Chris: "This is a good likeness, though I think you got the cheeks a little too bony."

The painfully familiar voice startled her awake. Her pulse quickened, but she did not move or open her eyes. She listened intently. She heard nothing, yet still felt she was not alone. She took a quiet, deep breath and silently told herself that the voice was in her dream; that the room was empty.

Chris: "Open your eyes, Love, I know you're awake."

Mary opened her eyes slowly, as if drawing out the motion would buy her enough time to come up with a plan of attack. As the room came into focus, she found herself staring into the eyes of her kidnapper. Consciousness set in slowly, and she began to wonder if she had ever escaped at all.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Chris set down the drawing she'd done of him and held a single finger to her lips.

Chris: "Quiet, now. It would be a bloody shame if your roommate were to check up on you and found herself on the losing end of a fight."
Mary: "Emily can hold her own."

Mary's voice was defiant- anything to keep him talking. Threatening was better than biting. She stole a glance at both the window and the door. The door was closed; the window open. Then she noticed that Chris had been going through her dresser drawers - their contents were now laid out on top of the dresser in neat piles. How long had he been here?

Chris: "Can she? From what I heard, she failed anatomy class. But if you'd like to place a bet, I'd be happy to spin the wheel."

He grabbed ahold of the comforter, tearing it away from Mary's body. Mary jerked back reflexively and tumbled off the other side of the bed.