I am a dirty, filthy mess. I hadn't been allowed time to shower since I arrived since it wasn't needed, my tears cleared out any infections that the grime might bring. As always, I am freezing cold..but not enough to finish me. Legs curled up in front of me, my back to the metal wall, I huddled as close to myself as I could to try and bring a spark of warmth. My hair had grown since I came, a side effect from so many tears, a side effect I hadn't ever heard of. So much rapid reproduction and regrowth turned the once manageable mop into a chaos of knots and stringy, oily strands.

Half of my face was bandaged, so bandaged that I couldn't remove the wrappings no matter how hard I tried. Far was a sick bastard, he knew what I could do now with that eye, had made sure I couldn't use it unless he wanted me to. I couldn't see what else was bandaged beneath the dirty gown they had changed me into when I first arrived. Honestly, I was...afraid to look. I knew that the 'mirror' on the wall is a window and I knew they were watching. I pretend not to care, I am sane enough to be able to pretend.

In fact, pretending is much better. I used a trick that I had learned many lives ago, many centuries before now. I simply...wasn't here. I was back home, in my hole, with Aiden and the kids. Safe and warm and had real food...they fed me from I.V's here. It keeps me alive...to know that they're all safe and sound. Because of me. Because I refused to open the connection and show Aiden where I was, I had seen enough visions of torture...been through enough...to know that I would never subject him to this. Without knowing it, I rock back and forth in my spot, comforting myself the only ways I knew how.

My imaginings are ruined as the door is pressed open and Far sweeps into the room, his eyes instantly catching mine and I feel the familiar fog taking over me. I hate this! If he controlled me by any other means, I could fight back but this...this total lack of something to fight other than the fog in my mind, made me furious. As if pulled along by a puppeteer, I stood woodenly and walked to stand in front of the man. My mouth opens, but I am not allowed to speak. Far speaks instead.

“My dear, you look a mess. This simply won't do. An old friend is dropping in today and you must look your best, he's your friend after all!” His eyes are alit with a strange light, one I recognize as something to run from. The smile on his face curls into a more sickening one, making his eyes dance in mischief. “Go bathe and get dolled up, little one. We have only hours before he arrives!”

One of the nurses, Far calls them Durri, march forward and take my elbow in hand, steering me to a large bathroom. In my mind, I'm screaming. Who is he talking about? Who's coming? Why's he so happy about it? The fog presses down on me, staunching my ability to think clearly, to understand and to reason. I wash, I dry, I clean and I let the Durri help me, all without any fuss. My hair is brushed and curled, my face is un-bandaged and dusted with make-up before I'm led to a large closet...to pick out my clothing. Of course, not much thinking can be done so I choose a long gown, scarlet in color, with a corset style top and a flowing bottom. Black slippers are placed on my feet as I struggle with putting on the display...then I glance in the mirror.

I don't know who stares back at me, but it isn't me. Some things are the same...one of my eyes are the same dark blue, my hair is red and my face is the same shape. Same nose and same lips...same neck and ears. But there's so many things that aren't me. My skin is paler, a sickly white, my stomach is smaller, having lost a bit of weight from being switched from real food to liquid, not to mention the sheer amount of scars. My left eye has been left uncovered, the dull gold eye blankly looking into the mirror, the black slit, reptile-like in appearance, is unfocused and a bit larger than it should be. From the corner of that eye and down my neck, disappearing where a bandage is wrapped around my neck, collarbone and heart...are third degree burns. The burns are shaped in odd scale patterns, sweeping back to my hairline and down. I know it goes further down, the whole bandage hiding how big it really is. The dress is strapless, showing the bandages and making it easier to get dressed and undressed.

My forearms are both covered with the same bandaging, for the same reason. I know my calves are as well, but I don't check...it doesn't matter. The joints of my shoulders, elbows...every moveable part in both my arms are scarred heavily, movement isn't as easy as it once was...it's hard to get used to even walking since my legs are the same way. My hair is twisted into a half up, half down waterfall. Long enough now to reach the top of the dress and cover the scar that trails up my spine. The curls are pinned up in places to make my neck look longer and seemingly more elegant...to me it looks like I have more bandages there than I thought.

I look like a dolled up monster now. The thought is amusing for all of two seconds until the fog covers me again and nothing really, truly matters. The Durri seems pleased with my appearance and begins to drag me out of the room and down the hallway, literally pushing me into a large room and leaving again. Scoffing, I straighten myself up and glance around the area.

The walls are a deep blue, detailed with snowflakes and silver slashes of snow. The floor is hardwood, a deep chocolate cherry stain to accent the walls and the large table to one side of the room. Large windows with white curtains peer out into the world, over looking a sea of some sort, on further notice, a cliff rests beneath it. A bed lays off to the side of the room, a canopy of gauze encircles the structure in soft waves. Silver candelabras light the room in a...romantic glow. Sighing, I remove myself from my frozen position and sit at the table, confused but oddly accepting. Just waiting.