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Message: <blockquote data-quote="izillama" data-source="post: 4532793" data-attributes="member: 79171">At the sound of the voices, Clover slowly came to her senses. She lay on the cold floor, her nose pressed flat to the damp, dank floor. It smelled like some sort of basement, and she could only imagine the mildew these walls held for her. At first, her senses felt clouded. And there was little more she could do but stammer internally, 'What in the...? What the hell is going on?' Slowly, she managed to open her eyes and lift her head.It was bright.A single flame lit a group of a few people and, as she sat up groggily, she looked around the ring of people in front of her and tried to gauge them. They were an odd mix of two men, a woman, and a female child who looked as raggedy as she felt. The woman held a match and was slowly inspecting Clover as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. How long had she been out? What had transpired since her trance had broken?Again looking around the circle, she suddenly noticed that the second man had been the one dressed like a preacher who had saved her at the club and led her into the alleyway. Then all had gone dark. 'What did he do to me? Did he knock me out somehow? No. There was someone behind me just then. And this man was just as confused as I was. But he looks terrible now. What happened to him? He looks like he went through some sort of war. Or at least a nasty bar fight.'To her right, she heard a whimper erupt from the little girl. She looked about as frightened as Clover felt. Feebly, she sat flat against the wall hugging her legs to her chest and slowly rocking back and forth, as though crazed. The child was in a nightgown, as though she had been torn from her safe, warm bed. Every so often, she would sniffle, and the woman in the group would shush her. The woman didn't seem to be the girl's mother, though. It merely seemed as though the five of them had been thrown together by force, and possibly for some evil purpose. 'We are most definitely underground. Judging by the temperature, we're far further underground than a simple basement, too. It seems like a basement. I can hear voices from above. But no. It feels more like a tomb. Will we die here? Underground and far from the eyes of authority? Will anyone come looking for us? Will anyone ever find us... either alive or dead?'Clover found it a cruel irony that she had begun the evening looking to end her own life. And now, faced with just that, she felt a sudden desire to live. Or to at least be able to take her fate into her own hands.Finally, after assessing the information, she decided it was time to talk. She turned to the young man who was dressed like a preacher, feeling that she was the only one who still seemed rather calm in the face of possible death and entombment, "What happened to us? Do you know where we are?"His eyes stared at her and she read him like a book: he was sorry that they had ever met and wished that she wasn't there with him.She wished the same.Suddenly, she winced and realized that her arm stung a bit as she moved. It was slightly red and puffy, as though she had received an injection. A wave of horror washed over her as she realized that something was terribly wrong. Panicking, she reverted back to her first instinct: to demand an answer, "What the devil is going on!?"</blockquote>

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