They had taken her far from her home in the sewers that night; wrapped her up in a soft blanket and carried her far away. Her mother was never far off, glancing over the carapace her daughter had become. Those sunken-in eyes and that see-through skin didn't resemble the lively personality that had inhabited the girl she had named Ashenai.

All she wanted was her daughter back.

The soft blanket exchanged hands often. Confused and disoriented, Ashenai's remaining mind floated to the surrounding noise:

Beeping. Ticking. Tapping. Dripping. Breathing -

all things that were new to her existence. She would begin to follow a noise to its source with her mind, only to be restrained by a sudden strike of pain to her neck. Immediately, she would withdraw back into listening until her mind would once again wander toward the tentative step toward understanding. Just another endless cycle of a meaningless existence.

Occasionally, a hand would brush against something vaguely alive or a pill would be swallowed. Needles would be shoved into paper skin without reaction, lights shined into a white-veiled eye. No progress followed, the creature cast into the dark world of sound and touch. Generally unresponsive, a sign of life from the monster wrapped in sheets (the gentle stir of a hand or foot ) would be considered a hopeless medical breakthrough.

"Ashenai..."

The quiet mumbles were soon accompanied by sobbing, a voice from a faraway land coaxing a dulling mind farther toward its eternal rest. No emotion was aroused by midnight lullabies; no perceivable reaction from a soft touch. A single, veiled eye was locked in a catatonic state at the white ceiling, seeing nothing but a never-ending sea of black.