Jacqueline's first impressions were hazy, sluggish thoughts crawling their way to sharpness, a coolness to her cheek, a tepid wetness under her legs and palms, a predominately irony scent mixed with hints of ammonia and an itching, whole body ache that seemed to be dissipating as the long minutes of her return to consciousness passed. The first sound she uttered was a groan turned whimper as her abused throat made its protests known.
 
She tried to open her eyes, her eyelashes fluttering in a struggle, apparently stuck together by something sticky. She brought a hand to her face to rub at her eyes but was stopped by a sharp spike in the irony scent, her heart rate speeding up as she recognized it for what it was – blood. The shock was enough for her eyes to open and she could see thin red strings tearing in half over her lashes, some inevitably getting into her eyes, making her tear up to dispel the aggravators.

The blood and…other bodily fluids where everywhere. [color=FFA07A][i]Fuck, I must have pissed myself.[/i][/color] But that was not all; there were much more unwholesome things there – skin, various meaty and soft tissues, ichor, some other unrecognizable blobs and–
 
Were those shards of bones?

A quiet keening whimper escaped her as she felt nausea overwhelm her and she threw up. First there was nothing but contractions, then went her earlier meal, the occasional food chunks, partly processed, mixed and expelled with digestive fluids. Jacqueline was sweating and trembling, her heart beating faster again, barely having been given any reprieve beforehand. All in all, she felt terrible, and tried valiantly, although not entirely successfully, not to get any vomit on herself. And if the smell was bad before…

When she was finally done, she felt vaguely better. Ignoring the part of the apartment that looked as if from a bad but violent horror movie, she stood up and stumbled her way to the bathroom, going straight into the shower. She undressed while under the stream, trying to clean both her body and her clothes. 

Long, long minutes of intense scrubbing, applying and reapplying of soap, shower gel, shampoo and regenerator, and gallons of warm water later, Jacqueline felt clean. Well, clean[i]er[/i]. She stepped out, avoiding the bloody footprints on her otherwise soft rug, leaving behind her most likely ruined clothes in a soggy but less gory heap, still dripping, the small rivulets of pale red slowly gathering to make their swirling exit via the drain. Still in a daze, she took a towel and, hugging it close to her body, padded barefoot to her bedroom. Careless of the wet patch she would leave behind, she sat on the bed and stared blindly ahead, blinking now and then.
 
Then memories tried to kick in. She suppressed them with great effort. Clearing her throat after another small, pathetic whimper, she calmed down her ragged breathing, counting on each inhale. Then, a phrase came to her mind and she felt as if she were clubbed over the head and struck by lightning in quick succession. [color=FFA07A][i]New security concerns for NSC.[/i][/color]

[color=FFA07A]“Security concerns…you FUCKING BITCH!”[/color] she screeched. Rationally, she knew her mother couldn’t have known that what she experienced was [i]probably[/i] what the upped security measures were about. Rationally, she knew [i]no one[/i], least of all her practical parents, would believe something this horrifying could be true unless they experienced it themselves. Rationally, she knew this might not, in fact, just have happened. Jacqueline was not at all rational just then. And she believed. She believed what happened was very much [i]real[/i]. She seethed long moments at the injustice, the rage, the humiliation and even, yes indeed, even fear. Terror. Something that could easily turn into panic and paranoia.

[color=FFA07A][i]Like HELL. Like[/i] [b]hell[/b] [i]am I letting[/i] that thing [i]control me. God, if I haven’t given in this long to all the bullshit in my life, why would I give in to some monster? No way. NO WAY. [/i][/color]

A determined breath. A straightening of her posture. A turn of her thoughts.

[color=FFA07A][i]Fuck, this is not normal. I can feel it.[/i] It. [i]What is it? Shit, maybe I’m not even human anymore.[/i] [/color]

She looked at her hands. As she flexed them, claws easily manifested, as if sliding out of a hidden sheath beneath her skin. She had felt that change, more than an hour ago now, so this was no surprise. The transformation was just as easy to revert – a thought and there were her hands, her fingers just as they usually were, pinkish flesh over soft tissue, no hard, glistening reddish black chitin anywhere in sight. Even though she wanted nothing more than to forget, flashes of her [i]other form[/i] were ingrained deep into her memory. She wasn’t sure what, exactly, she was. Was [i]that other one[/i] something she could always access as easily, now? [color=FFA07A][i]No matter. What happened, the security, if these two things aren’t connected then my birth name isn’t Jacqueline Aelia Galloway.[/i][/color]

She stood up. Threw her towel to the floor. Opened her wardrobe. Picked out the most unassuming clothes she owned – jeans and jogging wear, she thought – and packed some extras in a small, fashionable if old, black leather backpack. [color=FFA07A][i]I wish I had more actual money,[/i][/color] she thought as she stuffed all the banknotes she kept at home in her wallet. She had a credit card, of course, but her purchases and therefore her location could be tracked if she used it. [color=FFA07A][i]I just hope the rumours about them – and I wish I knew who[/i] [b]they[/b] [i]are in this case – being able to track anything and everything aren’t true. Still…taking my phone with me is out of the question. Just as well that I’m not sure where it is right now. Possibly in that– by the door. Fuck, how am I even going to get past that?[/i][/color]

Her glance passed a walled mirror and she frowned mildly. [color=FFA07A][i]If they’re going to be searching for me, doing it based on appearance isn’t as likely as some other means. Even so…[/i][/color] She packed a stylish sports cap, chik sunglasses and a small case of makeup for later. [color=FFA07A][i]This better not be wasted effort. Whoever deals with cases like this, they might just be waiting outside for me to show up or something. God, just let me get out of this city, and I swear I’ll believe in you. Honest. I need this[/i] that [i]badly. So, [b]please[/b]. Any deity will do. 

Hell.[/i][/color] She felt a minor trembling start but shook out of it. Careful not to step on or otherwise touch any of the gore still left near the entrance – thankfully visible only once inside her actual flat – and after making sure no-one was nearby, closing the door carefully, she made her way confidently to the elevator. [color=FFA07A][i]Appearances still matter, right? I’m just going for a jog. Nothing unusual. All’s well. If I believe it they will too. Shit, this better work.[/i] [/color]