The steady drip of a leaking faucet woke the sole occupant of a makeshift cell in the basement of the town hospital. Rather, it was the morgue. Ashton’s eyes cracked open and she growled in annoyance. She tugged on her restraints for a moment then sighed. Between her injuries and the drugs given to her, she was unable to free herself.

She tried to go back to sleep. If she rested, she might regain enough strength to break free. Once she managed to get loose there would be hell to pay!

Her head fell sideways, and she took in the sight of corpse white toes. There was a tag on that toe, though the name was on the opposite side. It was not the only corpse in the room. Dozens of people had been taken down to her cell, before the so-called emergency militia decided that there were too many of them stored in the room. All of the morgue lockers were full on top of the dead practically piled in the room.

The beatdown that she received just before Shara arrived had forced her to require medical attention. In her state she was unable to maintain her illusion, so the rescue workers knew her to be outside of the human norm.

They had kept her sedated most of the time, but she occasionally awoke long enough to hear snippets of conversations. Several of the militia leaders believed her to be a monster, or in league with the people who ruined the world.

Drip. Drip. The slow steady drip continued to be the only sound in the room save for the noises that she made. Those drops of water sounded like thunder in her ears.

“Thirty-three hours,” she whispered. She had to hold out for thirty-three hours in order for her wounds to heal to the extent that she could regenerate her life force.

Currently, Ashton was stuck on a boat in the dream world. It drew closer to land every day. In the meantime, it was impossible to replenish her depleted stock of health restoratives. She several of them to heal after her fight with Sonja. The remainder were spent when she went to the dream world not long ago. Various message windows claimed that her injuries would travel between worlds back when she changed her race, but that exchange was not one hundred percent. Thusly any injuries healed in the other world would only partially impact the waking world. On the same note, injuries taken or healed in the waking world did not fully impact the dream.

It was a confusing situation, in all honesty. At times, it proved difficult to guess just how a wound in one world would appear in the other. In the current instance, she was banged up a bit in the dream world but mobile. She was able to take her restoratives and heal a lot of the damage there. That health restoration traveled with her to the waking world, but at a reduced rate. Thus, she still had to wait while her body healed naturally. The cold air in the morgue was not helping, though if she were to sleep more than might help.

The problem with sleeping, of course, was that she would be vulnerable in the waking world. At the moment she could not do much, but she could at least see a threat when it appeared.

A few hours later, she had fallen asleep again only to be awakened by the morgue door opening. A woman in a lab coat walked into the room. She checked the corpses then wrote something on her clip board.

Eventually, she reached Ashton then studied her with a clinical gaze. “Still no sign of your level. How do you hide it, monster?”

“I’m not a monster you hateful bitch,” said Ashton. Any desire to play nice died the last time she begged this woman to release her.

“Subject appears aggressive. It is possible that her monster traits are showing,” she said while she scribbled on her clipboard.

Ashton glared at her through her one good eye. The other was still swollen and it hurt to open it more than necessary. “Is this fun for you? Kidnapping people and keeping them in the morgue?”

“Your kind have caused a lot of trouble. You’ve hurt a lot of people,” said the doctor. “Besides it’s not kidnapping when you aren’t alive in the first place.”

“Do you even hear the words that are coming out of your mouth?” asked Ashton.

“I could give you back to the militia?” asked the doctor. “They wanted to execute you to see what loot you would drop.”

Ashton began to speak an unkind string of words, but a familiar ringtone began to play in the pocket of the doctor’s lab coat. “That ring tone…. You bitch!”

The doctor pulled Ashton’s phone from her pocket then looked at the information for the one who was calling. “Interesting. That contact list was not just for show.”

“Why do you have my phone?” asked Ashton with a threatening growl.

“It is remarkable. Truly,” said the doctor. “You things are quite adept at mimicry. Many people would be fooled.”

“Answer me!” snapped Ashton.

“I wonder if I should answer?” asked the doctor. “Perhaps another monster would spawn if I did?”

She did not wait for Ashton to answer. Instead, she tapped the accept icon and spoke. “Hello?”

A familiar voice began to speak rapidly over the phone. Ashton’s ears immediately perked up. However, her sudden change in expression did not go unnoticed by the doctor.

“Yes. We have Ashton here at the hospital,” said the doctor. “By all means; do come here.”

“No. She is in no position to speak at the moment,” said the doctor.

“Scott! The militia’s holding me prisoner!” shouted Ashton.

The room went silent for a moment. Other than the steady drip, nothing made any noise for a brief few seconds.

Scott’s voice came across the phone in a clear, cold, tone, “I’m on my way.”

“Excellent!” said the doctor as the line went dead. “I’ll prep a table.”

Ashton’s eyes widened slightly then she barked out a laugh that made her look partially deranged. “You’ll need more than one after Scott gets here.”

“The specimen is that large?” The doctor noted it on her clipboard. “I supposed I should alert the militia. They will need to be prepared for this creature’s arrival.”

Ashton closed her eyes and laughed weakly. Most of her gathered strength had been expended in her recent outbursts. “I know everyone is scared, but you and the militia are showing horror movie levels of stupidity.”

The doctor tilted her head to the side then jotted something down on her clipboard. Apparently, the monsters were aware of their popular media. It was quite fascinating, really.