Waking up in an unfamiliar place again, Astrid exhaled, squeezing her eyes shut against the nauseating brightness. She perked an ear, but there was nothing; even her heartbeat was hushed.

I should look around and try to find a way to get out before...before they do whatever they're going to do.

But with her limbs refusing to obey, she lay there, nose tickled by the imperceptible trace of bleach. The longer she remained frozen, the stronger it became, oozing from the sheets and seeping out of the walls.

I'm going to count to three, and then open my eyes. The fogginess that still clutched at her brain made it difficult as her dry lips formed the words. One...two...three.

Astrid's eyelids fluttered and her eyes watered from the glare of the white walls. Struggling to bring her hand to her eyes, she gasped at the stiffness in her joints; but at least there was no pain.

Letting her head drop to the side, Astrid scanned her prison. The walls blended seamlessly with the ceiling and floor as if an artist had painted them in a single stroke, so smooth it lacked any apparent texture. They rippled in a non-existent breeze, floor buckling and ceiling dipping in from unseen pressures; it made her stomach roll and her eyes heavy from the strain of trying to make sense of the motion.

"Ugh, my head." Astrid's fingers brushed across her puffy nose, crusty with blood that flaked off and fluttered to the ground.

I can only imagine what I look like right now. The short laugh that escaped her throat morphed into a grimace at the burning it produced in her throat. She needed water--water and food.

There had to be some way for the minders to monitor her. Maybe if they knew she was awake, they'd bring her those things or at least take her to a bathroom where she could get water from the faucet.

Astrid sucked in a deep breath before rolling over; it actually wasn't as bad as the agony she'd imagined would course through her body. It was more like someone had wrapped heavy chains around her limbs. But at least her vision had stabilized somewhat.

Planting her hands on the mattress on either side of her chest, she pushed herself up and onto her knees. The ominous glare of a security camera embedded in the wall was no surprise, and she lifted a hand in a feeble wave.

Right ear twitching in time with her heartbeat, Astrid folded her hands in her lap and waited. Seconds...minutes...hours...there was no concept of time and it made her want to scream, bang her fists against the wall, and rip her hair out. Ravenhold, a maximum-security prison below the very heart of the city, implemented this tactic to disorient and eventually break prisoners.

"And I'm such a dangerous prisoner," she muttered, gnawing at her nails, trying to ignore the taste of dust and blood. Cold creeping across her clammy skin, she clawed at the stiff sheet, wrapping it around her hunched shoulders, careful not to touch the brick-colored spots splashed across it.

The sound of her hoarse breath grated against her ears and Astrid tried to distract herself with music; but the notes were too sharp, clashing with the drumming of her heart and threatening to split her skull in two. And the only images that took the place of her gory memories were clear streams and tranquil oceans.

Clamping her hands over her eyes, she tried to dam the torrent of thoughts with her icy fingertips. A flash of sunlight on golden hair that turned into thick blood, dripping to a grimy floor, a spider-web of cracks eating through the concrete to form a face. Its fractured features were soft with large and strangely life-like eyes that stared blankly at Astrid. She knew that face, knew every detail of it from its cupid bow and round chin down to the way the cheeks dimpled and the corners of the mouth wrinkled with smiles. Inaudible child-like whispers wove around her, growing in urgency.

Who is this...this woman, and how do I know her? Even unspoken, the words felt wrong, like she was betraying the woman by not speaking her name. The whispers certainly seemed to think so, digging into her skin.

Something shiny and black oozed from the cracks like tears.

Astrid. Astrid. Astrid. Astrid, the whispers murmured. Astrid. Astrid. Astrid.

"Stop it! Make it stop!" she screamed, but the quivering hands over her eyes refused to move.

Astrid.The face's mouth twisted into a smile, cracks rearranging themselves as the familiar voice instructed, Go with them.

"No, no!" Astrid backed away.

But she was a second too slow, a hand snaking out of the darkness to grab her wrist. The scar etched into the rough skin grew, leaking onto Astrid's skin.

"H-help me! Someone help me! Please!"

As darkness surrounded her, the hand tightened around her wrist, shaking her harder and harder.

"It's okay, it's okay!" At the deep voice, it all dissolved and her hands were pulled away.

She was gasping for breath, frantically scanning her arm; it was as smooth as ever.

"Ma'am, are you okay?"

Astrid looked up, unable to make out more than the blurry outline of a dark jumpsuit.

"No...I...Yeah..." She shook her head, blinking until her vision cleared.

The minder was on the younger side with a baby face void of the hardened look veterans carried. Even her hair was different from the darker hues, a flaming red with orange tips. Clearing her throat, she said, "Please come with me, then."

"Where...where are we going?" Astrid croaked.

Without even so much as another glance, the young woman strode to the door. She pulled it open, lingering just long enough for Astrid to scramble to her feet before releasing it. Her legs didn't want to work any better than before, and she had to hold onto the wall to keep from falling.

