So the story doesn’t have a set title right now I’m calling it Alien Transformation, but I don’t think it will keep, I’m not very fond of it. I haven’t written what it’s about just this one scene that’s been forming in my head. and I’m getting exhausted so I’m going to call it a night. I thought I’d share and see what everyone thinks about it since my voices have me doubting it.
She let out a low pleasurable moan, I feel so relaxed. Tension swam through her body when she realized she was lying on a hard mattress covered in silk like sheets. Tasha sat up as her eyes flung open, this isn’t right, this is not right! She wanted say out loud but she was alone in the room; what would be the point? It was a simple room; the floor was some kind dark looking hardwood. The room was painted black with an accent wall behind the bed sort of a skewed chain-link fence; the chains were grayish and going every which way on the wall. She was only in a light sleeveless T-shirt and underwear.
For a second she began to relax as she stared at the design, letting eyes focus on the light but still noticeable pattern. She reached her hand up to touch it, the wall was cold to the touch and she pulled back shaking her head as she closed her eyes. The rest of the room was only decorated with a small six drawer chair high dresser and two doors one across from the other. Also in the room was a glass desk that appeared empty.
Where am I? Natasha Blair asked herself as she rubbed her wrists to keep herself from panicking. She got up expecting the floor to be cold like the walls but it was nicely warmed under her bare feet. With her left hand she rubbed under her ear, it felt as if something had moved under the ear. She opened the first door she saw, and it was an average sized closet, already filled with clothes. Tasha examined some of the clothes and thought they were too long to fit her, but they can’t be for me can they? Still she felt the need to dress herself and grabbed a pair of dark wash jeans and a solid black long sleeve t-shirt. She found a cute pair of black ankle high boots and quickly got dressed.
Her throat was dry and she felt another tingle against her ear, she hung the shirts and slacks she pulled out to look at back in their place and turned facing the other door, she walked the few paces to the door and it slid open, it was a full four piece bathroom, a tub, shower, toilet, and sink. The design imitated the modern design in the living room barely wasting any usable space. Compact, she thought, smaller than my apartment back home.
The way her mind phrased the question worried her, the last part most particularly, back home. Where am I? She asked herself again. She looked in her mirror above the sink the bathroom as she filled a small paper cup with water. She knew they probably weren’t meant to drink out of but her throat was so dry. The water was so cold and refreshing going down her throat easily; she took a couple more glasses of water.
I know this can’t be real, she tried to rationalize. I was at work on break. What happened? How did I get here, where is here? She took one more drink of water and looked at her reflection as if waiting for it to answer.
Her long wavy dark red hair the color of red wine was slightly messed from sleeping but not bad. She looked back at herself with her gray eyes that were paler than charcoal, but darker than cloud gray. Her reflection looked just as confused as she was…and shouldn’t it be? She wondered how crazy it would have been if her reflection actually spoke to her.
She found a hair tie in the cabinet and pulled her hair thick hair into a loose somewhat high ponytail. I’m not going to find any answers standing here staring at myself I need to find out what’s going on. I need to know if this is a dream, a hallucination…could I have been drugged somehow and kidnapped?
She wanted to almost laugh at the ridiculous thought of being kidnapped, I last remember being at work, who would kidnap me from there? She thought of her erotic romance novels and began to vision some billionaire taking her to live some wild fantasy of his, or hers, or both. “Like that would ever happen in reality,” she said to her reflection shaking her head, how silly and absurd!
She looked around her surroundings as she took another gulp of water. She didn’t think this some sick freak either because the room was perfect; it felt safe, not threatening a psycho wouldn’t put this much detail into a room for a victim. One more quick glass of water she wondered; why is my throat so dry? I wish I had my iPhone to take down notes to remember all these questions popping in her head.
After finding and tossing her cup into a bin she walked across the room to the only other door, which she assumed was the exit and to her surprise the door opened.