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In the beginning, there was light.

White, numb light.

It hurt Kitty Pryde's head.

In the beginning, there was a shudder, and a gasp for breath.

Air that tasted almost like-a dentists? No…it was warm and antiseptic, artificial lemon and facial clay mixed. An overwhelming, generally unpleasant taste.

The first thing Kitty remembers is Logan.

Logan. Oh God. She hears a soft groan, it's gravelly and pained. It's possibly hers.

Open your eyes.

She needs to her open her eyes. She-she can't remember, she needs to remember, and her head, oh, her head, it's wet and sticky.

Her hairs knotted and slicked back-by sweat? Blood? It smells like both.

Open your eyes.

Oh god, ahhh, fuck! She left Logan. Logan? Something happened to him-but she can't remember.

Open your eyes.

She doesn't want to open her eyes! They're heavy and numb, and the light is painful enough shining through her quivering eyelids. The mildly more awake part of her brain considers that the numb, surreal state she's currently in is probably better than reality. If her hairs coated with blood, she's obviously suffered some injuries. Is it drugs keeping her pain at bay? Drugs make sense; she can hardly move.

"Spare me the sob story Vincent, just tell me what the fuck you want me to do with her." A baritone, velvet over iron voice snarls. If Kitty didn't feel so stoned, she would have jumped.

Silence.

Kitty tries to move her fingers, 'Vincent' isn't talking. The growly voice suddenly makes a noise of contempt.

"Bullshit, Do you need her or not?"

Something clicks in Kitty's half conscious mind. He's talking to 'Vincent' over the phone. She tries to move her hand again and some of the feeling comes back to her fingertips. The voice chuckles darkly. "Yes sir. With pleasure." The phone clicks shut. Kitty registers her fingers brushing against clammy metal, like sweating stainless steel. It's not a pleasant sensation.

Open your eyes!

She opens her eyes.

"Ughnnn."

Much too bright, much too bright.

The room glows, it hums, it sweats. Some sort of fluorescent light panel is glaring down on her, her mouth dry. Light is bloody blinding, and she blinks furiously, trying to make out the shimmering silhouette by her, just beyond the bulb.

For one rather ridiculous moment, she wonders if she is dead. Well, she sure as hell doesn't feel like going into the fucking light. And the imposing shadow definitely ain't no angel, whoever or whatever it was.

Her eyes manage to focus a little, revealing a blurry face.

It's a man, that's for sure, but she can't focus on his features. Her eyes slip shut once more.

"I know you awake." The man states in an amused tone, "Your scents changed." Her what? This guy is obviously a fucking psycho, and he won't shut up; she wants to sleep.

Get outta there you idiot!

But- she's sooo…tired. She feels woozy and like she's been smothered in glue.

Phase!

Right. She should listen to her common sense; she needs to get out of her, away from the freaky man and the sweating room.

Suddenly, something is picking her up. Sensory overload, a lot of feelings are coming back to her now. There is rough bare skin against hers (her back is bare, she's concerned), and she feels sick from the sudden motion. Kitty lurches and her head come into contact with something hard. Oh. That creepy man must be carrying her. Strange, she didn't hear his footsteps. Kitty gasps in more putrid air and her eyes fly open to see-his chest. The younger mutant raises her head. The brute flashes her a grin, a f-fanged grin?

Holy shit.

She can see his face clearly now. He has short, brown, cropped hair and out-of-date lamb chops framing his rough face. Blue eyes, murky, reminding her sub-conscious of the sea. And- well the fangs. His lips pull back into a sneer, flaunting his canines for Kitty to gawk at. The smirk widens.

"Were gonna have some fun, aren't we darlin'?"