After the second hour waiting at the bar, Alex knew his source wasn’t going show up. Sometimes, people were excited to talk to a reporter. Other times, they flaked out, stopped responding to texts, and didn’t come to meetings. This was obviously one of the latter times.

Alex took a sip of his whiskey and sent another text to the source who wasn’t there. This trip was a bust; it’d been a very long drive and now he’d wasted the whole day. He’d been stood up. And it hadn’t sounded like that interesting of a story, anyways. Something about supposedly unethical medical supplies and a biotech company. He’d been given a name, Anglerfish, and promised a scoop. But he looked down at his phone and his text message was still unanswered. What a disappointment. Alex decided that he’d have another drink, then call it a night.

The click of high heels cut through the low murmur of the hotel bar. Alex looked up from his phone, his eyes drawn to the woman who had just entered. She was beautiful; tall and athletic, in a royal-blue dress that hugged every curve. Her dark hair cascaded over bare shoulders, the outfit just a bit too formal for the rest of the clientele here; she was here to get noticed. And Alex definitely noticed her.

Their gazes met, and Alex felt a jolt of excitement. His source wasn’t going to show; probably they’d had second thoughts about leaking whatever it was they had. Whatever his source had to tell him, he wasn’t going to learn now. But maybe there was something else he could salvage from this trip.

The woman in the dress glided directly towards him, a small smile playing on her lips. Alex straightened his tie, quickly forgetting his professional disappointment.

"Is this seat taken?" the woman asked, her voice rich with a Southern drawl that made Alex's pulse quicken.

"It is now," he replied, gesturing for her to sit. As she settled onto the barstool, the scent of her perfume; jasmine, maybe, enveloped him.

"I'm Emily," she said, extending a perfectly manicured hand.

Alex took it, noticing how soft her skin felt against his. "Alex. Pleasure to meet you, Emily."

She leaned in slightly, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "The pleasure's all mine, darlin'. What brings a handsome man like you to a place like this on a Tuesday night?"

Alex chuckled, surprised by her forwardness. It's been a while since anyone flirted with me like this, he thought. "Just another business trip. Nothing exciting."

"Oh, I don't believe that for a second," Emily purred. She flagged down the bartender. "Two of whatever this gentleman's having, please."

As the bartender poured their drinks, Alex found himself captivated by Emily's accent. Each word seemed to roll off her tongue like honey, and it was unusual for this part of the country.

"So, tell me more about this 'nothing exciting' business trip of yours," she said, leaning in closer.

Alex stammered slightly, determined to make sure he kept Emily’s attention. "Well, I’m an investigative reporter, actually."

Emily smiled. "Well, that’s not somethin’ you hear every day."

Emily's gaze drifted past Alex, to the plate glass window at the side of the bar. "Oh my, looks like there’s a storm coming," she murmured, pointing over his shoulder.

Alex turned instinctively, following her gaze. It was getting dark outside, and indeed, the first few drops of rain were collecting on the glass.

In that split second, as Alex turned, Emily's hand moved fast. A small vial appeared from her clutch, its contents disappeared into Alex's drink with barely a ripple.

She smiled as he turned back. For a moment, he thought the smile looked… hungry. He took a long sip of his drink, savoring the burn.

The small talk continued for a few minutes. The weather, air travel, rental cars… Emily asked questions and Alex liked the attention. As it got darker outside, Emily leaned in closer, her light perfume still intoxicating. "Tell me, Alex, where do you think your investigation will take you tonight?” She flirted.

Alex felt a warmth spreading through his body, his thoughts becoming slightly fuzzy as he drank. "I… well… I think usually I just order room service and catch up on emails."

"That sounds awfully lonely," Emily purred, her hand resting on his thigh. "A man like you deserves some company, don’t you think?"

Alex's heart sped up, a mix of excitement and an odd dizziness washing over him. "I… yes, I suppose maybe you're right," he managed, his words slightly slurred. This trip wouldn’t be a bust after all!

