The key

Chapter 1

Tw: mention of drugs

She wakes, dazed and confused.
Attempting to stand her legs give out, she collapses into the sticky, wet mud.

Angela groans at the weight of the fall before trying again, slower this time. She succeeds, wiping her hands on her ruined jeans.
Stumbling forward, her brain tries to make sense of her foreign surroundings.

She follows the mud path, stopping now and again because of her wobbly legs. Her battered trainers become engulfed by the mud.

Up ahead, her unfocused eyes faintly make out the outline of a flock of sheep.
She blinks rapidly, making sure what she sees is real.
It is.

She runs before crashing down, her body not yet strong enough after the ketamine.
Laying down, confused and tired, she closes her chocolate eyes, praying to whatever God/ Goddess would listen that this was some cruel nightmare.

Her eyes open once more, her face still getting blown on by the cool breeze.
She lays there some more, using the mud as a pillow, trying to grasp at how she got here.
The itching of her brain persists but no memory comes forward.

Groggily pushing herself up, Angela walks slowly, eying suspiciously around her.
Eventually, her feet lead her to grazing sheep, their white wool clouds against the background of the clear sky.

Among the flock, she notices something glisten in the warm spring sun, as she walks forward she sees it's a rusty key, sprinkled with patches of time.
She stalks closer, like a lion waiting for the right moment to pounce on it's prey.
Upon closer inspection, she notices a cloud engraved on it's side.
She reaches out a slender finger to grab it, but the key vanishes. She blinks. Once. Twice. Hoping that her blood shot eyes are tricking her.
Alas they are not, the same patch that the key was laying on is deserted. A faint indent of where the key once lay.

Rumble.

The ground shakes, before a hole big enough for a person to fall through appears.
Right. Under. Her...
She shrieks as she tumbles, darkness swallowing her...