When Martha woke, the first thing she noticed was that she wasn't dead. Obviously, because she wouldn't be able to notice it if she were, but it came as a surprise anyway. Her head ached, pounding with each heartbeat, and she heard a distant ringing in her ears. Nausea hit her a moment later, and she rolled onto her stomach, eyes still closed - she didn't think light would much help her headache. If she just lay as still as possible, kept her eyes closed, maybe the nausea would subside soon. And then she could try and find out what happened, where she was...
She couldn't remember. What had happened before she found herself here, where she'd been... Well, Russia, but beyond that. She reached up slowly to touch the back of her head, where it hurt the most, and found her hair matted with blood, a shallow gash along the back of her head like she'd hit it on the edge of something. Possible concussion, she decided. Hard to diagnose yourself for a concussion, considering that if you were concussed, your brain tended not to work all that well, but all things considered...
There was something around her neck, heavy, cold metal. Martha's attention was drawn to it as it shifted, and somehow it's presence only served to make her even more nauseous. She opened her eyes, and realized with a start she was on a bed - a soft, warm, comfortable bed, which she hadn't had since the Master took over. And she didn't recognize the room she was in. No windows, a closed door, but definitely a bedroom of some sort. Fighting to ignore the pounding in her head, she reached up to touch the thing around her neck. She found a ring of metal there, and she ran her hand around the circumference of it, searching for some catch or hook to take it off... There was nothing, and it didn't give in the slightest when she tugged at it.
Her hand fell away from the metal ring as her heart started racing, the aching of her head only getting worse with her increased heart rate. Martha clenched her jaw, fighting back nausea, and slowly slid off the bed to start toward the door. Her legs wobbled a little - that knock on the head, however she'd got it, had clearly done a number on her - but she managed to stand. If she could just get to the door, find out where the hell she was...
The door opened before she could take more than a couple steps from the bed.
A nightmare stepped through, and smiled like the devil himself.
Re: C is for Collar
She couldn't remember. What had happened before she found herself here, where she'd been... Well, Russia, but beyond that. She reached up slowly to touch the back of her head, where it hurt the most, and found her hair matted with blood, a shallow gash along the back of her head like she'd hit it on the edge of something. Possible concussion, she decided. Hard to diagnose yourself for a concussion, considering that if you were concussed, your brain tended not to work all that well, but all things considered...
There was something around her neck, heavy, cold metal. Martha's attention was drawn to it as it shifted, and somehow it's presence only served to make her even more nauseous. She opened her eyes, and realized with a start she was on a bed - a soft, warm, comfortable bed, which she hadn't had since the Master took over. And she didn't recognize the room she was in. No windows, a closed door, but definitely a bedroom of some sort. Fighting to ignore the pounding in her head, she reached up to touch the thing around her neck. She found a ring of metal there, and she ran her hand around the circumference of it, searching for some catch or hook to take it off... There was nothing, and it didn't give in the slightest when she tugged at it.
Her hand fell away from the metal ring as her heart started racing, the aching of her head only getting worse with her increased heart rate. Martha clenched her jaw, fighting back nausea, and slowly slid off the bed to start toward the door. Her legs wobbled a little - that knock on the head, however she'd got it, had clearly done a number on her - but she managed to stand. If she could just get to the door, find out where the hell she was...
The door opened before she could take more than a couple steps from the bed.
A nightmare stepped through, and smiled like the devil himself.
"Hello, Martha Jones."