Ahead a bright filtered light beckoned her. It was another vent. The shaft had lead in only one direction. She forced the grate forward and listened as it clattered to the hard floor. This room was similar in size illuminated by two bright lights. An open shower stall and a chair were the only new features. Familiar pipes intersected the walls. Her choice was clear and Scully dropped down. Her bare feet slapped against the concrete pavement. This room was not tiled. Immediately she tore off her jacket and shirt. It was obvious now. She wreaked of bleach and other odors. The chemically treated water seeped into her skin. Her clothes were contaminated. She hated the idea but knew she had to strip. She rotated the shower handle and hoped the water was pure. She unzipped her pants and kicked them off. She was careful not to pick up any chemicals from her clothing and used only her two index fingers. She twisted them into the waistband of her panties and slowly slid them over her pale round globes and past her thighs. She stepped away from them and delicately removed her bra.

The cascade of warmth soothed the irritation from the chemicals. The burning dissipated but the itching remained. At the bottom of the stall Scully noticed a white bar of soap. She picked it up and examined it closely. The words "Clean" were etched into it. She sniffed the bar and trusted it was true. It lathered generously. Scully massaged the soap across her breasts. She lifted them and they bounced back into place. She slid her hands down across her flat stomach. The slick moisturizing soap pleased her. She moved to her privates and gently scrubbed. Scully brought the soap up and rinsed away the suds. She stared at it. The soap was encrusted with curly hair. Small tufts and stray strands were embedded into the bar of soap.

Scully rocked her hips forward into the stream. She tilted her head down and confirmed her fear. She was bare, completely bare! Scully's slick privates glistened up at her. She released the soap and explored her lower region. She caressed her bottom cheeks. They felt rubbery and odd. She had shaved in the past but this was different. The chemicals had even managed to remove the small wisps of hair along the inside of her ass.

Scully finally felt clean. The irritation had stopped. However, she had no clothes and the room was empty. Gingerly she separated her jacket from the heap of clothing on the floor. The fumes of the bleach penetrated her nostrils and she coughed. As she approached the shower the flow of water ceased. Disgusted she dropped her jacket into the stall. It angered her that he was watching.

Agent Scully was nude. She shook her arms then hugged her shiny wet body. She needed to think. She weighed hypothermia against the contaminates of her clothes. She vigorously rubbed her arms and legs to increase her circulation and grimaced at her smooth pussy. Another notion bombarded her under the bright lights. Her skin appeared pink. Normally her natural tones enhanced her look but now she appeared unusually pale. She stared at her hairless vagina. It seemed smaller and she noticed that somehow her labia had retracted. It was just a smooth slit.

Scully concentrated and scanned the concrete blocks for weakness. Stillness only hastened hypothermia so she busied herself with movement. She examined the shower stall, the chair, the vent and the door. Nothing provided a clue. Music interrupted her search and flowed into the room. It was classical in nature but the bass line underneath made her uneasy. She imagined she heard words in the music and strained to pinpoint the source. In the corner there was a small hidden speaker, faux painted to blend with the cement blocks. It was recessed and almost undetectable. She discovered three more hidden speakers and a small iron gate in the corner. The music increased.

Suddenly the room plunged into darkness. This lasted only a moment as a luminescent glow emanated from the walls. Assisted by ultra violet lights three dimensional words such as "baby", "mask", "relax", "choice", "salvation", and "rebirth" covered the cement. The word "Liar" was scrawled repeatedly. There were other words too but she could not decipher the foreign text. Scully whirled as she read the clues. The odd shaped words floated out from the walls, blurred then snapped back into place. Huddled on a tiny section of carpet in the corner she focused her mind. She stretched her neck and spied a soft glow from under the chair. The bent her head underneath and read the words "honest clothes". She tried to move the chair but it was bolted to the floor. She climbed onto the seat and pondered the game.

