InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "my fandom loves streetlamps!"

Drina was conscious before she actually realized that she was awake. Instead of being caught in a place of thoughtless darkness, she was acutely aware of an ache in her muscles and the feeling of dizzyness, even though she was lying down. She couldn't remember exactly what had happened before, but she certainly remembered the men dressed in black masks. She moved her fingertips, one at a time, and then each of her toes to make sure she had suffered no injuries to her limbs or spine. Her neck turned to the right and then to the left and once she was satisfied that she still had the ability to move, her eyes opened.

Bright sunlight filtered in through a nearby window, illuminating a white room with red trim. The ceiling had a strange texture to it, and in the middle, a ceiling fan was silently rotating. This was not her home. This was not where she was supposed to be. She bolted upright in bed, a little too quickly, she learned as a wave of slight nausea hit her. When she swallowed, all she could taste was copper, and it was disgusting. Her eyes left the walls for a brief moment to travel down to her bulging stomach. Her hands caressed the flesh only for a second, before she was assured enough to stand up.



The room she was standing in looked nothing like her bedroom at home. It was smaller and there was a bright red wardrobe in one corner and a black desk on the opposite wall. Before she continued her exploration, her attention was directed toward a netbook sitting open on top of the desk. It flashed and there was a message waiting to be read. A message from someone calling themselves "The Commissioner."

The little hairs on Drina's arms rose as she felt the anxiety creep up through her body. The only hint to her location was that she was on an island. She closed the browser and immediately tried to pull up an email account, a networking site, anything that would contact her with husband or family. Nothing worked. All that she was able to find was her ability to post things on the netbook. Like a networked blog, or something. Her experience and history as a police officer kept her fear on a dull burn rather than a roaring flame. She walked over toward the wardrobe, where she found several of her favorite outfits; the nearest one was a khaki sundress. She lifted it out of the wardrobe along with a pair of flat sneakers and dressed herself before exploring the rest of the residence.

Drina noticed several artifacts from her home, including the baby blanket her mother had sent to her just a week ago. She felt her heart skip a beat when she saw a large portrait of her and Heath standing together. Without another thought or word, Drina was out the door, looking for answers.