Emily's smile was predatory, but Alex was feeling quite buzzed now, and would never notice. "Why don't we continue this conversation somewhere more private? Say… my room?"

Alex nodded, the room spinning slightly. "That sounds… nice," he mumbled, fighting to focus on Emily's mesmerizing eyes.

As Emily helped him to his feet, a small voice in the back of Alex's mind whispered a warning. Had he really gotten this drunk? But the promise of a thrilling night, coupled with his increasingly muddled thoughts, drowned the warning out completely.

Alex stumbled as he followed Emily towards the elevator; the floor seemed slippery, and his steps were unsteady. The hotel lobby seemed to stretch and distort before his eyes, and he found himself leaning heavily on Emily's slender frame.

"Whoa there, darlin’," Emily cooed, her southern drawl thick with amusement.

Alex blinked hard, trying to clear the fog from his mind. "I'm… I'm fine. Just a little dizzy," he slurred, struggling to form coherent thoughts.

Emily's arm snaked around his waist, steadying him. "Don't you worry, sugar. I've got you," she purred, guiding him into the elevator.

As the doors closed, Alex felt his eyelids growing heavy. He leaned against the wall, fighting to stay awake. "Emily, I… I don't feel so good," he mumbled.

In response, Emily pressed her body against his, her lips meeting his in a passionate kiss. Alex's world spun, his senses overwhelmed by her touch and the cocktails. He barely registered the soft ding of the elevator or the fact that Emily's hand had reached past him to press a button.

"Just relax, darlin'," Emily whispered against his ear. "We're gonna have ourselves a real good time."

Alex nodded groggily, his mind slowing. A small part of him knew something was wrong, but he couldn't muster the strength to care.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing a dimly lit corridor. Emily's lips were still pressed against Alex's, her hands roaming his body as she guided him out.

"Where… where are we?" Alex mumbled against her mouth, his vision blurring.

Emily giggled, a sound that sent chills down Alex's spine. "Going to my room, sugar. Just for us."

She pulled him down the hallway, her arm firmly around his waist. Alex's feet felt like lead, each step a monumental effort.

"Almost there," Emily cooed, her southern drawl thick with anticipation. “Come on, keep walking, darlin’.

They reached a nondescript door, which Emily opened with a keycard. As they stumbled inside, Alex's clouded mind didn’t register anything other than Emily’s arms around him, moving him into the room. He was only vaguely aware of the door slamming behind them.

With surprising strength, Emily pushed Alex onto the bed. He fell back, his world spinning. As he struggled to focus, he noticed something odd about the bed. "Is this… plastic?" he asked, his hand brushing against the crinkly surface.

But Emily was already working on his tie, her nimble fingers making quick work of the knot. "Don't you worry about that, darlin'. Let's get you more comfortable."

Alex's tie was off, and then his suit jacket. The world was stuttering, he was missing time. He tried to sit up, but his body felt impossibly heavy. "Emily, I’m not sure what… I…"

"Shh," she hushed him, unbuttoning his shirt. "Just relax. You're in good hands. I’ll do all the work."

As Emily continued to undress him, Alex was struggling to participate and stay awake. Through his drugged haze, this whole hotel room seemed odd, but it was difficult to figure out why exactly as he head swam. A part of him knew he should be alarmed and try to look around, but the thought slipped away like smoke. This woman was undressing him and despite his intoxication, he wanted her.

“I want you…" he mumbled, his words slurring together.

Emily’s hands went to his belt buckle. "Oh, Alex," she said, her voice taking on a deep, throaty edge, "I’ve got you, darlin’"

With that, she resumed her task, efficiently stripping him down to his underwear, then pulling that off, too. Alex tried to concentrate, to reciprocate, but his head felt full of cotton.

Emily straddled Alex, her lithe body pressing against his, pushing him onto his back. She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. "Now, darlin', the real fun begins," she purred, her Southern drawl thick with promise.

