When I pulled up to the driveway of the house way back up on the top of the hill, none of the lights were on. I got out of my car and before I could press the button on the remote to lock it, I was hit with the chloroform and out in a matter of seconds. The last thing I remember before waking up was the feeling of the February air coming through that cloth as I sucked in the chilled chemicals.

It was a punch to the back of my already aching head that brought consciousness with it, though I might as well have still been out, for all the light there was to see. None, in other words. The room was pitch black and I could feel the zip line tight around my wrists and ankles before I even tried to move them. Ball gag in my mouth. I tried to scoot my chair in one direction or another, forward, wherever that was, and met with another fist, this one from the side, at my jaw. No one spoke. I started to cry.

Then I heard it.

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