Her captor was manipulating her auditory and visual senses but there were clues. Only from her seated position did she observe the chair's message. Vantage points and vision were valuable in this twisted fun house. His goal was to save the women he had abducted but he had broken them first. Kelly Frank's suicide pressed on Scully's resolve. She was going to hold on. She would not be broken. Scully shivered again as she turned carefully on the chair. At eye level and just within reach she spotted a red glowing package secreted in the duct.

Scully crouched over the brown paper package with the vent triumphantly mangled next to her. The sharp corners of metal served perfectly to cut the heavy string of the package. In the darkness the package bathed her naked body in an erie red light. Despite the icy floor Scully did not move. She peeled back the paper and it blossomed to a disturbing image. Scully shifted backward on her feet. The clothing snickered at her.

It was a white dress more appropriate for a six year old going to a party twenty years ago. It was adorned with frills and pink bows and a long sash that tied in the back. Underneath the dress were shoes and socks. Without hesitation Scully slipped on the short ankle socks and black shoes. The temperature in the room had dropped dramatically and Scully needed protection. She heaved a heavy sigh and began to dress. The dress was a snug fit and was tight across her chest. The sleeves were short and puffy. The length was the worst part as it barely covered her bottom. Any movement sent a breeze up between her legs. She dug in the paper and came up empty. There were no bloomers or panties. Even in the dark she knew she looked ridiculous.

Time disappeared in the darkness. Hours ticked away. Huddled again in the corner Scully's mind wandered past hazy images of her father, school and her beginnings at the academy. She shook them from her mind. Why was she thinking of school and her father? She chronologically documented and analyzed her actions. Had she been drugged? Was she being drugged now? Was the water and the soap she used pure? Rattled Scully stood and a crisp metallic sound echoed through the room. It had fallen out of the tiny pocket on the front of her new dress. It was a key and it could only fit one door.

The small iron gate creaked and Scully crawled into the tube of concrete. Her progress was arduous and the rough stone chewed at her knees. After several yards, frustrated, Scully tore a strip from her sash and tied her hair back. At least now she could see where she was going. The tunnel turned left, then right then ran straight then turned again. It resembled a maze and the irony of her profession was not lost on her. "I'm a lab rat." she thought. Fifteen minutes had elapsed and the tunnel seemed endless. Light was minimal with only a sporadic bulb to mark the path. Scully paused by one. She looked down and discovered an odd message crudely etched into the block of cement. It simply read "Don't listen!".

Familiar rusted pipes ran near the top of the tube but they were joined by a newer conduit. It was encased in heavy plastic and she ascertained they carried the audio visual cables to a central control room. She continued her journey. Periodically she stopped to visually confirm the new conduit's presence. In a long black stretch of the tunnel she counted the pipes and came up short. Scully moved forward to a lighted section and confirmed it absence. She crawled back and found the missing conduit where it penetrated the wall. Near the location a fan slowly circulated the dank air. She ran her hands around the metal and measured the opening. If she could stop the fan she could enter the shaft.

"Dana?" The modulated voice reverberated through the tunnel.

"You can't stay in there forever. Just a little further. I am here to help. I just want to see your pretty new dress."

Scully remained silent.

Spurned by her new discovery she worked her fingers against the cement behind the frame of the fan's housing.

"Dana. Don't be a naughty girl. Naughty girls get punished."

A hissing sound arrived a moment before a noxious odor attacked her eyes, nose and throat. Scully coughed and sputtered. She awkwardly yanked up her dress to her face but the smoke surrounded her. It was beginning to burn. Scully scrambled through the remaining section of tunnel and rolled out onto a soft surface. On all fours she wheezed and wiped away her tears. Slowly her senses returned and through her misty vision she saw the tunnel had deposited her into a new nightmare.