Alex's head swam, but a spark of desire cut through the fog. "Emily…" he mumbled, struggling to form coherent thoughts.

"Shh, just enjoy," she whispered, kissing him deeply.

As their bodies moved together, Emily’s hands ran along his skin, caressing his arms. Alex felt something soft wrap around his left wrist, pulling his arm above his head, against the headboard.

"What's that?" he slurred, trying to pull his arm down, and failing. It felt like it was tangled in something.

Emily smiled, her eyes glinting. "Just a little somethin' to spice things up, sugar. We’re gonna have so much fun." She firmly pulled his other arm above his head, too.

She swiftly secured his other wrist, kissed him again, then moved to his ankles. Alex's drugged mind struggled to comprehend the situation.

"I don't… I'm not sure…" he mumbled, tugging weakly at what he now realized were padded leather straps, velcroed tightly around his wrists and ankles. They didn’t seem like fuzzy handcuffs, but rather solid purpose-built medical restraints; propositioned and left open so Emily could quickly press them closed. His heart started to pump faster, and suddenly he was not feeling quite so sleepy and relaxed as he had been.

Emily patted his cheek, slowly pulling herself up from the bed. "Now, you just relax. I’ve got to slip into somethin' more appropriate. Be right back, handsome."

As she sauntered away, Alex blinked heavily, trying to clear his vision. He wanted to look around the room, to figure out where he was. But instead, time began to stretch… each blink becoming longer and longer….

Some time passed; how much was impossible to say. A few minutes, at least. Maybe more than a few. Maybe long enough for some of the drugged drink to wear off?

The next thing Alex knew, Emily appeared again. For a moment, Alex thought she was wearing her blue dress still, but then his eyes widened in confusion. While she still was covered in blue, the dress was gone. Instead, she wore crisp blue medical scrubs, her dark hair neatly tucked beneath a crisp blue surgical cap. A white surgical mask was tied around her neck, ready to be pulled up.

Was this a game? Some sort of role play? "What's... what's going on?" Alex slurred, his usually confident voice trembling. He tried to sit up, and was reminded that his wrist and ankles were tied to the bed. He tugged at the restraints, but his limbs felt like lead weights.

Emily's southern drawl had vanished, replaced by a cool, clinical tone. "Now, Mr. Thompson, let's not make this difficult."

Alex was momentarily confused as she said his last name. His head was full of cotton, but… if he focused real hard… he was fairly sure he hadn’t told this woman his full name. Which meant… that meant something. It was hard to reason it out, but his heart started to beat faster again…

“First, Mr. Thompson. I have a few questions to ask you, and it’s very important you tell me the truth. Do you understand?“

His mind whirled. Had she been… after him? Had she planned this? Tying him up, getting him a compromised position? Was this about blackmail?

“What have you learned about Anglerfish Pharmaceuticals?”

Alex’s blurry mind raced. “What? I was supposed to meet… I… how do you know…" He stammered out, without thinking. His mouth moved faster than his mind. Emily looked pleased.

“Good, Mr. Thompson. Yes, you were meeting someone who wanted to talk about Anglerfish. Did they tell you anything before today? You can tell me…” Emily’s eyes bored a hole in him.

Alex momentarily considered lying. Refusing to answer. But he was scared now, and it was still hard to think clearly. “No!” He spat out. “I don’t know anything about it! Just the name!"

“That’s good, Mr. Thompson. I’ll check your phone to be sure, but I believe you. How about the Mindscape Clinic? Does that mean anything to you?”

“No!” Alex spat out. Emily looked happy as he answered without thinking.

“That makes this easy, then. Just a few more questions, and then we’ll be all done. Are you allergic to any medications?”

“What? No…”

“Do you have asthma, sleep apnea, or a history of airway problems?”

“No… What?” His mind reeled. "Emily, please," he pleaded, "whatever this is, we can talk about it. I'm sure we can come to some sort of... arrangement. I’ll tell you whatever you want!"

