Disclaimer: I do not own R&I or Amnesia: The Dark Descent.

Chapter One

My name is…Maura Dorothea Isles.

Her mind had never felt so clouded in her entire life. It took a great amount effort to remember her very own name. That was not good sign.

She slowly became aware of several things. First, the cool stones her body rested on and the indentations that had appeared on her skin as a result of that. It was difficult to estimate how long she had been laying there. Had it been an hour? Perhaps several? Surely it could not have been days. Reality set in. This was not a good situation. Tears stung her eyes and she felt like she was about to go vasovagal.

I live in Boston.

Remembering this caused her breathing to slow down a little, but the tears still flowed. She hated crying.

Second, she became aware of the rope that tightly bound her wrists together behind her back. Her fingers lightly brushed over it, analyzing it as best she could in what she could only assume was a drug induced haze. There was nothing special about the rope. It was thick with sharp bristles sticking out possibly due age or repeated rough use. It caused some pain, but nothing unbearable. Satisfied with this, she moved on to the knot. Her mind reeled with the possibilities. Maybe her captor had used a blood knot or a sheet bend. Rosendahl bends, also known as zeppelin bends were known for being simple to untie. Hope caused a flutter in her chest and she quickly pushed away the scientific explanation for it. The zeppelin bend was unlikely. It was very uncommon. Plus, why would her captor want to make it easy for her to escape? Unless he or she was a psychopath and wanted her to escape so she could participate in some sick game of cat and mouse; something Hoyt might have done. Nothing could be ruled out at the moment. All hypotheses would require further investigation before any conclusions could be made and that would have come later…after she escaped. She forced a small smile in an attempt to stay calm. Having a panic attack would halt her march of progress, so to speak.

She had not physically tied many different kinds of knots in her life. One summer, when she was eight years old, she found a book of them in her parents' library. Her request for a rope had been denied for some reason she had forgotten by now, so instead, she had taken to mentally tying them. This one that bound her hands, though…she had tied this before. Many times, in fact. In medical school and during her residency. She even used it now occasionally, whenever the urge to practice struck her. The knot was a surgeon's knot.

I am the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

After realizing no bones were broken and there weren't any other serious injuries (aside from a large tear in her new brand new Prada dress), she decided it was time to analyze her environment.

Her eyes had adjusted a bit to the darkness by now. The room was small. She estimated it to be seven feet by seven feet and the ceiling about that height, too. The stones that formed the floor and lined the walls had an uneven and rough surface. It felt like granite. Unfortunately, this new discovery didn't help much. Granite was by no means a rare stone. New Hampshire, the state above her own, was the known as the Granite State. "Geographical location: unknown," she whispered. It was the first time she had spoken since waking, and the words felt strange and foreign.

"Bare" was the word Maura picked to describe the room. It felt strangely appropriate for some reason she could not quite pinpoint. "Jane would have chosen 'empty,'" she sighed. Maura sat up suddenly. Jane. Jane Clementine Rizzoli. Where was she? Had they come…wherever they were…together? Had it been for a body? It was so hard to remember. She could remember her name, and her occupation, and her vast collection of useful (Jane would probably find "useless" a better choice) information. Her last clear memory was Sunday dinner in her guest house with the Rizzoli family. All memories after that seemed to have just…disappeared.

Waves of questions bounced around in Maura's brain.

One thing was certain: there was not enough information in this small room to answer her questions.

Maura grimaced slightly when she shifted the rope for better access to the knot. A . "Using a rope was probably a mistake," she said to herself. "Handcuffs or shackles might have been more effective in this particular situation." Sticky liquid that she was all too familiar with began to coat her wrists and creep into the crevices of her palms. "They're only superficial wounds. Vitamin K will cause the blood to clot," she assured herself. Who knew science could be so comforting? Her mind wandered back to a nutrition class she had been required to take back in college where she learned the different vitamins and what they do. "Vitamin K can be found in leafy green vegetables. An example is spinach." A strand became loose and she smiled softly at the small victory. The tears had also stopped and her parasympathetic nervous system seemed to be doing its job by returning her heartbeat and respiration back to a somewhat noormal level. Things were looking up…kind of.

"Vitamin E helps the body maintain normal cell production." Another strand came loose. "Whole grains are a natural source of this vitamin." And another. "Along with spinach." A faint noise she had not heard before stopped her from further contemplating the nutritional value of spinach.

It sounded like gears turning. Unable to identify the machinery without seeing it and not wanting to break out into hives, she pushed all guesses from her mind. One thing she did know: it sounded in need of a tune up. She stored the information away and made a mental note to think about it later.

"My main focus right now should be escape."

Suddenly, the last strands came loose and her hands were free.

Escape bondage: complete.

Her legs stiffened as she stood up. Under normal circumstances, she would have smoothed out any wrinkles or fix her hair. But these weren't normal circumstances and her bloody hands would do more harm than good. Plus, this wasn't really the time to be thinking about appearances, was it? Jane would be so disappointed. Maura could see her rolling her eyes right now.

The door was much less trying obstacle than the rope. Yes, it was firm, but the lock was so old. It only took five minutes, a small knife and several bobby pins before Maura heard that beautiful click.

"Stage two: complete," she smiled confidently. Jane would find her calling these tasks "stages" amusing, and Maura found that slightly comforting. She would leave the room, escape, call Jane and return home. End of adventure.

The door creaked unhappily and the smile fell from her face. She faced a large, circular room that could only be described as "creepy." The gas lanterns and torches, the only source of light in the room, lined the walls and illuminated a large, stone staircase to her left along with four other doors.

"I think I'll need to make some alterations to my original escape plan."

A/N: First time posting anything since, like, 2009. This feels wicked strange. Anyway, I'm not really sure if anybody knows/plays/likes Amnesia, but I was playing it and tah dah, this was born. For those of you who don't know: it's a survival horror computer game that takes place in a castle place in England in the 1800s. You play a guy who has no memories, hence the title.

This is kind of an experiment, so let me know what you think! It would be really helpful if you could leave a comment! Thanks!

One last thing, I ship Rizzles. I'm not really that great with the romance thing, so it probably won't be a main part of the story, but there will probably be…hints of it here and there, I suppose.