Act 1
The train was mostly full – it was rush hour, Thursday evening, so there was the usual crowd. I had a seat near the front of the car and was enforcing my private space by keeping my nose in a book. It was a romance novel, and when I read a spicy love scene, I could feel my body heating up. I felt uncomfortable about getting hot like that on the crowded train, so I closed the book and looked up.
I looked straight into the eyes of a guy sitting across the aisle from me on the train. As soon as my eyes met his, it was like a hot, wet washcloth wrapped around my brain. I don't know how else to describe it. There was a sensation of physical heat inside my head – not painful, but very, very warm. I dropped the book on the floor.
I had noticed him, briefly, when I first got on the train, because he was pretty good-looking. He was somewhat older than me – probably about forty – with dark hair that was starting to go gray. Also, unlike most of the commuters on the train he wasn't wearing office clothes. He had on worn old jeans, a long-sleeved shirt with a jacket over it, and scuffed work boots. He looked clean and presentable, but not like a man who worked in the financial district, as I and most of my fellow commuters did.
The eyes that met mine were a surprising, pale mineral green. As the sensation of heat penetrated my brain, I found that I couldn't look away from those green eyes. As I watched numbly, his pupils grew huge and black.
The train pulled into a station. I was still several stops away from home. He got up from his seat. Grasping the pole lightly for support as the train swayed to a stop, he looked down at me and said, "Follow me." And then, as the doors whooshed open, he turned around and walked off the train.
I got up and followed him.
It was the most bizarre sensation I've ever felt. As I followed him, my mind was yelling, "Are you crazy? What are you doing? Don't follow him!" And so on. But it didn't matter. No matter how my mind protested (and it did, vigorously), my body just wouldn't obey me. It obeyed him.
I think I would have trotted right behind him like a dog, but he glanced over his shoulder and said, "Walk here beside me, please." So I walked beside him. He added, "Stay right by my side. Don't say anything. I promise that you are safe. I'll explain everything soon."
We were not far from the convention center, and there were hotels all around. We crossed a brick courtyard and went into a large, expensive hotel. My fear and horror grew with every step. He walked straight up to the front desk, pulling his wallet out of a back pocket. He asked for a room for the night and dropped an American Express card on the counter.
I was in a state of total panic. I was terrified. Although I had followed him here without a struggle, my heart was racing with terror. I felt lightheaded and sick. I couldn't speak or run away, but I was so frightened I thought I might faint. As the desk clerk was processing his request for a room, he put an arm around my shoulders, hugged me close to him, and whispered in my ear, "Take five slow, deep breaths through your nose. Relax your shoulders and hands."
I took five deep breaths and relaxed my shoulders and hands. My feeling of lightheadedness and panic went away, although my fear remained undiminished. His arm around my shoulders was strong, his body warm and solid, but he didn't hug me intimately. I wanted to shrink away from him, but I couldn't. I looked at the girl behind the desk and thought, "Help me please!" But she didn't notice, of course. She smiled and handed him his receipt and a plastic key card. "Come with me," he said to me softly, and we walked together to the elevator, his arm still around me. We must have looked like a happy couple.
We were the only people in the elevator. As we went up I felt anger rise in me, pure fury. I clung to the anger because it was so much easier to bear than the awful fear. I looked at his reflection in the polished brass walls of the elevator and thought, You bastard. Fuck you.
He met my eyes in the mirrored wall and I suspected that he was well aware of what I was thinking. He said, "As you know, I'm controlling your body. But I promise you're safe. I will explain everything in the room, but I promise that no harm will come to you. You are safe."
I wanted to kill him.
We went into the room. It was nice – very large, with a view of the city. There was a mini bar, a large flat-screen TV on one wall, and a cozy conversation area with overstuffed chairs. The carpet was thick and cream-colored, absorbing our footsteps silently. And, of course, there a huge king-sized bed with carved wooden headboard and footboard, covered with a puffy down comforter. The sun was starting to go down, and golden light poured through the windows onto the bed. I just stared around me with disbelief. The whole situation was unreal.
The strange man got a bottle of spring water from the mini bar, opened it, and handed it to me, saying, "Take a small drink."
My mouth was dry with fear. I drank. Then he took the water from me, put it down on the bedside table, and told me to give him my jacket, which he hung up in the closet along with his own. "Sit on the bed," he said, so I perched there, knees together, hands on my thighs. He sat in a chair and bent forward, beginning to unlace his boots.
"Tell me your first name," he said.
"Michelle," I told him.
"Michelle," he repeated. "That's a nice name. I'll tell you what's going on now, okay?" I didn't answer. He hadn't told me to.
He looked so normal, even handsome, with his slightly rumpled weekend clothes and his soft dark hair.
"Obviously, I have the ability to control you," he said. He pulled off his boots and sat back in the chair, his arms on its rests. "I've taken control of your body; you can't resist me. I'm sorry for that – I know you're scared – but you don't have any choice, and neither do I. I'm in charge for the night, and there's nothing you can do about it, so try to relax. Okay? Is anyone waiting for you at home? Answer me truthfully."