She chuckled, the sound devoid of warmth. "Oh, Mr. Thompson. I'm afraid this isn't something you can negotiate your way out of. I’m a professional, you see, and I have a job to do.” Emily moved to his side, and began wrapping a translucent yellow isolation gown over her blue scrubs.

“Hey, I already told you! I don’t know anything!” Alex begged. Why hadn’t Emily stopped?

“And I believe you. But my employers need to be sure you aren’t writing any stories for a little while, so we’re going to be sure,” as she spoke, Emily had pulled up her white mask, and pulled on pair of purple medical gloves, preparing for a medical procedure as if it was the most casual bedroom activity.

The woman moved to a nearby side table; Alex could see she uncovered a tray full of plastic and metal tools. Alex thrashed weakly against the restraints. "No! Stop! I don't consent to this!"

"Consent?" Emily arched an eyebrow. "Hon, that part of our encounter is quite over. It was fun, though, wasn’t it?"

Alex felt the gowned woman wrapping something tight, elastic, around his forearm. She scrubbed the back of his hand with some sort of cold cleanser, and she held his wrist tightly.

Alex winced at the sharp prick as a needle slid into a vein. “Good,” Emily commented, more to herself than to him. He’d had no warning, and it was done before he’d realized what she was doing. His reactions were still slow, and she had the catheter installed before he’d decided to struggle, before he’d even tried to pull his hand away. Not that he could move much, tied to the bed, of course.

"You won't get away with this," he growled, trying to summon some sense of command or authority. But his voice shook.

Emily merely smiled, taping the IV in place.

Emily disappeared from view again. Alex felt a strange clarity beginning to seep back into his drug-addled mind. The world didn’t stutter anymore; instead, the fog in his head was lifting, albeit slowly, maybe burned off by his increasing fear. If he concentrated hard, he could focus on his surroundings. He looked around, maybe looking for a way out.

It was clear the room was, actually, a hotel room; someone had removed the cheap writing desk, the small dresser, the TV. Alex lay on the Queen bed in the middle. And, he could see, the walls and floor were covered in thick, clear plastic sheeting, carefully taped at the seams. The crinkle of the plastic material beneath him suddenly felt quite ominous, as he realized exactly what this all looked like.

On each side of the bed were the hotel’s end tables, and they’d been repurposed. On one, a small medical computer of some sort; a monitor and with a coil of wires, a tray with tools and plastic that Emily had used to put her needle in his hand. He could see a bag of fluid, a number of syringes, some full of colored liquids. Alex didn’t know what that all was, but it wasn’t good. Next to the medical equipment, he could see his wallet, phone, room and car keys packaged up in a plastic bag. Emily had been busy…

Alex’s head flopped to the other side. On the other end table turned medical stand, the woman was assembling an intimidating metal contraption. Set on a medical-blue colored towel, it resembled a skeletal metal helmet, designed to encase an entire head, with screws all around its base. Protruding ominously from its crown was a large, menacing needle, which looked like it would slide into the brain of whoever was wearing it. Alex's eyes widened as he took in the horrific looking apparatus, and realized it was intended to be his brain.

"Oh, don’t be scared, Mr. Thompson,” Emily hardly sounded reassuring. “I’ve done this many times. You’re my second patient today!” Alex thought about his source who had not shown up to the bar.

"Now, let's finish getting you all set up," Emily said, her voice clinically detached. From below the bed, somewhere he hadn’t seen, she reached for a thin clear plastic tube, uncoiling it.

"What's that?" Alex asked, his voice hoarse with fear.

"Just a little oxygen to help you breathe easier," Emily replied, threading the tube around his face. Alex flinched as she inserted the prongs into his nostrils. He heard a hiss and the cool rush of oxygen filled his nose.

