Rayne squinted her eyes once she opened them, a blur of whiteness filled them and she blinked hard. It wasn't very bright but it was brighter than her dreams; nightmares really.  As she blinked, she could make out dark shapes; people she guessed. She brought her heavy arm up to rest her hand on her forehead above her eyes, shielding them from the brightness that made them water. She rocked back and forth slowly on the balls of her feet, not making too much effort to catch her balance just yet. Everything was so blurry. What had happened?<br/><br/>The old floor boards creaked in protest to her movements and she coughed as she inhaled the pollution in the air; the smell of mold, dust and mildew entered her nostrils with each inhale. â€˜Oh gross! That can't be good for my health!â€™ She covered her mouth with her other hand, her movements still slow and lazy. She wobbled a little as she caught her balance.<br/><br/>The blurriness had finally lifted and her vision focused again. Looking around the musty room she noticed several other disoriented people trying to get their balance. When the question of where they were rose to her lips, she caught herself and realized that they probably didn't know any more than she did. She wiggled her fingers and toes from their tingly sleep and rubbed her watery eyes once more.<br/><br/>She sighed looking up to the cobweb-thick ceiling. â€œGod, this place is ancient! The hell are we? What the fuck happened?!â€ Her mind spun, looking for answers in her muddled brain. That was the problem with her mind. When things happened, it demanded answers.<br/><br/>"The door has been opened."<br/><br/>She whipped her head around to find the source of the voice, a quiet and raspy "What?" slipping passed her chapped lips. Her eyes caught a portrait carved crudely into the wall; she squinted to see the words:  CINIS, CINIS, OMNES CADENT. It was Latin, her favorite lost language. She knew a little bit, but not enough to decipher what it meant. The words replayed over and over in her mind, begging for her to decode it. When she looked down at the circular rug she finally noticed the formation; it was similar to one of the witch circles her step-mother used to draw. She shuddered. Not because of the sudden cold wind, but of the creepy familiarity of the situation.<br/><br/>She smirked suddenly Michaels question registered through the thick fog in her brain. "I got a spare light if you got a spare smoke." She chuckled and pulled her lighter out of her pocket, wiggling it teasingly in front of him.