"Oh, Max! You fucked up my shot!" The man named Mark Jefferson screamed as he gripped Max's face. Max simply moaned. She had regained enough consciousness to look at her surroundings.
"Oh God..." She thought to herself. "I'm back in the dark room." She looked for a photo, anything to help her escape, even for a few seconds. Nothing within her general vicinity. She looked up at Jefferson, mustering the energy to scowl. He chuckled slightly and stood up. He lazily slapped Max's face so that she slumped back to the floor. It may not have hurt that much, but she still spat out blood, staining the white sheet she was laying on. "My nose is bleeding again..." Max thought. "Yuck I can taste it. My head hurts." In her peripherals she watched as he walked over to a trolley with a syringe in his hand. Max moaned again, knowing what was coming.
"Perhaps you need another shot." Jefferson smirked. Max spat as far as she could, just barely getting blood and saliva on his shoes. Jefferson looked mad for a minute, but then smiled and wiped it off with a handkerchief. "My you are a fighter, aren't you?" He said, walking ever-so-slowly over to Max's live corpse. His footsteps quietly clicked on the hard linoleum. "Too bad I'm up to all of your little tricks." He tapped the syringe twice with a gloved finger. "So now there's nothing stopping us from taking photos, for the rest of your life." He stopped inches away from Max and crouched down. "Which, with any luck, won't be for very long." He smiled evilly and pushed Max's head down, exposing her neck. Max struggled. Her hands and feet were bound with duct tape. Tears streamed down her eyes.
"Maybe if I just imagine a photo..." Max thought. "Or anything..." The only thing swirling around in her mind was Chloe, and the horrific tornado set to destroy Arcadia Bay the very next day. At this rate, she won't be able to save either of them. She tried to hard to think about Chloe and only Chloe, hard enough to get a strong image in her brain. She felt a prick in her neck and realised it was over.
But the needle stopped. She looked up, and realised her former teacher, Mark Jefferson, had completely frozen. Mere seconds away from once again taken advantage of. Her vision was starting to blur. She could see faint white outlines familiar to ones she'd see before she time travelled in her peripherals. She was getting woozy, and she couldn't tell whether it was from the drug, or from her powers.
"Chloe... I'm coming Chloe..." She whispered, before collapsing on the ground, unconscious.
Max gasped as she awoke. She hit her head on a dresser HARD as she got up. She groaned and rubbed her head, wondering where the hell she was. She stood up and looked around. She instinctively ducked before her head hit the ceiling, which was a lot lower than she expected. "Where the hell am I?" She mumbled out loud. "I don't recognise this place from any of my photos. Is this like when I woke up in... my classroom?" She looked around. She could see a cot up against a wall. Boxes and various household items were strewn everywhere. "Ok. So I'm in an attic. It's small and cramped. Ok so which attic is this? It's not my parents house." Max felt her legs turn cold, and she started shivering. She looked down and realised she was wearing short shorts. "What the hell? Where are my jeans? I'm fucking freezing." She put her hand over her mouth after she spoke. "Why do I sound so different?" She suddenly became very scared. "Where the fuck am I?"
And then she saw it. Glistening, in the distance, reflecting the sunlight through the window behind it, leaving a lovely golden shimmer in its surroundings.
"Chloe's amulet."