It had dropped her directly into a large metal crib. The crib was flush to the wall and metal bars surrounded her. The only exit was the tunnel. Another hissing sound alerted her and she watched her options diminish as the railing slid back into place. She would be cut off from the tunnel and completely imprisoned in the crib. Unthinking she painfully blocked her hand between the railing and post of the crib. It stopped and Scully worked her shoe into the gap as she massaged her sore hand. The railing above prevented her from rising so she crawled around to assess her surroundings. She was in a nursery, painted blue and pink with cutouts of rabbits. On the far wall was a table with a stack of white cloth that sent a chill down her spine. Scully began to cry.

In reality she was pretending. She curled into a fetal position and covered her face. If her abductor's motivation was to break her then she would deliver and hopefully gain an advantage. Her performance continued as she pretended to sleep. The lights dimmed as a sickly sweet lullaby played from the hidden speakers. Again the bass beat bothered her. Satisfied she stirred and quietly made her way back into the tunnel.

The fumes had gone but the smell had lingered. She found the fan and removed her shoe. In one swift movement she jammed it into the spinning blades. She squeezed through the tight passage as the motor whined aggressively. She freed her shoe and the blades regained their momentum. Scully rocked her shoulders and wormed through the shaft. At the end a light appeared through another vent. Silently she wriggled up and peered. A wonderful sight greeted her. She had found the control room. A laptop, electronic technical manuals, medical books and stacks of files were strewn across a wooden desk. On one side of the room a door beckoned. Her captor was absent. She had to act fast. Apprehensively she kicked out the vent and dropped into the control room.

Investigative instincts took over and squelched her survival impulse. She dove toward the files and ripped them open. They were filled with gruesome photos. Surgical procedures on unsuspecting women. She needed names. Scully tore into a new pile. The photos of Camille Douglas, Kelly Franks and Beatrice Dorner cried to her. She tucked the files under her arm along with a few more and turned to the laptop. The web-cam was focused on the nursery and in the dark it was obvious she was gone.

The sound of keys clicked outside the door. Panic shot through her. In a moment she would be trapped. The image of her angry father slammed into her brain. He stood and scolded her for being a naughty spy. She was in trouble. She thought about the diapers and imagined her humiliation as her legs were raised and the soft cotton prison encased her privates. They seemed very appropriate for diapers; smooth and hairless just like a baby!

Through her tears Scully tossed the files back on the desk and grabbed a pen. She wedged her body behind the door. The figure she had so confidently pursued earlier now seemed much larger. She plunged the pen into his upper shoulder with all of her force and shoved him hard. He screamed and fell forward onto the edge of the desk. Scully picked up the laptop and cracked it over his head. Sparks danced and the figure collapsed. Scully was dizzy and feared she may pass out. She had only wounded her abductor. Soon he would regain consciousness.

Scully fled. She raced along thin corridors of blocked cement crowded by more pipes. Finally she found a ladder. It lead to darkness and a faint low bass beat. She recognized the warehouse environment and maneuvered across the pitch black cavern. A few times she intersected with a crate and cursed but continued toward the music.

Scully's fingers padded forward then stopped. The texture of glass was unmistakable. She restrained her instincts to kick the glass panels free from their frame. The pounding beat was louder and the music was familiar. Somehow she had reconnected with the house. Confused she temporarily dismissed the puzzle. She traced her fingers downward and worked her nails deep into the soft wet wood and found the small separation for which she hoped. In minutes she worked her fingers under the frame of the small window. She pulled but it would not move. She summoned all of her remaining strength and placed her body close to the floor and lifted. Her arm muscles ripped.

The deafening blast of pounding rock music was a mixed blessing. It confirmed her location but gave no frame of reference. The strong cool air felt good on her face but reminded her of her missing underwear. Scully peered into the void around the window. Careful to maintain a firm grip on the frame she stretched. She strained and waved her free arm for a connection. She pulled back inside and straddled the open window. Scully winced as she placed her bare bottom and privates onto the cold sill. A splinter would be unpleasant especially in that particular area. Scully cautiously reached with her foot in an effort to touch solid ground. Frustrated and close to exhaustion she resumed her position inside.

