before she wakes up, all wednesday can remember is a damp rag over her face, a sweet smell filtering into her nose - before blissful unconsciousness.

waking up, she finds herself not in bed, but tied and bound to a chair. her bleary eyes open to reveal a small room, golden sunlight flowing in through the small windows. looking around, there’s pictures and…

they’re of her.

hundreds of photos on the walls, all candid photos of her. some of them are old, some of them are from last week.

beyond the pictures, pieces of her missing clothing are found atop dressers and hung up on display…

she needs to get out of here.