“Ugh, my head.” I rubbed at my temple, blinking and trying to clear my vision.

  Wait, what happened? Where am I?

  I jerked my head up and scanned my surroundings, suddenly aware that I had no idea where I was. I tried standing, my shoes gone, but all my limbs were weak, like I had exercised them way too much. I tried again, legs wobbling as I got my feet under me.

  I was in an all-white room. The ceiling, floors, and walls were all a stark white. The walls and ceiling looked wavy, like someone had insulated the room on the outside of the walls with foam. The floor was covered in a thick white carpet the same shade as the walls.

  In the middle of the room was a metal chair, like one you might see at a café table. There was nothing else in the room.

  I turned toward the door, barely visible as a rectangle of white on one wall, but there was no handle. I stumbled over to it, my legs shaking as they tried to support my body weight. I pounded on the door with my fist.

  “Hello, is anybody there? Hello?!”

  Trapped, I was trapped! The room started feeling too small, too confining, as if the walls were moving in around me.

  I scrambled back to the chair, the one solid thing I could rely on in this sea of white. I sat on the floor behind it, leaning back against it. I was surprised that it didn’t move at all. I sat back up, turning towards the chair. I pulled on one of the legs. It didn’t budge. The chair was bolted to the floor. I didn’t know what to think about that, about any of it. I didn’t remember anything before this.

  No, that’s not true. I remember last night, I studied at Antun’s house. Then Michael took me home after.

  I looked down at my clothing. Shorts and a tank top.

  That’s right, I was going to the gym.

  I was walking to the gym and I thought I heard something, or maybe someone, down an alley. I wasn’t going to pay it any mind, but for some reason I started to follow the sound, the voice.

  It was a nice voice, a low and mellow baritone. I don’t know why I started following the voice, but I did. It was as if it was pulling me in, the dulcet tones guiding my steps. I was starting to feel a little hazy…

  That was all I could remember before this room. I searched my pockets, praying that I still had my phone. I didn’t. I ran back to the door as fast as my legs would allow, stumbling as I did so. I pounded on the door, over and over and over.

  “Hello?! Somebody, please! Hello?!”

  No answer. Was I going to be trapped here forever? I tried to take some calming breaths – that’s what all those therapists online say to do anyway.

  Please work, please help!

  I counted quietly to myself, breathing in for ten seconds then holding it for ten before letting it slowly go out. I did it again, trying to ground myself. There was certainly no way I’d figure anything out if I was panicking, as much as I wanted to sit down and cry.

  “Step away from the door.”

  I spun around, trying to identify where the voice came from. There, up in the ceiling was a speaker.

  “Step away from the door.”

  Even as I mentally fought my own legs, it was as if I were a puppet on a string, unable to move on my own.

  “Sit down on the chair.”

  I walked to the chair and did so, my body not my own even as my mind screamed no.

  The door opened, revealing a plain looking man. He had a tray of fruits, cheeses, and meats in his left hand and the right held the door handle. He set the tray down just inside the room.

  “Eat,” he said, the same voice as the one that came through the speakers. The same voice that I followed in the alley. The one that drew me in with its melodic croon.

  “Where am I? Who are you?” My voice shook. I needed something, anything. Please!

  “It matters not where you are nor who I am. You are my guest and as your host, I am providing some food for you.” He reached his arm outside the door, pulling it back to reveal a glass of water.

  I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until I saw that glass, the condensation dripping down the sides.

  He set the glass down on the tray. “Please. Eat, drink, make yourself at home here.”

  “Excuse me?” I was so confused.

  Guest? Host?

  “What’s going on?”

  The man looked at me, a gaze utterly dead and terrifying. “You are my guest. As such, I cannot harm you without causing harm to myself.” He grinned, “Yet.” He began to close the door.

  “Wait!” I cried. “Please, what’s happening?!”

  “I told you,” he said in that hypnotic voice of his, “You are my guest. Please, make yourself at home.” And he shut the door.

  I ran to the door, pounding with my fists and crying. Bang, bang, bang!

  “Please, please! Let me out! Let me go!” I kept banging on the door until my fists felt raw. My tears flowed as I begged. “Please, let me go…”

  I looked at the tray of food and the water that he had left, wondering if I should trust any of it. My stomach grumbled at the sight, giving me its opinion.

  I stared at the water before picking up the cold glass, the ice clinking on the sides. I sniffed at it, but there was nothing obvious I could smell. I carefully stuck my tongue into the water before retracting it and tasting in my mouth.

  That little bit of water wetted my dry mouth, convincing me to drink. I tried to sip it slowly, not wanting to gulp it down and hurt my stomach. My head started to clear as my body began to feel somewhat more hydrated.

  For now, I needed to survive. I could find a way out as long as I was alive.

