The woman raised her head at the sound of heavy boots thumping down the hallway. Her amber eye blinked, the sedatives in her system making her head feel woozy. The door slammed open and she watched quietly as four men in black uniforms walked in. They looked at her and talked amongst themselves in low voices before turning to her. She felt her heartbeat start racing as they walked over to her. The biggest man stood before her, holding a file in his hands. “Antoine Calkhen.” Antoine shook her head. “I don't remember.” The man snapped the file shut and motioned to the other three men. “Hey, what are you doing?” she gasped as they began lifting her, pulling IV's from her arms. She was placed into a wheelchair, her drugged body unable to fight back. Thick cloth restraints bound her arms to the chair and she found herself being swiftly wheeled from the room. After what seemed like forever of her being taken through the back of the clinic, she emerged in the darkness of the night outside. She shivered in the slight breeze. A black van was waiting inconspicuously in the back parking lot. Her arms were released as they pushed her to it, and she was hoisted into the back of the van. The entire three-quarters of the van was empty, save for a stretcher bed that was laid between two short benches, not unlike the interior of an ambulance. They placed her gently onto the bed. “Ow,” she said crossly as they reinserted IV's into her veins. Two of the men sat on either side of the bed, pulling the back doors shut. The other two climbed into the front and within minutes of its arrival, the black van disappeared from the parking lot into the night. Antoine opened her eye, surprised that she had succumbed to sleep once again. Ever since the sheriff had rescued her from that house, she felt she had done nothing but sleep. Then again, sleep was supposed to heal wounds. She looked around at her surroundings. She was encased in glaringly white walls and had been moved to a more permanent bed. Looking up she noticed a dome camera was situated directly above her head. Within seconds of her looking up, a door in the room opened, seeming to melt into existence from the white. “Antoine Calkhen?” the short woman said. Her voice was friendly if not a little bit hoarse. Her red hair went down to her shoulders and her big blue eyes were creased in a smile over a freckled face. “My name is Kira Giannoni.” Antoine shook her head in confusion. “I don't...” “It's okay,” the woman said with another blinding smile. “Disorientation is completely normal. Don't worry, you are completely safe here.” Antoine watched as the woman approached her and began checking her vitals. Kira finally was satisfied and stepped back. “Now that that's over with, I have someone who is dying to meet you.” Antoine felt a sudden sense of trepidation and nodded slowly. The door burst open again, this time much more boisterously. A slightly taller woman with brown hair strutted in with a giant grin across her face. Antoine shrunk back into the bed further. “Good, good Kira,” the newcomer said. “I'm Karina Smalley, and boy, I am super excited to meet you.”