“Give it to her,” one of the guys holding her down says.
Another one brings out a needle and shoves it into her neck, making her go limp.
“Bring them inside,” he growls.
I try to shriek, but the man holding me stuffs a dirty rag into my mouth, and then the needle hits my skin.
The pain and subsequent energy loss are almost instant, as though something drains me of my life until I can no longer keep my eyes open, and everything goes dark.
When I come to again,I don’t know how much time has passed. Or where I am.
And I can’t feel my legs.
Everything is fuzzy—not just my head but my sight too.
“What … what’s happening?” I mutter, but my speech slurs.
A man laughs. “Enjoying the little trip, princess?”
Who is that?
And what does he mean by trip?
Memories of a gun flash through my mind, followed by hands shoving me into a van, the darkness surrounding me, the images all blurring into one jumbled mess. But the one thing I remember is the sharp object piercing my skin near my neck.
“What did you do to me?” I ask with a raspy voice.
“Gave you a li’l something so you’d stop fighting,” he replies. “Don’t worry, it’ll wear off soon enough.” He grips my cheeks and smushes them together. “And then you’ll be able to fully enjoy all your fucking cell has to offer.”
My … cell?
I can hear footsteps along with a door squeaking before being shuttered, metal against metal, and my eyes open wide.
The room I’m in is large enough to fit maybe one or two people, the walls and ceiling encased with tiles that look bloated. Soundproofing.
Oh God.
I jerk my hands, but they’re tied to the wall with a chain, just like my ankles.
Oh no, no, no!
“Let me out!” I shriek. “Please, let me out!”
Panic bubbles to the surface as I fight the chains, to no avail.
Every sound I make falls on deaf ears.
Every inch I try to move, I’m blocked.
Nothing works.
Nothing at all.
And slowly but surely, I’m starting to lose my mind.
Like a prisoner inside my own body, I cease to exist.
I don’t knowhow much time has passed since the door last opened.