Trapped
Where: Ad Gustum
When: Early morning
Fragments of the past few days fluttered before Kitty's eyes like dark dreams in a kaleidoscope, frightening and broken, too confusing to piece together. She knew she was tired and cold, dreadfully thirsty and somewhere unsafe. She just didn't know where. It seemed more like a nightmare than reality, and she let it continue in spurts until she was coherent enough to take in her surroundings. It was a little room, the walls bare and the floor made of concrete. There was a mattress and a blanket and a the clothes that Kitty had been wearing when she'd been kidnapped, which she quickly pulled on. There was a toilet in a bare little bathroom, a bottle of water, and a sandwich that was at least a day stale. Kitty ate it anyways, too hungry to care. It was cold, and she guessed from that alone that she was in a basement of some sort. The door, heavy and wooden, was locked tight.
The nightmares were real. The longer she waited to wake up, the more she came to realize she wasn't going to. The memories came flooding back, how she'd killed the boy in the park only to be taken captive by a vampire. He'd shot her, that fucker! If she ever saw him again, she'd scratch his eyes out! But before that, she'd have to be free of this place. At some point, someone would come to check on her, and there didn't appear to be any kind of special door through which to look in on her and deliver food. She was in a house, not a castle dungeon. She could easily shift into a crow then fly out the moment her captor opened the door.
Except she couldn't. With a scream of frustration, Kitty found herself unable to change form for the first time in her life. If there'd been more things to throw around the room, she would have thrown them. Instead, she kicked at the door, pounded with frustration, until she found it was hurting her more than helping. She screamed till her throat was sore, but no one answered if they heard her. Aware of magic as she was, she realized that it might not even be possible to hear her. Heavy breaths of frustration turned to quiet crying as she sunk down on the mattress. Someone would come down to her eventually. They had to. Maybe then she'd get some answers.