The city had become a kingdom of ice, as yesterday's snow storm blew in. Layering tarmac with white, and frosting windows with ice cold fog. Mirage City may have not been any different from your average city, except it lacked the noise of traffic and the sound of busy crowds. Instead all you were left was the electric buzz and hum of modern conveniences around you. 

An electric swarming, surrounding you, whining. A noise you were familiar with, only exasperated by the fact that you were alone in a comfy bed. A pamphlet on the nightstand, read Reflections Hotel, premier hotel of Mirage City. Your head throbbing with a cerebral earthquake. 

You might slightly remember how you got here. Someone sent you a text message or a letter via email, maybe even a physical copy. Said they knew. Knew what? For all you knew they had nothing on you. Still you took the bait, curious and willing to play someone’s bluff. Some individual waited for you in a suit, their face hidden from your view. You were invited for coffee, maybe you were invited to a park, it didn’t matter. 

All you knew was that you started to feel woozy. Vertigo. The world spinning. Your eyes fluttering shut. And now they gave you a comfortable bed. How nice of them. Turning on the TV as a habit of your morning routine ,or maybe you turned on the computer to browser the net, there is a message for you;

[center][i]Welcome to Mirage City. As we do not want to cause distress to your current circumstance, we will try to make this experience as painless and as less traumatizing as we can. You are not alone, there are several other individuals here and there are services for you. You are equipped with food and all the comforts you would normally experience in your day to day life. Breakfast is waiting for you, that is where you will meet the others. 

This experience is meant to bring light things you have left behind that you must be reminded of. We are sorry in advance if this experience causes any further emotional trauma. However, our job is not for your comfort, but to rehabilitate you. 

We wish you as comforting of an experience you can have.[/i][/center]

What the fuck did any of that mean? There are no other channels. Even when you try. There is no other way of browsing the net either. All of our comforts and you cannot get TV or the internet. Are you fucking kidding? 

According to the message there were others. Others, clearly there was some kind of trick to all of this. You look around the luxurious looking room. Beige walls and several paintings, there is a restroom, and everything looks expensive despite probably coming from a thrift shop or some Goodwill. The chairs were wooden, with burgundy cushions with golden swirling designs. The curtains a deep red that complimented the beige walls, and the TV screen the latest model. Everything seemed normal though. 

Who would want to kidnap you? Pleasant experience. Emotional trauma. You kidnap someone and you wish to not cause them emotional trauma. Fuck them, whoever they were. Should you go downstairs to meet the others?

You didn’t want to. At first flopping over onto the comforter of your bed. This all had to be a bad winter dream. There’s no one in the world who would want to kidnap you.

At least you don’t think so. Was the pizza man mad at you because you gave him tip in change? Could it have been the mailman? Gah this is so frustrating.

[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjM2Ljk0NGRmNS5VMnQ1WlEsLC4wAAAA/raven-scream.regular.png[/img][/center]

The Hotel Room had a surprisingly familiar feel to it. He had been in Lakeview for so long that this felt no different. The frost on the windows - looking out to a labyrinth of concrete. He placed his hands on the frost and watched as the heat of his hand created a phantom grasp fading slowly back as it froze over once again. Use to silence the buzzing hum. He felt robotic. Room vibrated with fuzzy sounds. He raised his hand to the sounds with curiosity. He could see them. Electricity in the air. 

Suddenly a wash of anxiety interrupted his familiarity. Everything was similar. But there was no schedule. He woke up late. Normally you are up at seven in the morning. Have breakfast at eight. Then you talk to your word magician. No needle taker. No arm band that makes your arms hurt. A sudden sensation of panic came over him.

Remember Skye is good.

This is Skye’s vacation. 

Skye deserved it.

It seemed settled then in the council of his mind. It eased his anxiety a bit. His head is all scrambled like eggs. Hard to focus right now on what he was doing. Picking at a scab on his lower lip to self sooth. He should go downstairs then? That’s where he was suppose to be. That’s where they were suppose to be.

He paced a bit from the door back to the window. Picking. Picking. An all too familiar taste of metal. His lip hurt. He was forgetting, forgetting something. He remembers the magic spell the word magicians gave him. Now he can go down where he was suppose per the paper that gave him instructions.

There were others here. To consider speaking to others had his heart race considerably. Faster. Faster. Biological drums. He didn’t know how to calm these sensations of fear. The word magicians would tell him things like deep breaths. So he did so, in a long, narrow hallway. Cut with golden lines. Like they were inside some urban brain. 

He didn’t mind an urban brain it’s humming would become something soothing soon. It was what the urban brain hid. It’s lies and sins. That is what he minded.