Chapter 1

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 This story is actually a spinoff of a rp that happened on RubyMewtwo's (a user on DeviantArt) blog for DittOffender between her and an anon. It's very graphic, so I'm not going to link it here, but if you really want to find it you can do that on your own.

Also, stating again that this story could be triggering to some, so read at your own risk.

Anyway, enjoy.

        Cold... So cold... Was the first thing Ren thought, which was quickly replaced by ...pain... She was surrounded by weird beeps and harsh chemical smells, and many thoughts were passing through her head, jumbling together until no sense could be made of them. She sluggishly opened her bleary eyes and when her sight adjusted she discovered that her arm was resting on the chilly metal of an armrest. Ren stared at her arm, not sure if it was her own, and as she moved it slightly to make sure it was real, she slowly became aware of the fact that she was laying on a hospital bed. Wha-? Wh-Where am I? How did I get here? Her thoughts were interrupted as the door to her room opened and a nurse wearing faded green scrubs walked in, her worn face staring down at a clipboard. The nurse looked up at Ren and when she noticed that Ren was awake she instantly turned around and walked out again. Ren stared at the door, eyebrows scrunching together and a slight frown on her face. She wanted to call the lady back, demand to know where she was, and ask some questions, but she couldn't seem to find her voice. Not that it would do much good... She's already gone.
        Ren then decided to occupy her time by looking around the small room from her hospital bed, trying to find some clue to where she was or how she got there.  Her eyes wandered across the faded wallpaper clad room, hungry for answers, the scratchy sheets tickling her skin as she shifted slightly. All that could be found was the bed she was laying on, an IV drip which was leaking some sort of liquid into to her arm, a partly open window with some white curtains slowly billowing, and a small table next to the bed. She glanced at the window again. The world outside was covered in a dark gloom and rain steadily pattered against the glass. She had to quit searching after a few minutes though, as turning her head so much was causing the world to spin. She then went back to staring at the plain bleach-white ceiling, thoughts making their way through her head like molasses, too thick and heavy to comprehend, doing nothing for her growing confusion. When the door opened again she turned to see a police officer shyly shuffling into the room, head down and shoulders slightly hunched.
        "Good morning, miss." The man said looking up at Ren, appearing to be in his twenties, his dusty brown hair looking messy and his outfit wrinkled and disheveled, like he had been working all night. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you a few questions." "W-Why?" Ren asked, instantly alarmed. "What happened to me?" "What happened," Gruffly said another police officer, coming to stand in the doorway, "Is that you just suddenly appeared on an airplane traveling from Florida to Texas mid flight, wearing absolutely nothing. You scared quite a few people, and that plane had to make an emergency landing. We questioned many of the people, and all they said that one minute there was an empty seat there and the next thing they know you're sitting in it. Those that were kind enough to stop staring alerted the flight attendants, then the pilot landed, and then we came and picked you up. You were unconscious through all of it. Funny thing is though, nobody remembers seeing anyone put you there. Absolutely no one. I think I'd remember someone dropping some naked chick on a seat on a crowded airplane, but nobody can seem to visualize it." Ren had been staring at the man in shock during his speech. What did he mean, showed up on an airplane mid flight? I don't even live in Florida!
        "We also ran some tests to see what had happened to you, and we found some sort of substance lingering in your system. We have no idea what it is, the guys in Forensics have never seen anything like it. We think it's some sort of drug." Ren's mind was slowly talking in all of the information, putting the pieces together until she came to a horrifying conclusion. "You were raped." The man said bluntly.
        "Bill!" The other officer exclaimed. "We were supposed to break it to her gently!" "What do you want me to do, George, sugarcoat it? That won't change anything. It won't changed the fact that we have little to no idea of what happened, we have huge panic on our hands, and it certainly won't change the fact that she was raped." While the two men argued, Ren laid there dazed. 'What happened to me? How did this happen? W-why...?' "E-excuse me, could you at least tell me where I am?" I... need to get home and figure this all out... "Sorry miss," said the brown haired one, George apparently. "You're in a hospital in Jackson, Mississippi. We have to ask you a few questions, but when we're done we'll get you on a plane for home whenever you're feeling better." He smiled at her, attempting to be soothing, but after all that Ren had been told the effect was anything but. "Alright then, come on." Said Bill. "Let's get this show on the road." As he walked out the door, Ren started to get up, but as she did so a dizzying pain in her lower region caused her to cry out and stumble. "Woah!" George caught her and sat her back on the bed. He looked at her and gently asked, "Does it hurt? I thought they put you on pain meds." "They did," said Bill, walking back into the room. "Damn this guy must've been a monster." George gave Bill a hard look, the turned back to Ren, and said, "I'll ask the nurses to up the dose." "O-okay..." Ren mumbles quietly, eyes downcast, and hot embarrassment on her face.

