She awakens on a new place

I saw their shadows as their feet blocked the light seeping under the cell. They were coming in, coming for me, that much was obvious. I moved to the farthest wall of the cell, tried to make myself as small as possible, then the lights went out.

In the absolute darkness I heard them. Then their hands were all over me, rough hands, men’s hands. “No! No!” I screamed and then that was all.

When I awoke I was lying on a bed, looking up at a purple canopy. I quickly shut my eyes lest someone was watching me, and I strained my senses trying to hear them, trying to sense another’s presence, but all I could hear was the crackling of a fire and the wind blowing in the chimney.

I opened my eyes just a crack.

I was in a room, and I was apparently alone. There was the smell of food, wonderful, comforting food. I couldn’t remember when last I’d eaten. I was famished.

Cautiously I opened my eyes all the way and blinked. The bed I was in was huge and ornate, the posts that held the canopy were carved with intricate designs. The room was also very big. In the orange glow of the fire light I could scarcely see the ceiling, hidden in shadows. There was dark paneling on the walls, bare stone above the paneling. It appeared to be a room in a castle or chateau, very old, ancient.

At the foot of the bed was a robe and a pair of slippers. I was still naked, but I wasn’t cold now. The fire warmed the room and felt wonderful on my skin. I slid off the bed and threw the robe around me. I was weak, but that might have been from hunger. The smell was coming from a table not far away.

The table was arrayed with covered dishes and set for one. I picked up one cover and was greeted by a waft of fragrant steam. Chops of some sort, in a brown gravy. Another held chicken in a white sauce, another a mountain of mashed potatoes, the butter still melting on top. There were vegetables, fruits, bread warm from the oven. Without even sitting down I began to stuff the food into my mouth, waiting for someone to burst in on me and take me away.

But no one did, and I finished my meal in peace. When I had eaten enough, I looked about.
“Hello?” I called. “Is anyone here?”

No answer. Just the wind and the crackling of the fire.
I got up and went to the large, wooden door. It was locked, of course. The knob didn’t even move. There was another door at the other end of the room and that one was open. It led to a large bathroom, complete with an old style clawed tub and shower. There were towels and soap laid out, and other things I didn’t look at.

There were French doors on two walls of the room, and I went to them. The glass seemed to be smoked or painted, and I had to cup my hands around my face in order to look out. I saw a landscape of rolling hills and what appeared to be orchards, all bare now, and dusted with a coating of snow.

Snow.

I’d been **** in late summer.

How long had I been here? And where in God’s name was I?

“Hello? Hello? Is anybody here? Anybody?”

Don’t think about it, I told myself. There will be an explanation and then you’ll know. Meanwhile, don’t think about it. There’s nothing you can do about it.

I went back to the bathroom. My hair was filthy and matted, and my skin was covered with dirt from the cell. The bathroom door closed, but it didn’t lock. There was soap and shampoo, toothpaste and toothbrush and even makeup, all brand new and all very expensive brands. I decided to risk it and get clean. I ran the shower. The water was hot and hard, and I soaped and rinsed several times, washed my hair twice and stood there letting the deliciously hot water wash the last bits of chill from my body. When I was perfectly clean I soaped again and shaved with a brand new razor. Why not?

The shower did more to restore my spirits than even the food had, and I emerged feeling almost human. I went and sat at the table as I dried my hair, and was picking at some food when I saw something on the bed.

There were clothes laid out there. Clothes where there hadn’t been any before. Someone had been in here while I was naked in the shower. Someone had laid clothes out for me
I shuddered violently but I didn’t scream. I had no voice. I sat in the chair for a long time looking at the clothes, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. The wind was picking up. It was rattling the glass in the French doors and making the fire leap in the grate.

The only thing that I could think was that I’d gone mad. I’d gone mad and this was some sort of sanitarium or hospital. I was hallucinating things. Maybe the cell, maybe this room, maybe all of it.
The thought terrified me. If I was mad then I couldn’t even trust my own perceptions, couldn’t trust my own thoughts. What I was thinking now might be mad as well.

I started to cry. I’d cried before, in the cell, but that had been from fear. Now I wept out of despair. If I was mad, all was lost. Whom could I trust?

“Help me!” I cried out. “I know you’re there! Please! Help me!”

I got on the bed, carefully avoiding the clothes. I climbed under the blankets, pulled them up to my nose and lie there, just waiting. Someone would have to come and take the dishes away. Then I would find out what I was doing there. I would make them tell me.

Hour after hour passed. The wind blew, the fire burned down to a glow of embers.

At last I slept.