Cold
The cold of midnight struck your face as your limp body was being dragged along. There were voices, male voices. And they were speaking, laughing, arguing. Someone had halted Jay, and in doing so, halted you too, which made you sway completely against the tattooed man.
“Please,” you muttered under your breath.
“She wants to go home, isn't that right, my beauty?” Jay's voice spoke as he picked you up bridal style. He pinched your skin, making you moan painfully in protest.
“See,” Jay continued. “She just had too much to drink,” he laughed.
“Clearly,” another man joined with laughter. “You may go. Have a nice night.”
“Thanks,” Jay said, immediately continuing his walk to God knows where.
Your throat was getting dryer by the minute. The world had stopped spinning, but there wasn't much for you to see as you kept feeling like passing out completely. You were just barely holding onto the edge of reality.
“Put her in the backseat.”
“Don't forget her friend.”
Layla? You were scared for your own life, but hearing them speak about Layla spiked your heartrate even more.
With the last bit of strength you had left, you tried to wiggle your body out of Jay's grasp. But it was futile, only earning you a growl from the man’s throat.
Jay's hands left your body, taking all of the warmth with him. You managed to open your eyes for a split second and were greeted by black leather belonging to the backseats of a car.
Incoherent words left your mouth as you tried to call for help. Once the door next to you would close, you'd be completely in their hands with no one to safe you.
Warm streaks of saltiness coated your cheeks, you hadn't even noticed the tears spilling from your closed eyes.
“Please.” The word was barely audible as it left your lips.
And then the door closed, covering you in an eerie silence. But you weren't alone. A sharp pinch in your neck made you squeal.
“You should be out by now, girl,” a different man said with a bit of a snarl of annoyance. “Do I really have to do everything myself.”
Finally, after struggling against the substance that had been given to you in the club, you succumb to the fluid from the syringe in your neck.
What followed was darkness. And then, after what felt like hours, an intense sensation pulled you right back into your body, and into reality. And reality was, it hurt – like hell.
Something was lodged in your throat, making you want to scream in pain. You were unable to register what was going on, your body was giving all the signals you were in danger but you could do nothing about it. You were still paralyzed.
It felt like your life was being pulled out of your body. But at the same time, something strange was happening. The clouds in your mind were slowly disappearing and you felt the effects of the drugs you had been given reduce.
A painful moan came from your throat as a cold shiver crawled up your spine.
Something sharp left your neck and your lungs automatically gasped for air. Warm breath spread across your injured neck and started traveling upwards.
“You're safe,” whispered a deep voice next to your ear, making you shudder. “I'm a doctor.”
Those words didn't exactly comfort you just yet.
He let out a soft grunt as if he was struggling with something and you could hear him moving away from you. Your senses were slowly getting back and you felt yourself lying on a soft surface. The cold in your spine was spreading through the rest of your body and you couldn't help but shiver every few seconds.
“Here.” He was close again. A large piece of fabric was draped over your cold form – he was giving you a blanket. What type of kidnapper would give you such comfort?
He distanced himself from you again, you could hear his footsteps echoing on the floor. “Your friend is safe, too.”
Taking a few deep breaths, you finally managed to open your eyes after blinking the haze out of your sight. It was dark. A few coloured fluorescent lights on the wall illuminated the space, showing you, you were in some kind of fabricated lab. You couldn't move around just yet, but turning your head sideways was a task you could manage.
A man, tall and with his back towards you, was standing further in the lab, his hands resting on one of the desks. Although it didn't look like he was just resting, his knuckles were completely white as he seemed to be putting a lot of pressure on the desk beneath them.
“My- my friend?” Your voice was almost like a whisper, but seeing his head move slightly towards you, confirmed he had heard you.
“She's home after I helped her. She'll be fine.”
Home? Layla was home... safe. But how? And why were you here?
Your mind started to wander off. You tried to think of what exactly had happened to you, but the more you tried to remember, the more you seemed to forget. It was quite the mess inside your head – or rather, it was too silent. The memories were hard to pull back up.
It must’ve been the drugs they had given you. Although you couldn’t really put a face to the people who had done this to you. For all you knew, this man with his black hair in a bun and his pale skin was one of those men and was now ‘keeping you safe’.
Fear struck like thunder. It gave you the adrenaline you needed to be able to move your body. Your hand slowly made its way towards your neck. The pads of your fingers stroked your skin like feathers, and yet, it was too harsh for the wounds as it stung, making you hiss in pain.
The man was quick to respond as he turned around, brows knit together as his eyes shot towards your face.
It scared you how responsive he was and in a moment of braveness, you pulled yourself together and ordered your body to sit upright. Everything inside you protested, but you managed.
“Don’t-” He wasn’t even able to finish his sentence as you continued to move, which was a big mistake. You pushed yourself too far, wanting to swing your legs over the edge so you could stand. It was black before your eyes before you knew it.
A pair of strong hands caught you just in time.
“You lost a lot of blood.”
Well, at least that explained your faintness. But everything else remained a question.
He slowly pushed you back onto the pillows, draping the blanket back over most of your body. Being so close to him, you could finally see his face. It was a familiar one, but you couldn’t put a name to it.
He was very easy on the eye, though. His dark hair looked so soft. His face was well proportioned, with big crystal blue eyes framed by dark lashes – he held an intriguing expression in those bright pools – and he had a well-kept short beard.
“Who are you?” you whispered.
A small smile crept onto his lips. “Don’t you read the newspapers?”
You frowned. Maybe in a normal, healthy state, you would remember something, but there was still a blockade inside your mind.
You slowly shook your head. “It doesn’t ring a bell.”
“No?” he said. “I’m Doctor Michael Morbius.”