“There might be someone at this door,” I continued talking aloud. “She heard a noise, and she’s checking on it. She’s opening the door.”

That’s funny, no one there. I was sure I heard something. I guess I just imagined it. Oh well, I need to eat soon. I just took my insulin twenty minutes ago.

“There’s no one there.” I went on, “She thinks she must have imagined the noise.” I turned and walked back to the counter. “She’s a diabetic, and she has to eat something because she just took her insulin.”

“Yeah, we found it in the fridge,” Ben told me hesitantly, and I didn’t admonish him.

What?! What’s going on? Who’s there? STOP! Let me go! Don’t do that! Get that away from my face! What’s that smell? I’m gagging. Stop it!

I could feel her struggling as she was grabbed from behind, and I was forced to tense my own muscles to keep from lashing out in a mirrored response. A phantomlike, sickly sweet odor tickled my nostrils, urging me to drift off into sleep. I shook my head, fending off the woozy sensation. “Someone grabbed her from behind. She’s struggling, but he’s too strong. She smells something. He put something over her face. Chloroform or something…”

Dizzy. Sleepy. I’m falling. Falling.

“She’s blacking out,” I stated urgently.

Ouch! What was that? Something bit me on my arm. Did a mosquito get in here? No. It felt like a needle. Oh, I feel strange. What’s happening to me? Why does my head feel like this. I’m dizzy. Why is the room getting so dark?

“Pain,” I almost shouted. “Something on her arm. A bite? No, a needle. The bastard drugged her. Look at his face, Ariel! Dammit, look at his face!”

The sequence ended in a black fog, and I stumbled against the counter. I sensed Ben reaching for me uncertainly then pulling back, apparently remembering I had told him not to touch me if I tranced.