The minders seemed fond of the sterile aesthetic. A smile lifted the corner of Astrid's mouth before morphing into a frown.

I was scared. I had a dream or something, but what was it about? Strange. It was lurking in the corner of her mind, just out of reach. This feeling, she'd had before--but it'd never bothered her quite like it was now.

"How long have I been sleeping?" she ventured.

No answer.

"Are my parents coming?"

The soft swish of hair against smooth fabric was becoming irritating and Astrid had the sudden urge to just pull it.

"Your parents have been notified," the girl droned, glancing into one of the cells by a window in the door as they passed by. "How are you feeling?"

"Uh." She grunted as she stumbled. "Dizzy. Weak."

The clump of the girl's boots reminded Astrid of Lucifer. Where was he now? Did he ever find Dreamy, or get Tommy's body to wherever he'd been taking it? And that man on the rooftop, was he--

"Don't think about him," she whispered. She forced herself to focus on the assortment of weapons strapped to the minder: a knife on one calf, a gun on her thigh, and another on the opposite hip. The fluorescent lights glittered on a chain around her neck that most likely attached to another knife, and fingerless gloves plated with thin metal she wore definitely hid retractable blades.

Younger than twenty-five and already being trained to kill.

"I'll wait out here," she said, breaking Astrid out of her thoughts.

Astrid took a step towards the door a few steps away through which a sliver of yellow light shone. She shot a questioning glance at the minder, who gave a slight nod.

Opening the door the rest of the way, she walked into the room. It was large and housed several stalls, some showers, and some toilets. A battered metal shelf ran across one wall, piled high with towels and maybe clothing--Astrid couldn't tell. On the wall opposite the stalls were a few sinks and a crystal-clear mirror.

Of course.

It was deserted, the irregular dripping of a showerhead echoing in the stillness. On the edge of one of the sinks sat a neatly folded white square of cloth. When it came to smart color choices, minder HQ wasn't doing so hot. Though maybe the real prisoners wore something else.

Lifting her shoulder in a shrug, Astrid dragged her feet across the smooth tiles to get it. Her eyes were inevitably drawn to the mirror. She knew she looked horrible, but this was worse than she'd expected--reddened eyes ringed by puffy dark circles stared back and blood was crusted under her nose and across her forehead. It formed fingerprints that traced from her jaw to temple. Her hair was somewhere between tan and grey due to the grime clinging to the tangled locks and scabs were already forming on the five thin gashes that wrapped from her tricep to her bicep. The shirt resembled rags someone would dig out of a dumpster.

Gingerly, she reached up with both hands to touch her face to verify that this was actually her. After catching one glimpse of them in the mirror, she let them drop back to her side.

"It looks like I murdered someone," Astrid whispered.

She squeezed her eyes shut, sucking in deep breaths.

I didn't kill him. He was still breathing. You did what you had to do, Astrid.

Opening her eyes, she turned and stumbled in the direction of the shelf to grab a towel. Tears rolled down her face leaving white streaks. She made no move to wipe them away, letting them fall silently to the cold floor.

Shivers raced from her scalp to her feet. Turning the shower on, she huddled in the far corner waiting for the water to heat up. But the moments ticked by and it wasn't getting any warmer even though the knob was turned as hot as it would go.

Her head kept dropping as she was lulled to sleep by the steady hiss of water. Sighing, she gave her head a shake and stepped under the showerhead.

When her head dipped again, her feet caught her attention, so white they blended in with the floor. Blood swirled around the drain like a dragon formed of vapor, its aroma rising with the steam. The shivering intensified, causing her teeth to chatter despite clenching her jaw as tightly as she could.

About five minutes later, she turned the water off and wrapped the thin towel tightly around her body. The room was still deserted, so she scuttled across the open space to grab the clothes. It took her less than thirty seconds to pull the skirt and shirt on which were made of a stiff material similar to the sheet.

Now the trembling had changed to muscle spasms and the tell-tale buzzing filled her ears.

This can't be happening. She was having another episode, and this time, there was no orange bottle sitting on the dresser beside her bed to save her.

Sprinting for the door, the muscles in her legs seized and she lurched forward. Right before the point of tipping over, the muscle spasm passed and she reached the door. Throwing open the door, she stumbled another step. Her legs gave out and she fell, her arms frozen against her chest.

The minder jumped away from the wall, eyes wide.

"H-help...help me." Her throat swelled to the point where she could barely breathe, vision blurring and starting to fade as the girl crouched down. Fingers wrapped around her arm, gently tugging.

"Are you okay? Can you hear me?" More words tumbled out, but the girl might as well have been speaking Greek.

The ringing in Astrid's ears blocked out everything except the muffled yells of the minder and the tramp of running feet. She rolled onto her back, gasping for breath as a burning heat poured through her veins, starting from her chest and spreading outward.

A sudden burst of light seared her eyes and she cried out in pain. The minder's fingernails dug into her arm for a moment, then released.

Too much yelling, too many screams...