well-timed right cross struck the second man’s jaw with a resounding crack. This man, however, didn’t fall like the other. He grabbed her arm with unyielding strength. Meanwhile the third man tackled her, toppling her and his fellow attacker into a heap.
Having nothing to lose, Shanda grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked, ripping follicles from scalp. The frightening shriek of surprise gave her hope. An elbow approached her face, but she was unable to avoid the blow. She rolled her head in the direction of the elbow, minimizing the impact. Jagged streaks of blue lightening filled her vision as the blow struck her head. In a fit of fury she squirmed free of her attackers. She ran toward the safety of the nearest building but her legs were sluggish, refusing to obey her command. The world tilted, and her ears rang with an annoying buzz. The two men gripped her arms. As much as she tried to fight, her body betrayed her, and she surrendered to the oncoming darkness.
* * * *
The low hum of an air recirculation system woke her from the terrible dream. She opened her eyes, struggling to focus on unfamiliar surroundings. Her head throbbed and her limbs felt heavy.
As she sat up, the realization that she was naked had her reaching for the sheets to cover her torso. She spied her clothing neatly folded on a nearby chair.
She looked around: A fair-sized room, three white walls, and one clear – likely made of glass or plastic. A sofa directly opposite her bed looked inviting. A bar refrigerator and kitchenette were set up near the sofa and a coffee table sat against the opposite wall, next to a sink, mirror, toilet and shower stall. A heavy gray curtain hung from a ceiling track around the lavatory as if someone had gone to some effort to ensure a modicum of privacy.
Shanda spied a moving camera mounted inside a clear concave shielding. She wrapped the bedcovers more tightly around her body, shielding her from prying eyes and then fetched her clothing.
Her muscles were rubbery, and each step took great effort and concentration. She nearly stumbled twice before reaching her clothing. Something was desperately wrong. She took the garments and gave the camera a disgusted look. She reached the protection of the gray curtain, drew it closed and dressed.
She traced the outline of her upper body. Fingertips paused at bony protrusions on her once soft shoulders. Her eyes followed her fingertips in the mirror as they probed the indentations of her protruding ribcage. Her hand caressed the tight skin of her stomach. Her hip bones protruded from her torso and the feminine roundness in her lower stomach had vanished, replaced by a taut abdomen.
“I must have lost at least fifteen pounds. What the hell happened to me?” she wondered aloud.
She put on her bra and was somewhat satisfied as she still filled it. But her jeans hung loose and sagged upon her hips, yet she knew they were form fitting the last time she had them on. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. How long had she been asleep?
Her face had been washed clean of make-up and the once neon purple that highlighted her hair was now faded and dull. Despite fear and confusion Shanda felt somewhat better once she was dressed and less exposed to the camera.
She drew the curtain back and walked toward the clear wall. Seeing no obvious door, she absently placed a palm against the clear barrier. A slight tingling coursed through her hand, uncomfortable but not unbearable. An electrical field? What was its purpose? Clearly, it wouldn’t deter her from approaching the transparent wall.
“This is some sort of jail cell,” she whispered with a sinking feeling in her chest.
Following a moment assessing her situation, Shanda straightened to her full height and walked over to the camera unit. She waved her hands wildly. “Hey in there, what’s going on?” She then put her hands on her hips, awaiting some kind of answer.
Then the horrible truth hit her. “Erik!” she
Having nothing to lose, Shanda grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked, ripping follicles from scalp. The frightening shriek of surprise gave her hope. An elbow approached her face, but she was unable to avoid the blow. She rolled her head in the direction of the elbow, minimizing the impact. Jagged streaks of blue lightening filled her vision as the blow struck her head. In a fit of fury she squirmed free of her attackers. She ran toward the safety of the nearest building but her legs were sluggish, refusing to obey her command. The world tilted, and her ears rang with an annoying buzz. The two men gripped her arms. As much as she tried to fight, her body betrayed her, and she surrendered to the oncoming darkness.
* * * *
The low hum of an air recirculation system woke her from the terrible dream. She opened her eyes, struggling to focus on unfamiliar surroundings. Her head throbbed and her limbs felt heavy.
As she sat up, the realization that she was naked had her reaching for the sheets to cover her torso. She spied her clothing neatly folded on a nearby chair.
She looked around: A fair-sized room, three white walls, and one clear – likely made of glass or plastic. A sofa directly opposite her bed looked inviting. A bar refrigerator and kitchenette were set up near the sofa and a coffee table sat against the opposite wall, next to a sink, mirror, toilet and shower stall. A heavy gray curtain hung from a ceiling track around the lavatory as if someone had gone to some effort to ensure a modicum of privacy.
Shanda spied a moving camera mounted inside a clear concave shielding. She wrapped the bedcovers more tightly around her body, shielding her from prying eyes and then fetched her clothing.
Her muscles were rubbery, and each step took great effort and concentration. She nearly stumbled twice before reaching her clothing. Something was desperately wrong. She took the garments and gave the camera a disgusted look. She reached the protection of the gray curtain, drew it closed and dressed.
She traced the outline of her upper body. Fingertips paused at bony protrusions on her once soft shoulders. Her eyes followed her fingertips in the mirror as they probed the indentations of her protruding ribcage. Her hand caressed the tight skin of her stomach. Her hip bones protruded from her torso and the feminine roundness in her lower stomach had vanished, replaced by a taut abdomen.
“I must have lost at least fifteen pounds. What the hell happened to me?” she wondered aloud.
She put on her bra and was somewhat satisfied as she still filled it. But her jeans hung loose and sagged upon her hips, yet she knew they were form fitting the last time she had them on. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. How long had she been asleep?
Her face had been washed clean of make-up and the once neon purple that highlighted her hair was now faded and dull. Despite fear and confusion Shanda felt somewhat better once she was dressed and less exposed to the camera.
She drew the curtain back and walked toward the clear wall. Seeing no obvious door, she absently placed a palm against the clear barrier. A slight tingling coursed through her hand, uncomfortable but not unbearable. An electrical field? What was its purpose? Clearly, it wouldn’t deter her from approaching the transparent wall.
“This is some sort of jail cell,” she whispered with a sinking feeling in her chest.
Following a moment assessing her situation, Shanda straightened to her full height and walked over to the camera unit. She waved her hands wildly. “Hey in there, what’s going on?” She then put her hands on her hips, awaiting some kind of answer.
Then the horrible truth hit her. “Erik!” she
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