Today the recording told her how to escape the first monster. The dark haired woman didn't particularly know why, but she did know that it wasn't normal. The twisting feeling in her gut told her than much. The feeling that something was…wrong. But she did as it told her, who was she to go against what the recording said. She pulled the lever straight off, not even bothering to explore the rooms.

"No, please!" The man begged the first time she pulled the lever.

She pulled it again and he began to cry. The dark haired woman's fingers were now moist with sweat. The recording had said that three pulls would do it, but now she knew what 'it' was. She had to kill this man to escape? The woman held her breath and tugged on the lever one last time, then covered her ears with her hands and ran for the ladder descending from the ceiling.

As she climbed, the regret filled woman took a last look at the cell where the man lay. She could see the form wriggling, a long pole protruding from its gut. She couldn't bear to think of the form as a 'he', as a person.

The pretty young woman ran pell-mell through the maze, fleeing the angry sounding growls that emanated from behind her. She jumped from a hole and plummeted. A cry escaped her lips as she grasped her ankle. She'd twisted it in the fall. Shaking fingers explored her bag, finding the bottle she was looking for. It was gone in a long drink, and the pain dissipated. She was feeling much calmer now too.

Killing the second man was easier. He'd told her that she was going to burn, which made her angry. With her pink flushed features screwed up with concentration and fury, she tugged the lever once, twice, a third time, listening to his wails as he was torn limb from limb. Then she ran her hands across the front of her red dress to dry them.

Upon passing through the secret doorway, behind a bookcase, the woman spotted another form trudging through the misty dark. Its groans were deep and angry sounding, and each clattering step was forceful. She backed into a corner, peering around it at the creature. It was bulky, and it had something around its neck that sparked a inkling of remembrance in the woman's mind.

"Yes, keep making those sounds." A deep voice floated to her ears.

The hazel eyed woman froze, and a small fear induced sound escaped her. She clapped her hand over her mouth, and the beast's body jerked in her direction.

"I have you now." The voice growled.

The woman bolted, her dress tangling around her legs. She could hear the chains wrapped around the monster's legs jangling with every step, rattling almost faster than her heart. Then she tripped over a rock.

A scream tore from her lips as she fell, landing face first onto the ground, but the pain was numbed slightly with the lingering effects of her laudanum. Which left plenty of room in her mind for fear. She tried to push herself up, but a hand caught the back of her dress and hauled her up.

A tall, broad man with a shock of reddish hair and beetle black eyes stared at her, venom dripping from his countenance. He laughed a sharp, short bark of triumph.

"You won't get away this time." He growled, but there was a certain softness to his words.

"No, please." The brown haired woman wailed, struggling.

Her words seemed to startle the man slightly. His brow furrowed and he tilted his head slightly to one side.

"Justine?" He asked, half spat.

"I guess, I don't know; just let me go, please." The woman, Justine pleaded, fear scrawled across her features.

"You bitch, trying to pretend your way out, aren't you?" The man's face hardened again as she shook the woman like ragdoll.

"No, really. I don't even know who you are." She wailed, her voice starting to pitch. "I just woke up here."

The face lost all semblance of anger. "You…don't know me?" He asked.

"No,"

Justine was lowered slowly to the floor, and she wobbled slightly upon trying to find her balance again. The red-head, who was a head taller than her, looked down at her; a broken looked crossing his eyes.

"I'm Basile."

"Basile." Justine chewed on the name quietly for a moment.

A horrific memory blossomed in her mind, forcing the air out of her lungs. She remembered forcing a hot poker into his eye sockets, blinding him. And she remembered other things too, taking walks with the man out in an unfamiliar garden, the ardor on his face when he looked at her.

"Oh, Basile, I'm sorry!" She cried out, falling against his chest.

The muscled man looked utterly surprised as his arms wrapped around her. He obviously hadn't expected such a reaction from the pretty young woman. She looked up at him, tears in her hazel eyes, and reached up, her hand brushing across his bearded face.

"I did horrible things to you." She said. He nodded in agreement.

They stood, embracing, for a few moments, and the man's head bowed, pressing into her gently curled hair. After a few moments, Justine began to pull away, remembering the point of her presence in this unfamiliar place.

"I must—" She began to speak, but she was too late.

Basile wailed as his body stretched, his clothing shedding from his body and angry red gashes blooming on his skin. A wheel sprung around his throat, and chains snaked their way around his body. Hazel eyes squinched open for a moment to see the eyeless sockets of his face and the blood dripping from them as if they were fresh wounds.

She only made three paces before his hand collided with the side of her head.

"You thought you'd get away, didn't you?"