Finally, the dark blackness lifted, bringing back sight and sound. And smell. The city did reek. However, my thoughts still wandered, thinking of home, the small town where I had been raised, my childhood, and the time when everything was mormal...
Then, as if a shard of glass had been shoved into my scull, reality dawned upon me. I knew what had just happened, and that strangers had caught me.
Struggling, I tried to fight my way out. They had caught me. Was my story over now, destined to remain unfinished? No! No, I would fight! The net, though, just got more and more tangled as I struggled.
"Let's get 'er t' talk later, eh? That'd be easier tha' havin' 'er kill 'erself. She's a strong one, she is." someone said, with a heavy accent. Canadian, that's it. "Eh?" had confirmed that. This voice, however, was oddly unconcerned, considering that I was a... whatever I was. No, I would not say the word that had been stirring in my head for hours. No.
"Yes, but we want to know if she's on our side. Do we really want to risk making enemies?" This other voice fitted my nightmare. It was smooth, with an undercurrent of something. Not distaste... more... fear, or maybe just impacience.
"'Kay, then! Wishin' that all o' them 'ere as easy as tha' lil' blond one 'ure didn't help, eh?" Finally, I saw who had caught me. Two men stood, half concealed in the shadow of a doorway. Both were in plain suits and had guns at their sides. My nightmare all over again.
The Canadian one was uncomfortable looking at me. "Small town girl, y' see?" he said. "I cin tell, eh?" The other one looked me in the eyes, and he waved a hand at the other. Moving close to the net, he inclined his head. With as much force as I could muster, I reached towards his head with my fist.
With supernatural speed, he put up a hand and caught my fist. "Miss Cynthia, no. I am displeased that you disrespect us. I am Mr. Stutterheim. This is Mr. Just. We are to escort you to our facility, where your strong spirit will be tempered, so you may help our cause. Mr. Just, please."
Mr. Just handed Mr. Stutterheim a needle, and that made me fight all the harder. I was not beyond kicking this man in the face, but the net stopped me from dealing a stong a blow as I had hoped. Again, Mr. Stutterheim stopped me with his hand. The needle gleamed evily, as it came towards me.
It punctured my skin, drawing blood. Before, that would have made me faint, but now, it made me angry. So angry, that suddenly the world dropped from beneath me, without thought. The top of the net was closed, but as it was suspended from a window, it was high enough that I was away from the reach of the evil man and his evil needle. I hung there, looking down.
I had to escape, but how?