Hayden stirred awake, her head pounding as pain shot through her skull and the rest of her body. Getting herself off the floor, her sore shoulder ached and burned as she got herself up. Looking around, darkness was the only thing that greeted her; torches and candles from distant places broke the shadows and gave enough light to see to some degree.

Slowly the ringing in her head subsided, only to be replaced by the cult-like mantras of an old man. It was a very pleasent thing to wake up on a stone floor to the voice of a senile old fool going on about someone's "handiwork" and "blessed black soul". Creepy was an understatement. The first thing she should do was to get up and-

Shit.

Hayden took a good look down and discovered her bondage of rope and fiber. Is this what that man referred to as "handiwork"? Does he have some strange kinky fetish? Twisting and fidgeting her wrists, Hayden felt the rough rope burn and scratch into her wrists already turning red. However, the ropes had gotten looser by exactly .071%; it felt like Hayden's hands would sooner just fall off than freeing her shackles.

Sighing, she resolved to just look around and recall what happened. She remembered a... police car? And a truck, something about a murder and a hospital. Panning her eyes around, it was clear that this was no hospital she knew of. The cold stone felt slick to the touch, Hayden spotted some kind of vegetation around the edges of the cell and the iron bars that caged her in like some disobedient pet.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard someone else walk in, a girl. She looked like doll, her skin white enough to shine even in these dim lights with long hair that reached her waist. She looked like someone's childhood doll come to life; only with a gun. The shot she fired rung in Hayden's skull, causing her to wince once more. "Who the hell is this girl and who gave her gun?", Hayden thought as she shook her head to clear her vision of her hair, her eyes getting used to her new setting.