Beau wrenched herself awake and out from the dark tendrils of sleep. Her eyes slammed open to the glaring twilight. Her arms flew out to ward off the cloying shadows. Her chest heaved in shallow pants and her fingers curled around the empty air. Her eyes took long to adjust to the darkness that shone bright in the room.
There was bile on her tongue, mixed with the metallic tint of iron. She reached her cold, shaking fingers to her lip. They came away wet. Her eyes saw the contrast of the dark blood on her pale fingertips. She glanced up at her surroundings.
Nothing looked familiar.
Where was she?
She took a deep breath, but her tight chest protested, only allowing one tiny puff of air at a time through its constricted channels. It left her dizzy, as the four walls continued to crush in
