Simone slowly opened her eyes, blinking the last bits of sleep from them as she sat up in herbed, the covers which had been pulled up to around her neck falling to her waist, leaving the petite female’s upper body with its trim lines and small, but still attractive breasts exposed to the cool air. It was early, just how early, Simone was not sure, but the ever so faint light coming in through the window told her it must be dawn, or close. But there were other questions, questions that drew Simone’s attention. The biggest of these questions were… where was she? The last memory Simone had been of trying to flee The Solomon Facility; then all had gone black. She should have died there.. but no/// She was alive.

They had shipped her some place new, those bastards… Why? Simone hissed softly as she pushed the covers roughly aside and stood. The floor was cold to the touch, Simone’s feet being bare, but she did not care. Looking slowly around the room, Simone’s carmine coloured eyes took in the barred window to her right, the wooden, white painted writing desk with its spindle backed chair, and to its left the tall wardrobe against the wall opposite the end of her single, wrought iron frame bed, and to the left of the wardrobe, a door leading into another room. The floor, she noted, was made of stone, and was a bland slate grey colour, as was the ceiling. 

Padding forward, Simone approached the wardrobe and pulled the double doors open. There, inside, hung a set of pink scrubs, along with slippers for her feet. The drawers in the wardrobe held fresh bra and panty sets, and nothing else, save for a cheap, dated looking plastic handled brush and comb. Closing the wardrobe doors, Simone walked slowly to the open door and looked inside. A tiny bathroom with a sink, toilet and walk in shower greeted her. A plain white towel and washcloth hung on a towel rack bolted into the wall to the right of the toilet, across from the shower. Standing in the bathroom doorway, Simone pondered what she should do next, aside from fighting the growing urge to feed…

She was angry, hungry, and she needed a shower. Simone turned and stared icily at the heavy steel door to her right as she left the tiny bathroom and returned to the main room. She didn’t test it, there was no need. Unless her new overeaters were bloody fools, that door was more then strong enough to hold her. No; she would wait, wait for a chance, perhapse one would come later. They weren’t going to keep her in here forever, and not send someone around to pester her in some manner, to go on about something, and poke her with needles. Simone’s mouth became a hard line at this, and a shiver ran through her small frame. She would kill them first before she allowed anyone to stick any needles in her again. 

It took a bit of doing, but Simone gathered herself eventually and optd to take that bloody shower. Oh, the steaming hot water did feel rather good as it flowed down over her head and body. Hell; they even hd given her a nice scented body wash and shampoo, lilac it was, but that didn’t mean much, did it? No, it just meant this prison was slightly nicer then the last she had been in. It only meant she was being treated a degree better, but they would still see her as nothing more then a tool, a broken tool, one meant to be prodded and poked and cast aside when her uses were up.

No, she had to escape this place, wherever it was. She had to go find the answers. She had to seek out the truth. Trying to think about this only made Simone’s head pound and she collapsed against te wall near the exit door, both hands gripping her head rightly, tiny, pointed fingernails digging into her scalp as she gasped for breath. Perhaps this was, no it was the reason that Simone did not take note of Tony’s entrance. Tony, wasting no time, jammed a needle into Simone’s left arm, drawing a angry growl from the petite vampire moments before another needle was jammed into her arm in almost the same place. God dammit all, Simone seethed, she was going to kill this bloody idiot… but. 

She was feeling suddenly weaker and she couldn’t shift. “. We’re going to take a little stroll now,” Tony chuckled softy as he pulled Simone roughly to her feet. “I bet you’re wondering why you can’t shift, why you feel weak, and just so mellow, yes?” A heated glare from Simone made the nurse laugh again as he pulled the door open and pushed, pulled Simone out into the empty hallway. “You were given a relaxing agent, along with something to inhibit that nasty little shifting of yours,” Tony explained as he ushered Simone through the halls of St Osmond’s until they came to the cafeteria. ‘Oh, I almost forgot, you asked where you were, didn’t you. Welcome to St Osmond’s Institute for the mentally insane.”

Simone was pushed roughly into a chair and left alone, after Tony had, in a bored and disinterested way, explained the cafeteria and pointed out the sealed packets containing lycan blood. Simone stared at the nurse until he had taken his leave of the room; then turned her attention back inward. There were many others in the room, some she knew what they were, some she did not. Standing, Simone shouldered her way through those standing and made her way to the food serving area. Grabbing up a packet of blood, that looked a bit like a Sunkist packet, Simone buried her fangs in it, ignoring the straw provided. Her eyes slide closed briefly as the blood ran coolly down her throat. Gods it tasted good, so good.