Horrified, she held her breath, pulling crazy-painful needles out of fingers one by one - unsure how long has been spent here - alone - in this windowless, underground hovel. Some crunchy, inedible taste in her throat was making her choke... dirt, she recognized, as if observing as an outsider. Half-sitting, her brain noted the implication of having been shoved face-first into the earth for a time, of needles in her fingers, of strange holes that do not lead to Wonderland...
Someone had tortured her. Would probably kill her. Enjoyed it, apparently.
Fabulous. Just fucking fabulous.
Cognizant of the fact that sarcasm offered no protection here, she gingerly brushed the dirt off her hands and attempted to stand up to better survey her surroundings.
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