Morning came a lot later for her then it normally did, but this morning she wasn't greeted with the normal rays of sun peering through the shades or the twittering of birds outside the window. She wouldn't get up and get ready for work today, she wouldn't make a stop at Euphoria to get herself a smoothie only to rush to catch the train, and she wouldn't be listening to the eclectic mix of music on her iPod. No, today's morning would consist of waking up in a dreary location, still clothed in oversized sweat pants and a t-shirt, still feeling the sharp brunt of pain in her stomach. The room she was in was filled with strange and eerie devices, an ominous glow from the one light in the room flickering and buzzing as it did so. The chains and oddly designed torture devices hanging on the walls and sitting on the various tables. Chainsaws, knives, hacksaws, circular saws – every type of horrifying "tool" you would hate to see sitting in one place. It was all overwhelming to wake up to, her mind was still racing with the events of last night. Slowly she sat up, groaning and clutching her stomach as she did so but she was finally able to sit upright. She leaned back against the wall, her head tilting back against it and her eyes closing as she took a few deep breaths.

Eventually she was able to get to her feet, slowly shuffling her way. Her fingers very slowly extended to brush against the various tables around her before she stopped in front of what looked like a drawing board. On it were blueprints for all types of instruments of torture, designs she had no clue the human mind was able to devise. "I see you're finally awake." The voice behind her caused her to spin around quickly in order to focus on John standing behind her. In his hands were two cups of tea, one which he extended to her and for a number of minutes the cup remained extended until she very slowly reached out to take it. Apprehensive about drinking it, she simply held it in both hands as best she could "It's not poisoned if that's what you're thinking. You passed your test, there's no need to cause you any more harm. Now, there are some clothes in the bathroom over there that should fit you. Finish your tea and then get dressed. We have much to talk about." He turned around and exited the room behind a set of freezer flaps, leaving her standing there with the cup of tea and no more of an understanding of her situation then what she already had; in fact she was even more confused now.

After a great deal of apprehension, she finally raised the cup to her lips. The sensation of the warm tea sliding down her parched throat was very welcoming not to mention the way it took away the chill that was tearing through her spine. When she was done, she set the cup down on one of the tables and slowly made her way into the bathroom. The clothing lay neatly folded on the sink and she picked it up, she happened to glance in the mirror noting the horribly pale color of her skin – she looked as though she were the living dead. As she got dressed she noted the clothing fit perfectly, in fact it looked exactly like her pair of jeans and one of her shirts; she didn't want to know how he got them and if he knew where she lived, she just didn't. She folded up the sweat pants and t-shirt and exited the bathroom with them in her right hand, making her way back over to the bed and laying them down on it. By the time she turned around, she came face-to-face with John all over again. He didn't say anything, simply extended a hand to point in the direction in which he wished for her to follow. She found herself shaking uncontrollably, she felt cold, and John was clearly away of her shaking as well. With what could have been deemed a bit of a comforting smile, he reached over to the chair in front of the drawing board and removed the cloak from it. As he reached around her to drape it over her shoulders, she winced, curling into herself as if to protect herself from unnecessary harm but all that happened was simply feeling the weight of the cloak now resting on her shoulders. "For the final time Michelle, I'm not going to hurt you. Come with me."

"Right…cause you 'weren't going to hurt me' last night either that's why my fucking thumb in broken and I almost drowned in a god damn glass box not to mention the fuck—" He had placed a finger to her lips to get her to stop; she was shaking uncontrollably at the moment in her fit of rage. "I was testing your will to live, your desire to be alive regardless of the things that happened." He placed his hands on her shoulders, a bit a tight grip, squeezing ever so slightly "Do you appreciate your life? Do you understand?" Again the tears were threatening to break the surface and she attempted to look away, but with one finger under her chin he guided her back to looking at him and against everything she was trying to do, tears rolled down her cheeks. She seemed furious but unable to express it as he took a finger and wiped a drop away before grabbing her wrist and now guiding her through the flaps he walked through earlier. When she entered the room and was able to stop her emotional breakdown, she gazed upon two faces. One was in the corner of the room, tinkering away with what looked like a rather gruesome device while the other was sitting at a desk of sorts, quickly stopping her work to glance up at the "new face". Michelle automatically became leery of the girl eyeing her suspiciously, especially when she slowly stood up, walking around the desk to stand before them. "Amanda, this is Michelle. Mark…" The other person in the room turned around, his dark features rather disturbing and he quietly scrutinized the young girl standing next to John. With a very subtle nod of his head, he simply watched her leave the room behind John entirely as if studying her every move. Amanda stood where she had last been in front of John doing the exact same thing however more than likely they were both studying her for very different reasons.