The first thing I notice is the light. It's painfully bright, swamping out all other sensations as it glares into my eyes. I instinctively try to clench my eyes shut to block it out, but that's when I notice that I can't close my eyes. I can't even narrow them to block out some of the glare. Now that I actually concentrate on them, I realize I'm not even blinking. I'm just staring straight ahead. My eyes start to burn with the urge to blink them, but I can't close them at all.
I realize then that I can't move at all. I can't stand up, I can't look around, I can't move a single muscle. I can't even twitch. I'm breathing, my heart is beating, but that's all the motion I seem to be capable of. That's why the lights are so bright. My pupils aren't contracting.
I start to panic, then, but it's a weirdly dreamy and distant sort of panic because my body isn't joining in. My breath doesn't quicken; my heartbeat doesn't pound in my ears. I just keep taking slow, lazy breaths and staring straight ahead as inside my body, I quietly freak the hell out. What's happened to me? Where am I? I try to think back, figure out how I got here, but the whole thing just seems to be a blank inside my head.
I start to become aware of other sensations. There's a damp spot on my t-shirt right over my breasts. I notice the way my jaw is hanging open, and realize it must be drool. My mouth feels dry now, though. I want to swallow, but that doesn't work either.
There's also dampness between my thighs. What was I doing? Whatever it was, I must have been turned on, but I don't remember any of it. I try to figure out exactly what the last thing is that I can remember, but then I hear the voices.
"Come on," one of them says. It's a man's voice. He sounds harsh and impatient. "According to the doc, we've got exactly seven minutes to grab the girls we want and get out of here before the effect wears off and they start thinking again. We're gonna do this row by row, and I don't want any fuckups."
Row by row...that rings a bell. I can't move my head or even my eyes, but suddenly the white space in front of me makes sense. I'm looking at a movie screen. I must be sitting in a theater chair. I listen, and hear the same quiet breathing to my left and right as I can hear from my own mouth.
"Damn," I hear another voice say, "look at the tits on that one!" The voices sound coarse, uneducated, and very loud in the stillness. When the men aren't speaking, all I can hear is quiet breathing. I want to know how many other people are sitting here like me, but I can't turn my head to look.
"Yeah, but she ain't on our list, so we ain't taking her," the first man says. He must be the leader. "Only the ones on the list, got it? Now, Row A, we got two. Seat 14 and Seat 26."
What row am I in? What seat? It's suddenly the most important piece of knowledge in the world, and I struggle to remember just how I got in here. I try to shut out the voices and concentrate.
I think back to the last clear memory I had. It was this afternoon, out at the mall. There was a guy there, a big guy. Kind of creepy looking, but he had on an employee badge and it was out in public in the middle of a crowd, so I wasn't worried. He handed me a piece of paper, told me it was a free pass to see a test screening of a new movie. I remember asking what it was, but he said he couldn't tell me. Some sort of big top secret.
I recognize the voice, now. "Oh, mama!" he says loudly. "Jesus, what a pair! Seriously, Jake, look at these!"
"Fucking Christ!" Leader says. I'm not sure if he's Jake, or if the Movie Pass Guy is talking to a third person. "What the fuck did I tell you about being on a timetable, and about leaving the ones not on the list alone? You want a girl, I'm sure the doc can arrange for you to play with one of the ones we're bringing along after he's done with 'em. Now pull her shirt back down, and get back to fucking work! Row D, we got three. Seats 9, 13, and 22."
Oh, god. They're kidnapping us. They're creepy pervert rapists, and they're kidnapping us, and I can't move. I can't run, I can't fight, I don't even feel any adrenalin kicking in. I'm just sitting here drooling in my seat while two or three guys drag us off to some weird doctor who's going to do something to us, and I don't know what, but--
But I can start to piece it together. Because I remember filling in some forms, now, some stuff they said they needed to get a good idea of who the best marketing demographic was for the movie. It seemed kind of involved, but they kept kind of hinting that this was a big movie, and that we'd have total bragging rights to all our friends if we saw it before everyone else did, and so I went ahead and wrote down everything they wanted to.
And then they assigned us to seats after they took the forms away, and I was in...in...shit! I can't remember what seat I'm in! I can remember sitting down, and the lights going out, and then...and then...
And then the movie started. I remember that the credits sequence was neat. Really neat. It had this cool techno music, and it was this mass of swirling lights that kept resolving themselves into words, but there were always more colors behind every word so they were kind of hard to read, but that was okay because it seemed like there was always another word coming along when I missed one. It didn't seem to matter what the words said, it was just important to keep reading them and watching the colors and listening to the music.
And that felt really nice, after a while. It just felt like my chair got more comfortable with every second, like I was floating inside the screen and it just seemed to fill my whole world the way that a really good movie can. It was just so captivating, so nice, and I just couldn't look away and I didn't want to look away and I felt myself getting all wet and I realized that the movie was getting me hot, but it was this weird, passive kind of arousal that just made me want to drift into it more and think less and...
And I know that if these guys drag me away, they'll show it to me again. They'll probably show me something else, too, something that makes me want to "play" with them. This doctor guy they work for, he's made something that hypnotizes people.
Maybe I'll be able to resist. These guys are talking like they don't think anyone can hear them. I don't think I'm supposed to be awake enough to realize what's happening. Even if I can't move, I've already fought this thing better than I should.
"Seat 15, not Seat 17!" Leader shouts. "Jesus, you want to grab some housewife whose husband is gonna call the police or something? Yeah, fuck you too, Lenny."
I try to remember what I put down on those demographic forms. Probably nothing that would make them think someone was going to miss me. I'm new in town, I live alone, and girls drop out of college all the time. I didn't tell anyone I was going to be here. By the time Mom and Dad get around to wondering why I haven't called them in a few weeks, there'll be nothing to lead them back to the movie theater at the mall, and me? I'll be off somewhere, staring into swirling lights until my brain melts into tapioca pudding. I feel a sick certainty in my gut that whatever went wrong and caused me to wake up, the doctor can correct it if I have his full attention.
I have to move, I know I do. I have to get out of here. These guys aren't expecting anyone to get up, they don't even think we can hear them. If I can just shake this off and make a break for it, I can get out into the lobby before they can stop me, and then I'm safe. (Or not. I suddenly realize I don't know how long I've been in here, I don't know whether there's anyone in the lobby or even in the mall. It could be midnight for all I know. I can't look at my watch.)
That just makes it more important that I snap out of this. I focus all my efforts on my eyes, trying just to blink once. If I can blink, then I can move. If I can move, I can run. If I can run, I can get away. I need to blink, that's all. I just need to blink.
