"You're such a joy to be around."-
"Well, you're a pain in the arse."
Jordyn had no idea that befriending the lovely idiot who broke her locker would turn her life upside down. But here she was, amidst bionics, secrets and life-threatening dangers...
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TW: mentions of blood, nausea/vomit
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Darkness. Throbbing pain. Overwhelming nausea.
Jordyn jerked awake from a bad dream. Or that's what she thought – hoped. The pounding of her head revealed the opposite. It was surely going to burst any second now. Black dots obstructed her view. She struggled with her heavy lids, threatening to block her vision further.
Jordyn was unable to see but could feel the stinging chill pressing against her cheek. She lifted her head, the chill diminishing and the blur finally replaced by a clear view.
However, the image in front of her caught her off guard. She was level with the legs of the couch and coffee table in the mentor's living space. What was she doing lying on the floor? It wouldn't have been the first time she fell asleep on the floor, but she always recalled how she got there.
The throbbing of her head intensified as she strained to think of her last intact memory. She had been with S-82 and then... What happened then?
Chase's face flashed before her inner eye. An urgent instinct surged through her, compelling her to spring up and alert everyone. Her body responded automatically, eager to push off the floor and rise, but an unexpected hindrance held her back, rendering her efforts futile.
She was met with a sting to her wrists and her chin bouncing off the floor tiles. As if her headache alone wasn't enough, a sharp jolt reverberated through her jaw and magnified her discomfort. In addition, a mixture of surprise and anguish became stuck in her throat and she nearly choked on the burning sensations piercing her wrists as a result of her abrupt action.
As she flung her head back, a horrifying scene unfolded before her eyes – zip ties tightly constricting her limbs, preventing any movement without inflicting painful friction against her skin. Someone had tied her with sinister intentions – the tiniest shift dug the zip ties deeper into her flesh.
Her skin was burning red in color – it must have started before she even awoke. Any excessive movement threatened to amplify the crimson shade, hinting at a bloody outcome.
A surge of nausea washed over her yet she mustered some strength to gulp the bile down. The prospect of lying amidst her own vomit was the last thing she needed in her less-than-ideal circumstances.
With her memory refreshed, Joe couldn't keep the insults down. "Sebastian, you sleekit bass! Once I free myself it won't be my blood on these hands, pendejo!" The cursing kept going and going – until the danger of the situation finally registered in her mind. Because if she was lying here, for god knows how long, and her friends haven't come to her rescue yet, something must be struggling too.
And she had to help.
In an attempt to get up without the aid of her hands or feet, she resorted to shuffling on the floor. She gave up on this strategy after 2 minutes. The only thing rising was her skirt, which she had no means to pull down if she came to expose too much.