        "Okay," said George, talking out a notepad. "Let's get down to business. I'm going to have to ask you to tell me everything you know." They were in a new room, and it was a lot smaller than the previous. The walls were grey and there was no window. "Are we in a closet?" "Yes!" George exclaimed with a smile. "The hospital was kind enough to provide us with a place ask you questions so you wouldn't have to go to the station! Isn't that just so nic-" "You know what George?" Bill cut in, his gravely voice harsh, a no-nonsense look on his face. "Why don't 'I ask the questions? Otherwise we'll be here all day listening to you go on about poodles or your grandma's cooking or some shit like that." "Oh... yes, of course." George mumbled quietly as he got up from the chair in front of Ren. "Alright, Cupcake. Let's start this off easy. Where do you live?" Ren looked at Bill with a slight frown on her face, a bit annoyed. "Where do I live? What kind of question is that?!" "Just answer the question." "I-I live in New York, outside the city." "Good. Where were you on the day of April twenty six?" "I... don't remember." And she couldn't. Ren's mind was completely blank. The last thing she remembered was going to a movie with her friend, Kale. That was the twenty fifth. Could that've been when... "Alright, so you don't know. We investigated your home for signs of a kidnapping, were you aware that there were several decaying corpses displayed throughout your living room?" "I... What?! No!" Ren was horrified. Dead people in my house?! "Yeah, some bastard thought they'd make some lovely furniture. We checked them, and none of them had any of your finger prints on them. So you're probably cleared for murder." Ren made no comment to this, but she was looking slightly sick. "We also thought you should be aware that you have been unconscious for five days." "F-five days...?!" "Yeah, whoever this guy is, they must have had one hell of a time fuckin-" BILL!" George yelled angrily. To this Bill had the decency to look a bit sheepish, then cleared his throat and continued. "Well.. Anyways." "Bill I think I should take over the questions from here." George said tensely, still angry from his co-worker's lack of modesty. "Nah, it's okay. You just keep scribbling in your diary, I've got this." He looked back over to Ren, who was looking more nauseous by the minute. "What can you tell us? Anything?" "N-no... I don't remember anything..." Bill looked over to George. "Make a note, victim could be suffering from amnesia, almost certainly caused by traumatic events." "What about the rest of the people?" George interrupted, and idea clearly on his mind. They can't remember anything either. The guy who did this must have gotten some sort of chemical onto the plane. This could be some sort of operation, one guy gets the girl, one guy makes sure no one knows a thing, and the other is the getaway. There could be some huge amount of human trafficking going on here-" "George, save your crazy theories for later. Now then," Bill stared at Ren intensely. "You can't tell me anything? You can't even tell me what sex, race, or height they were? Try and recreate what happened that day in your mind." Ren tried to concentrate, but her head was spinning too much. "N-no-" "Would it help if I showed you some pictures of people suspected?" Bill sounded desperate, staring at Ren like he tried hard enough, he could will her to remember something. "No... I don't think so." Bill's face crumpled and he sighed loudly and ran his hands through his dirty blond hair. "Fine. One more thing. How do you feel? Nauseous, sick at all?" The spinning was getting worse and the air was starting to feel heavy around Ren. "Y-yeah... I feel kinda sick...!" Ren suddenly went white and emptied the contents of her stomach onto the table in front of her. A soft 'Ew' was heard from George as Bill got up from his seat and went to Ren. He softly patted her back until she was done, and said to George, "Get her back to the room, she needs to rest. It was stupid to try and get information out of her so soon. We'll finish this later." He watched as George helped Ren from her seat and into the wheelchair they had brought her into the makeshift interrogation room with. They were all was silent as George wheeled Ren back to her hospital room, the mood heavy.
        When they got to the room, Ren looked at Bill, her eyes dull and the corners of her mouth pulling into a frown. "Do... Do you think you'll ever find the guy... The one who did this...?" "I don't know..." He replied, a deep frown on his face. He was replacing the bag of liquid hooked to Ren's IV with another bag. "Chances are, no. We won't. But you don't need to worry about that," he said, coming to the side of Ren's bed, leaning closer and lowering his voice. "Right now what you need to do is rest." As he was saying this, Ren started to feel very dizzy, the room was starting to spin and the air felt heavy. "N-no... I need to find out who did this... I d-don't want... to rest..." "Sleep." Bill insisted, as the room finally went black, Bill's blond scruff-covered face being the last thing she saw.

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