  I took the tray over to the chair and set it on the seat, sitting on the floor next to it. I ate the food slowly, trying to listen to my body’s cues so I wouldn’t get a cramp from overeating. I ate half of the platter.

  When was the last time I ate? How long have I been in here anyway? Was I just barely kidnapped or have I been out of it for a while?

  With no way to answer those questions, I explored the room, hoping to find a way out. The walls seemed to have some kind of foam on them, like you’d see in a soundproofing booth except stark white instead of the typical grey.

  All of the walls and even the back of the door was covered in bumpy foam, though the foam on the back of the door was now deformed from where I had pounded over and over.

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  I looked at the ceiling. It looked like the same foam had been used up there too, with a round cutout for the lone speaker.

  I went over to the door, examining the edges, seeing if there was any way I could pry it open. But with tight seams, there was no way I would even be able to get a paper through if I’d had one.

  I padded over the soft floor, setting the tray by the door in case the man came back to collect it.

  Maybe I could overpower him with the element of surprise. I was fast, I ran on the treadmill almost every time I went to the gym. I curled my toes over the carpet, testing for grip with my bare feet. It felt like I would have quite a bit of traction in my favor if given the opportunity.

  “Return to the chair,” the speaker said, the voice too calm.

  I did so, attempting to look scared. It didn’t take much effort, I was scared. Terrified, really.

  I heard the lock on the door before it swung open on silent hinges. The man stood there, one hand on the handle, the other relaxing in a side pocket of his slacks. The man seemed bored, as if he didn’t want to come here at all.

  He bent down for the tray and I bolted from my seat, aiming for the open door. A frozen hand wrapped around my throat and rammed me into the solid side of the door.

  “Not a very smart idea, Ms. Nelson.”

  What the hell?! He knows my name!

  My eyes bulged, my chest locked tight. I couldn’t breathe! I could feel the blood in my head pounding, knew my face was going from red towards purple. The edges of my vision tunneled, darkness taking over. I didn’t want to die!

  “You are to stay in this room until you are required. You’ve not been summoned, so you must remain.”

  My voice squeaked, attempting to say anything but nothing would come out.

  He threw me by the throat into the room, the carpet burning under my skin as I slid across the floor.

  I gasped for air, my vision slowly clearing.

  “I suggest, Ms. Nelson, that you don’t try anything like that again. Do you understand?”

  I stared at him in horror, my hand massaging my throat. If I was terrified before, I didn’t know what to call this level of fear.

  He bent down for the tray, not bothering to look at me again, knowing that I wouldn’t try anything again right now. He gave me one more blank stare before closing the door; it locked with an automatic click.

  I began to cry again then, feeling so alone and hopeless. I curled my knees to my chest, hugging them and bowing my head. The tears felt cool against my face, still hot from having been strangled.

  I cried until there was nothing left but the occasional whimper. I attempted to uncurl my body, stiff from being in that position for so long.

  I went over to the chair, examining it. The nuts that helped hold the chairs in place were exposed.

  An idea came to mind.

  I sat down on the floor next to the chair, my arms falling limply to my sides, exhausted. One hand just so happened to be right next to one of the chair legs. Though I hadn’t noticed a camera, I wasn’t going to put it past him.

  Using my fingers, I tested the bolt. Tight. I tried again, using all the force my fingers could muster. If I could just unbolt this chair, then I’d at least have something to use the next time the man came in.

  How did he know my name? Has he been watching me? Did he steal my ID? Did I have my ID? Does he have my phone?

  I gave up on the bolt, my fingers raw from the attempts. I’d try again in a little bit. For now, my eyes were beginning to droop. The adrenaline rush had come down and I was beginning to crash. The pressure in my head from being strangled made my head pound.

  I moved to sit behind the chair, so at least it would be between me and the door. My limbs felt heavy, my eyes dry. I yawned, covering my mouth with my hand.

  Was there something in that food? Or am I just this tired?

  It didn’t matter either way right now, there was nowhere for me to go. I blinked slowly, the room beginning to darken again in my vision. I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore, so I stopped fighting it.

  ? ?? ?

  Michael paced outside of Drew’s apartment, waiting for her to open the door. She wasn’t responding to any of his texts or calls, had not even read them, so he had walked over to her apartment to see if she was alright.

  There was no sound in the apartment as far as his advanced hearing could tell. He tried the doorknob, hoping that he could just go in but knowing that she probably locked it. Like always, she had.

  He knocked again. A hiss from Husker, but no other sounds from the apartment.

  He pulled out his phone, calling Antun. He picked up on the second ring.

  “Michael! What is up, my man?” Antun greeted him in a cheerful tone.

  “I can’t get a hold of Drew. She hasn’t been responding to texts or answering her phone, and she’s not at home.” Michael’s tone was desperate.

  “Hey, take a beat! Are you sure that Drew is in trouble?”

