I wake up on a sea of white pillows.

My head feels detached from my body. The white light sears into my eyes and stings through my brain like hot iron. I gasp in pain and cradle my head on the soft ground.

The air in the room is heavy with the scent of fabric softener and gasoline.

Am I awake? Is this real?

I am laying face-down in a padded room. It's straight out of a horror movie scene. It even has an ominous metal door with a food slot in the bottom.

My eyes widen in horror as a rush of puke comes up my throat. I retch onto the ground and force everything out of my body. I heave violently until my throat is raw and burning from coughing and stomach acid.

Once I finish trying to puke up my lungs, I finally manage to breathe through the coughing. My body goes limp from exhaustion and I lay still on the ground.

Why am I throwing up? I'm not sick or anything. You only throw up when you have a major concussion, not a minor one.

A tremor of fear causes my heart to race.

Is it a major one now?

It's a wonder I haven't given myself a permanent brain injury. At this point, I'm surprised I can still remember my own name after all the blows to the head I've taken.

It takes me a few seconds to realize the padded room is empty.

Jungkook and Taehyung are gone.

I lift my head carefully and force my eyes to adjust to the blinding light. "Jungkook? Taehyung?" I ask pointlessly but still clinging to the hope they can somehow hear me. "Are you there?"

I make the mental decision not to imagine the amount of pain they are being put through for escaping and being caught. I force myself not to think about Hoseok either.

It would be too much to bear. I don't think I'll be able to cope with these thoughts. I have to ignore them. I can't dwell on these things.

All that matters is the next step forward.

But the reality of the padded room acts as a harsh slap to the face.

There is no moving forward. There is no escape from this fate.

I begin to crawl towards the door only to see there is no doorknob on the inside. The taste of acid floods my mouth again and I feel sick all over again. I inhale shakily and run my hand over the smooth surface of the door, stunned.

There's no escape from this room. I can't open the door even if I wanted to.

"Good morning."

I gasp in surprise and pull back from the door. I look up at the slot to find a pair of eyes staring down at me. They aren't Sam's muddy green eyes, these eyes are older and worn around the edges. He stares at me with mild curiosity, "How did you sleep?"

His casual tone sets me on edge.

I glower at him as nausea builds inside my stomach. My legs are weak with fatigue so I don't bother to stand up. I might pass out from the effort.

He blinks at me, expecting an answer.

"I didn't sleep," my voice is hoarse from puking, "I was knocked unconscious."

"That's unfortunate," he states without a hint of empathy, "I thought they used a tranquilizer on you. Oh well."

"What do you want?" I snap, tired of his taunting. "If you want me to tell you where he is then you're out of luck."

The man's eyes narrow. "Who? I don't need to know where anybody is. I only need you." The corners of his eyes wrinkle with a smile, "And I know where you are," he teases in a strange tone.

Uncomfortable with his intense stare, I scoot further from the door and avoid the puddle of puke on the ground. He must be my guard. Maybe Sam is the only one allowed to interrogate us.

"I guess I should waste any time..." he relented, finally looking away from the slot. He looks down at something and all I see is the top of his balding head. "I wasn't expecting the new batch until Monday but I guess the mail can arrive on Sunday. Sam is in a bad mood as it is... I should hurry up."

I blink in confusion, unsure what he's talking about. "What batch? What do you mean?"

The man looks up again and smiles falsely. "You have no idea, do you?"

I clench my jaw as another wave of puke rises up my throat. I shudder as I swallow it back and wince as it burns my throat. "What?"

"There's no need to be afraid... Well, maybe you should be a little afraid. But you should consider yourself lucky, missy. This is the refined version. It's faster than the others, it has a higher success rate."

My eyes widen a fraction. "Refined? What are you talking about?"

Is this a new way to torture me? Are they going to drug me to force me to tell them?

"Is it a truth serum?" I question fearfully.

The man scoffs in laughter, "Why would I need to know anything from you? No, missy, it's not a truth serum. That doesn't exist."

In a world of hybrids and genetic manipulation, we still don't have a truth serum. Didn't see that one coming.

The door opens with a soft pop revealing a large man behind it. He smiles strangely at me and spreads his arms apart but my eye is caught by the object in his left hand.

It's a syringe.

His eyes darken with desire as he looks over me. "There is it," he whispers, stepping into the room, "the face they all make. It's always the same expression."

I scoot further back, struggling to move away from him. My eyes land on the open door behind me. A soft breath of fresh, cold air flows through the doorway. It smells of gasoline and freedom.

I have to escape! If I can get past him and out the door, I can lock him inside of here!

My body tenses with anticipation as he approaches me. I glare at the large man, trying not to think of how afraid I am, and leap to my feet. I nearly threw up from the effort. I stagger forward and attempt to swerve around him.

He catches me by the collar of my jacket and throws me to the ground like a ragdoll. I yelp in pain and end up gagging on my own vomit. I cough violently as I struggle to lift myself off the ground.

His hand presses down on my back and forces me to lay on the ground. I groan quietly and try to fight against him but he puts his weight on his hand. I cough up pieces of things and my vision darkens. I open my mouth to scream but my voice is too hoarse, too quiet to be noteworthy.

No! No this can't be happening! What is he doing?! What is this?!

"Hold still, missy, it'll be over in a second..." He presses his knee between my shoulder blades and holds my right arm down to the ground.

"No!" I throw my head back only to trigger a world of blinding pain. "No, no, please! Don't! I don't know where he is! I swear! Don't do this!" I stare ahead in horror, staring at the open door with pleading eyes. Everything in me prays somebody walks by to see this. Praying that somebody will stop this crazy man from injecting me with whatever he has.

But nobody comes.

I feel the prick of the needle against the back of my neck before the entire area numbs. I let out a ragged scream again and struggled violently in his grip. "NO! NO! LET GO OF ME!"

My eyes roll back into my head and suddenly, the padded room is blurring into a white glow. I scream again but my head hits the cushioned floor.

My stomach drops as if I were falling from a ledge. The light of the room streaks in my eyes and slowly falls away like dying stars. I'm falling into darkness... slipping into the realm of dreams once more... falling, falling, falling until the light flickers out.

A/N: This was a shorter chapter but it has served its purpose! As I wrote this scene, I started to feel nauseous as well, does anybody else feel the same way? Any theories on what happened and what will happen next?