[center][h1][b]Lucie Valentine[/b][/h1]
[h2]Room 12; hallway[/h2][/center]

Lucie was alive. And that came as a surprise.

Her mind recoiled at that, and then erratically attempted to piece together [i]why[/i] 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 [url=http://pre05.deviantart.net/61e9/th/pre/f/2015/315/d/7/morrigan_da_by_lagunaya-d9gbtya.jpg]Morrigan,[/url] 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. 

[i]And after that? What did I do after that? [/i]

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

[i]That's right, I hailed a taxi.[/i]

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.