Bump. Bump. Bump.
Another corner, another chance to bump against the walls of the van. I couldn't prepare for it, having a bag on your head makes it hard to tell when to brace yourself, and the handcuffs weren't helping either. This wasn't your average road trip game of "Corners" with your siblings in the back seat.
A little while ago I was walking down along 5th Avenue, ready to begin another day of protecting women from their husbands. And their new wives. No matter who came in, C.E.Os, politicians, even fellow lawyers, they always seemed to be infatuated by a dainty blonde with more tits than brains. The strangest thing was, their wives were strong, successful and often quite attractive. I don't think I will ever understand men and what it's like to let your hormones dictate your future.
The van pulled up to a stop, gravel crunching underneath the tires as I rolled towards the front seat. This was far from my first rodeo, so I knew to keep my ears open and my body compliant. The sliding door was pulled open and in moments hands hoisted me from the floor of the van and to my feet. My sensible flats allowed me to keep pace with my assailants as they pulled me ever forward. After my first kidnapping, I learnt to sacrifice fashion for shoes that I could actually run in, and I took that to heart. I didn't dress "pretty", I dressed ready for anything. The ground shifted from gravel to a smooth surface and the morning breeze died away as we entered what I could only assume was a warehouse. So cliche. The hands holding me upright suddenly disappeared, catching me off guard and sending my body stumbling forward.
"Don't move." A modulated voice crackled from behind me. There went any hope of identifying those who did the snatching. "Stay here and the Doctor will see you in a minute."
Doctor? Why on Earth would kidnappers need me to see a doctor? This was getting stranger and stranger by the minute, and my every instinct was slowly turning to panic. Fortunately I didn't get a chance to start screaming, as the bag was swiftly taken off my head. The bright lights of the room and the clean white walls didn't help my attempts at orientation, but I guessed that was the point. My shoulder length brown hair tumbled from the bag, around my eyes, providing some respite.
"Please, sit." The man, whom I assumed to be the doctor, moved a chair behind me. I was quick to sit down, not wanting to push my luck. My eyes began to focus, and I was able to get my first clear look at the first face I had seen since my ordeal started. He was surprisingly young, I doubted he was anywhere north of mid thirties. He was remarkably handsome, with shoulder length brown hair and light blue eyes, pools of colour one could easily fall into if they weren't careful. They regarded me closely as my own eyes looked back at them, almost as if he was sizing me up for something...
"Hayley Richards, thirty years of age, profession... divorce lawyer, oooh..." The doctor had pulled out a tablet computer and had begun to read the file... my file... aloud. "That answers a lot. Well, Miss Richards, you have been selected."
I scoffed loudly. "Selected? Selected for what, being witness to a group of people committing numerous felonies, including assault and kidnapping?" I spoke the last words with all the force I could muster as a lawyer, but all my captor could do was chuckle.
"Oh no, Miss Richards. You have been selected to be a part of an amazing scientific study, unlike anything the world has ever seen... Have you heard of neuroplasticity?"
I blinked several times. "No, I haven't."
"Neuroplasticity is a term referring to what the brain does when it encounters... life. Synapses flash, neural pathways are built and crumble back to nothingness... The brain is forever changing, in ways we haven't been able to track. Well, hopefully, until now."
"What does this have to do with me?" I looked to the doctor with a fearful expression slowly emerging.
"You are my test subject. Not the first, as you may have seen come through your office lately." He clapped his hands together and pulled a medical trolley to his side. Sitting upon it was a weird piece of jewellery, akin to a tiara that you would see in old fairy tales. He took the tiara and placed it on my head, despite my attempts at squirming away or knocking it to the floor. The metal was cold against my head, but I didn't... feel... any different. Not yet, at least.