  Lately, she had been especially prompt in her responses to Michael’s messages. Texting her was like having a conversation in real time for how quickly she’d reply at times.

  “I’m sure, Antun. Something is wrong, I can feel it.”

  His heart was in his stomach, sitting heavy as a lead block. The hand holding his phone began to shake, he used the other hand to brace it against his face.

  “Antun, what do we do? It hasn’t been long enough for the police to accept a missing person’s report. She could be in serious trouble!”

  Antun was silent on the other end. Then he said, in a much more serious voice, “I’ll meet you at her apartment. I’ll pick her lock so we can check it. Maybe there’s something in there that could help us find her.”

  Michael took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’ll see you when you get here. How close are you?”

  “I’m in the city, it won’t take me long to get there. Send me the address.”

  “Alright. See you when you get here.” Michael hung up, sharing his location, then putting his phone back in his pocket. A hand scrubbed over his face in frustration and concern. He ground his teeth.

  Please be okay, Drew. Please.

  ? ?? ?

  “There doesn't appear to be anything out of place.” Antun spun in a circle, looking around the apartment.

  Husker was peeking behind the bedroom door, hackles raised and growling low.

  Michael checked the kitchen. Everything seemed normal. He noticed the cat food bowl was empty. He looked around, searching until he found a container of food in the corner by the washing machine. He scooped a little of the kibble into the bowl. It clattered as it hit the bottom of the dish.

  Husker meowed as if he wanted to go to his food but he didn’t want to be anywhere near the vampires.

  Michael left the kitchen, keeping an eye on Husker as Husker kept his eye on Michael.

  Husker slowly creeped around the door, staying right next to it, his body low to the ground. Then he sprinted for the kitchen, staying low and trying to be as invisible as possible to the two predators in the place.

  Antun completely ignored the feline.

  Michael was starting to feel more desperate. “What should we do now? Just keep calling and texting and hoping that she’ll answer?”

  “I don’t know what else we can do,” Antun said, his shoulders shrugging. “I want to do more but I can’t think of anything.”

  Michael sighed, picking up a flannel shirt Drew had left on the back of one of her dining chairs. It smelled of her – a faint, floral scent, like violets.

  A thought struck Michael out of the rare blue Seattle sky. “Antun! We have super senses!”

  Antun looked at him blankly. “Yeah, what about them?”

  He held up the shirt. “What if we tried to track her? We can grab her scent from here and then follow it like bloodhounds.”

  Antun looked skeptical. “You do realize there are tons of other smells to contend with once we’d go outside? It won’t be easy.”

  Michael shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. We’ll bring this with us,” he lifted the flannel, “Then we can recalibrate our noses as needed.”

  Antun looked skeptical but nodded firmly. “Alright, we can try it. With two super noses, we should have an advantage.”

  Husker growled from the kitchen.

  Both men looked in that direction.

  “If this goes on longer than today, I’ll take care of her cat.” Michael said, “He doesn’t like either of us but he has seen me more times than you.”

  He prayed they’d find Drew quickly. He didn’t want to torture the poor creature.

  Drew, where are you?

  Attempting to track a smell without looking like a freak was challenging. Both Michael and Antun followed the trail of Drew’s smell, faint and growing fainter by the moment. They fought the smells of the city as they traced Drew’s path.

  The sense of urgency made the men walk quickly, often passing others going in the same direction. Michael lifted the flannel to his nose, breathing deeply, trying to breathe as much of Drew’s scent as possible. Violets, just like at home Michael thought again as he tried not to freak out.

  They continued on. “I think she was heading to the gym, that’s what’s in this direction.” Indeed, the trail seemed to go towards the gym she preferred.

  The smell suddenly changed direction less than a block away from it, veering into an alley. Michael looked to Antun who nodded, and they followed the trail.

  They went down the alley, fighting with the smell of wet garbage to follow where Drew went. Without warning, Drew’s scent just… disappeared.

  Michael spun frantically, trying to find it again, but it was gone. He growled in frustration.

  “Hey, we’ll figure out what happened, alright? Once it’s been 24 hours, we can report her missing to the police.”

  That’s not good enough, thought Michael.

  There had to be something he could do! He tried to listen for her mind, closing his eyes and concentrating. It was faint, but he was sure he could hear her.

  “Antun, try to listen with your mind for Drew. I think I hear her.”

  Antun closed his eyes, concentrating. A minute later, he shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t hear her. Maybe you’ve fed more recently than I?”

  Michael took a moment to think. “What if we try to follow her mind, using what I can hear? She’s faint but I promise I am hearing her, Antun. She’s so scared, she’s somewhere white I think.”

  Only the briefest of pauses before Antun declared, “I believe you,” his face determined.

  “Then let’s keep going. Maybe we can get closer to her at least,” Michael suggested. Antun nodded, and they continued on their search.

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