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Rose awoke in a fit of coughing. She had dreamt she was back at school and that the professors were about to tell her what she was. She opened her eyes, only for them to begin stinging immediatly. She tried to sit up, but ended up falling off the bed because her hands did not move freely. And the floor was terribly cold against her bare skin.
She shook her head to try to clear her thoughts, and got up on her hands and knees. She opened her eyes, and was met again with the burning. But she endured it, and looked at her hands. They were shackled together, which surprised her. But what alarmed her more was the thick red gas that was filling the air. She got up and looked around. She was in some kind of cave, and a table off to the side seemed to be emitting the strange gas. There was an exit on the far end, which seemed open. She headed that way, and almost lost her balance again. She felt bottom heavy, and tried to look behind her... but there was nothing there.
Near the entrance, she saw a pile of laundry. But she wouldn't be able to put anything on with those shackles. She looked around, hoping to see something she could use to break them, and saw, near her on the wall, a key.
"No way." she mumbled as she grabbed it. She fitted it into the lock on her right hand shackle, almost certain of its failure, when it clicked, and the thing fell off on that side. Noticing, though, that the red smoke was getting thicker, she held on to the key, grabbed the pile of clothes, and took off down the tunnel.
As she stumbled down the slope of the dark tunnel, she remembered bobbing and seeing... torches?... flowing past her. She held her left hand (dangling the shackle) along the wall, and eventually found the groove for a torch. She felt at it more, but there was no torch there. She sighed, and contiuned down the tunnel. She noticed that the gas did not seem to be present anymore, and she took a great big breath. She sneezed a few times, and kept heading down.
She could see a dim kind of light up ahead, and could smell... salt water? The familiar scent hurried her along, until she saw her obstacle. About ten feet down the slope of the tunnel, illuminated by some slight reflection, the ocean filled the tunnel. She plopped down where she was, and immediatly hopped back up. Something was odd... but she didn't see anything behind her. Shaking her head, thinking her mind was playing with her, rose began to rummage through the pile of clothes she had grabbed. She found a top, and threw it on, and a pair of capris. A pair of soft slippers was in the pile too, and, laughing, Rose put those on too. The rest she dropped. She then took the key and fit it in the left hand shackle, unlocked it, and it fell to the ground.
Satisifed, she walked up to where the water was lapping, and let it wash over her feet. It was cold... very cold. Judging by the light filtering through, it was probably from the moon, white-ish instead of golden. She took a few deep breaths, slowly, and then plunged into the water. She was a good swimmer, but the tunnel was made for walking in, and descended slowly. She swam as quick as she could, but was already feeling the pressure of bad air caught in her lungs. She let a few bubbles escape her lips, and continued down. It was only a moment or two more, her lungs in agony, and the tunnel let out into the ocean. Relieved, she let out more air, and began to swim straight up.
Perhaps she should have swam up and away, for as she neared the surface, a wave caught her and slammed her into the cliff.
She tried to scream as she was being lifted and thrown into the cliff, but all that did was fill her mouth with saltwater. There was a great flash of white, and then nothingness....

Rose, unconsious, was tossed by the waves a few more times. Tossed against the side of the rough cliff repeatedly, she was, however, also slowly moving south; closer to the soft sandy shores. Finally, a wave carried her off the cliff side completely, and rolled her onto the sandy beach. She was breathing, still, amazingly enough, but also bleeding badly from many places, including her head.
The clothes she wore were red, which, when combined by the many serious gashes and the amount of blood she was losing, Rose looked more like leftovers from a vicious shark than a live person.