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    'Where am I' I thought as I looked around the dark room.  I peered down at the wooden chair I was in, to see the cold chains tightly gripped around my pale wrists.  I struggled to move.  'Damn these things' I mentally yelled.

    Footsteps drew near, echoing though the dark room.  Each step louder than the last. Shattering the silence, like glass.  Millions of pieces of the once known quiet fall to the floor. 

    "Hello my dear.  I see you are awake" the man said.  I couldn't see him, due to the poor lighting of the room, but I could tell he had a devilish grin plastered on his lips.  "How are you feeling?" I didn't respond, "More powerful, may I suggest?"

    "What do you want with me?" I shouted.

    "Naughty girl.  You shouldn't speak to me in that tone."

    "Hmph" I sounded.

    "I bet your memories of last night are still a haze." the man said as he stepped into the light, just enough for me to see his red eyes that tears one's soul into shreds with the slightest glance.  A glare coming off of a syringe filled high with a translucent  steel coloured liquid, was clutched in his right hand.  Scissors in his left. 

    "W-what are you going to do w-with th-those?" I asked with a quivering voice.

    "Oh," he smiled, a sweet smile, one that the devil would show to trick his victim into a false sense of security, "no need to worry about that, my dear."

    "Stop saying that!"

    "What?"

    "Stop calling me 'my dear'!  I-I don't even know you!"

    The man came closer, holding the syringe close to my neck, the needle just hovering over my skin.  "Sweetie, you're strapped to a chair in my warehouse in the middle of nowhere.  What I call you is the least of your worries."  The man then pierced my neck with the sharp object.  Liquid quickly flooding my vein, and merging with my blood.  The pain was excruciating.  Every inch of me was in pain, a burning sensation traveling alongside my bloodstream, and every inch of the room faded to pitch.

    "Sweet dreams my dear."