Scully squinted into the darkness and her eyes adjusted. The faint image of a tree branch materialized. Underneath she saw an even larger and heavier trunk. Her only course of action would be to leap. The larger branch would absorb her fall and from there she could climb or drop down. It was a gamble of an assumption but she needed to move forward. Her abductor would wake soon.

Scully took a moment to steady her breath and her nerve. She placed both feet onto the sill and mused on the picture she presented. The pink and white dress smudged with patches of dirt had ridden up onto her thighs. The cool air caressed her exposed privates and she poised for her leap of faith. With both hands outside of the window she edged her feet forward. Scully was grateful for the traction of the schoolgirl shoes.

She took a deep breath and sprung. She dove hard. Her form resembled an Olympic swimmer as it reacted to the familiar pop of a starting pistol. Upward and outward she flew with her body straight. She slammed squarely onto the massive tree trunk. The force of her impact broke the branch above and it fell onto her back. Scully heaved. The wind knocked out of her.

She struggled to calm her erratic breathing. The pain from her jump manifested itself more prominently and her muscles screamed. Pain is a strong motivator. She had to move. Through her clouded mind Scully assessed her physical position. She had landed exactly where she aimed but only her torso and thighs were supported. Her arms and legs dangled lifelessly over the sides of the massive tree branch. Her legs were straight but her head was lower than her body. This caused her dress to slip down and expose her bare bottom. She had to get out of this position.

She arched her back upward and pushed against the heavy branch but it would not move. She was pinned. Scully shifted slightly forward and jerked her fingers back from the hard surface. Confused she reached out again and made contact. It was rough like the window frame. She traced her fingers back and reached under. She felt more wood. It crisscrossed in a familiar pattern. It was a chair! Scully grimaced as she painfully contorted her left arm behind her and along her body. On her left side approximately ten inches away she found a smooth fabric. She pushed against it. Underneath the fabric was hard and irregular. Numbed by her ordeal she arranged the pieces of the puzzle but they formed no picture. Again she pushed up. This time she used the small leverage from her hand braced on the floor. Scully tried to bring her left arm around but the throbbing pain prohibited the action. Now her left arm was pinned too. She attempted to wriggle forward again. She dug her fingers into the floor but they found no hold. The rock music pounded. Screaming for help was not an option. Scully rested. In a moment she would try again.

Stiffly she craned her neck left and right but there was only darkness. She concentrated to suppress her rising panic. She was trapped. She had been trapped before and always remained calm. "Why was this different?" she asked. The threat of her abductor's return and the image of her current exposed position churned her emotions. She reminded herself the ruffled party dress was not hers, but his. She was weak and tired and felt small in the darkness. She was alone.

Suddenly the room sprung to life and danced to a strange medley of demented laughter, fog and colored lights. Scully gasped as a red gelled lamp pulsed to full strength directly in front of her. She quickly closed her eyes but it was too late. She was temporarily blinded. The room was modest in size but appeared larger due to the mirrors framed in pink and green spaced and hung at various angles around the room. The new lights illuminated the room but provided little information amidst the chaos. Scully squinted past the red spots that impaired her eyesight. She lifted her head toward a mirror. A pink light swept past and Scully caught a brief vision of herself. She was in the Clown Room. A skewed nightmare nursery in which the center piece was a huge maniacal clown. Scully had landed precisely over his exaggerated lap!

The clown was ten feet tall and seated in a gigantic chair a few feet from the high window through which she had jumped. Encouraged by the vibration beneath her she increased her efforts to escape. She glanced at the mirrors again for reference. The dancing colored lights revealed her tiny frame trapped over the clown's lap. The arm she had originally perceived as a branch of life now held her firmly in place. The vibration increased and the intricate metal skeleton sheathed in colorful satin groaned. Scully heard the hiss of hydraulics and tried to turn sideways. Weak she slumped back into her original groove. The hissing increased. Scully pushed up as far as possible and tilted toward a different mirror.