The slick white bracelet around her right wrist stared up at her like an unblinking eye.
HARLIN, ALEXANDRA Subject #4582UCO5
She mumbled a curse, slurred and thick with sleep. She had been awake for a quarter of an hour, yet still she felt groggy and inexplicably sore. She raised a slim hand, running her fingers through a tangled mess of hair, lingering for an instant at what felt like a wound at the base of her neck. The motion subtly tugged at the IV line in her left arm, drawing its narrow tube taut. Rae blinked, clearing the last of the bleariness from her eyes. She looked to the sides of the bed, searching for a call button that plainly was not there. A furrow crossed her brow.
"Hello?" Her head canted, green eyes sweeping over the room. It was an unfamiliar place, though it looked like something she might have designed for herself. Soft, earthy colors surrounded her, plush textiles and patterns offset with jewel tones that, anywhere else, might have made her feel at home. But the sense of wrongness persisted, and she felt increasingly ill at ease.
She felt weak, but not weak enough to do nothing. Gingerly Rae pulled the IV from her arm, pressing down on the gauze and medical tape that had held it in place. What little blood beaded up was caught by the adhesive, leaving her free to explore her surroundings. With no memory of what had brought her here and no-one to ask, she was left with little other choice.
She saw the camera first, and then, the box beneath it. As she had done since she was a child, she flipped the camera off as she walked toward it, a playful smirk tugging at one corner of her mouth. Both gestures drained more from her than she would have liked, but she pushed through, slowing her steps to conserve her energy as best she could.
"'Open me'," she read. "Well, if you insist…"
Inside were her clothes, neatly folded, her signet ring and necklace placed primly atop them. The furrow in her brow deepened. She rose, her clothing held against her paper-clad chest, and cast another look around the room. There were no answers to be found, nothing of use save a telephone and computer on a nearby desk. She crossed over to it, her steps slower still. She set her clothing on the corner of the desk. The monitor flickered to life with a touch of her hand to the mouse. What she read on its black screen sent a chill through her bones.
"Compliant?" Her dark brows rose. Her resting near-smile flagged, then fell. "Compliant? What the shit?" She read on, but nothing beyond the cryptic greeting served to enlighten or calm her. She sat down in the desk chair, her back a rigid line. She left her username as it was, hastily typing in a password change, then all but leapt at the prompt that appeared.
Very funny, she typed. Who's this?
Faint clicks sounded at the window and the door. Rae quickly turned to look, immediately regretting the movement. Again she swore, loud and vigorous enough to nearly make her feel better about her inability to move. She pressed her hand to the desk, fingers curled around its edge to steady herself. After what felt like an eternity, the black spots faded from the edges of her vision. She stood up, bracing herself with every step towards the door.