"Now, Mr. Thompson," Emily said, her voice eerily calm, "We need to monitor your vitals during the procedure." Alex's chest heaved with panicked breaths as Emily leaned over him. He remembered how soft her hands and been, but now the purple gloves were firm as she pressed electrodes on his chest. She took her time, attaching a colored wire to each one. A blood pressure cuff went around his right arm, a long tube connecting it to the monitor he’d seen by his side. A small plastic clip went on one of Alex’s fingers.

As soon as the last sensor was in place, a rhythmic beeping filled the room. Emily pressed some buttons, and the blood pressure cuff squeezed tightly.

“There. All wired up.” Emily was looking at the beeping monitor, which now traced a ECG and was full of numbers. “Your blood pressure seems a little high, but that’s understandable, given the circumstances.”

Emily turned back towards her helpless paramour, and held up a syringe filled with a milky white liquid. "Well, Mr. Thompson, I’ve enjoyed our time together, but I’m afraid it’s come to an end," Her southern drawl had resurfaced, dripping with false sweetness.

Alex’s mind raced, desperately searching for a way out. He wrist weren’t coming loose, and he still thought that maybe he could say something, anything…

"Emily," he begged, trying to meet her gaze, "What… what exactly are you going to do to me? What is that metal thing?"

She leaned in close, her blue eyes piercing into his. “Awwww, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. I’m going to give you something to make you sleep and you won’t feel a thing. There’s no reason to be scared.”

Alex’s mind was still fuzzy, but even so, he sensed this was the point of no return for him.

"No, please… don't," he begged. Threats hadn’t worked, and now he tried the opposite approach. “Please just let me go! If you let me go I won’t… won’t tell anyone. I won’t get you in trouble… I promise!”

But Emily only quietly laughed. “Oh, I’m not worried about that. You’re not going to remember anything about tonight. Not even the fun parts! In a couple of hours, you’re barely going to remember your own name,” she said, as she professionally twisted the syringe into a tiny port on his IV.

She chuckled, darkly, leaning close to whisper in his ear. “Maybe, darlin, I’ll leave you a note with my number and we can try this night again. I’ll make it end the same way, though…”

Before Alex could think of anything else to say, anything else to try, she smoothly started to inject the white syringe’s contents. "Now, you might feel a little burning sensation. Don't worry, that's perfectly normal."

The white liquid raced down the IV tube and disappeared into his hand. Alex instinctively tried to pull away, but with the cannula taped in his restrained hand, it was a useless gesture. A dull heat began in his wrist, and, to his horror, he felt it begin to creep up his arm. With a surge of desperation, he thrashed against the restraints, his muscles straining against the soft leather. The plastic sheet beneath him crinkled loudly.

"Wait, wait, don’t…" he mumbled, trying to stall, trying to think of any way out. This felt so unfair. It hadn’t even seemed like a good story! He tugged frantically at his right wrist, feeling the leather bite into his skin.

"It's no use, darlin'," Emily's playful accent was mocking him. She merely ignored his plea, pushing more and more of the anesthetic into her unwilling patient.“Don’t struggle, Mr. Thompson. Just enjoy the ride. It’ll be over in just a few more seconds.”

The burning was in his shoulder now. The white syringe was half empty, and Emily slowly pushed more and more. Alex thrashed weakly against the restraints, but it wasn’t helping at all. Suddenly, he was dizzy; the drug had reached his brain. The room began to spin, the strangely clinical hotel room blurring into a nightmarish swirl of blurry colors. The whole world tilted and warped; Emily's face distorting into a twisted white mask and a confusing jumble.

“There. Off you go, darlin', ” Emily’s voice echoed strangely in his ears. “Sweet dreams!”

"No... please..." he mumbled, his entire world spinning impossibly fast. As darkness crept in from the edges of his vision, he wondered again what Emily was going to do to him once he was asleep. Would he remember her at all? It was his last coherent thought. His heavy eyelids closed, plunging him into complete darkness. He had one second more of awareness. He felt like he was falling.

Then, in another instant, Alex Thompson’s night ended. But Emily still had quite a bit of work to do.