prey until the prey would come into clear view unprotected. Ultimately, the kidnap had taken a great deal of a toll on Alexa. Sure, she recognized Josh as an ally now, and saw herself as a better person, but she felt that she would be driven mad if she were to remain here any longer. Her faith in any help coming to their rescue was vanishing like sand running through her fingers. "Josh... Do you think anyone knows about our disappearances yet?" Alexa inquired. Josh didn't say anything at first. Then, with a brightened expression, he spoke.

"I propose we do not lose hope just yet. Scott hasn't captured Louise, and she seems to be the misshapen piece of the puzzle. I say that our hope should lie with her, whether anyone knows about our disappearance or not." Somehow, his words filled Alexa with a renewed sense of positivity, and she closed her eyelids, envisioning herself back at her grade school, at the age of nine, handing her teacher a daffodil with twinkling green eyes. And her eyes were full of something she hadn't seen in quite some time. Life.