aka The Frazzled Mom
“I feel strangely…strange. Doctor Strange.” Karl chuckled as he fumbled to turn off the television.
Hearing the door open as the girl left, Karl made a beeline, taking in a deep sigh when he fell back onto the bed. The last thing he remembered was his vision blurring to darkness and the warming sensation of exhaustion spread over his body.
He gasped, his nightmare startling himself awake. What had he been dreaming about? He thought for a moment, but the memory of it quickly faded. In the darkened room he heard a familiar sound—that of his stomach growling in protest. Taking in a cleansing breath, he wrinkled his nose at the smell. It was like a mixture of burning rubber, french fries and sour milk. Karl sat up to call front desk and give them the riot act.
“What the hell!” Karl said, realizing his wrists were bound by cable ties.
Questions came to mind, one right after the other. Was he really that drunk last night? Did that girl end up staying with him? What had they gotten up to? He’d never experimented with bondage before…
As he sat up to clear his thoughts, his head smacked something hard. Gingerly checking his forehead, he felt a small gash that had begun to bleed. With a curse, he reached out before trying to sit up. He hadn’t realized the headboard was so close. What his fingers grazed wasn’t wood, but metal. He pressed directly above—definitely metal. He tried to either side—metal again. He began to fear he’d been buried alive, in a wide metal coffin. A slight twinge of offense flashed at the thought. He may have gained a little weight, but not enough to warrant an extra-large box. Underneath the blanket he was lying on, it felt like cheap, rough carpet. Perhaps it wasn’t a coffin after all. He couldn’t recall what typically lined one.
Karl blinked, but the darkness wouldn’t resolve into shadowy shapes. He couldn’t see a thing. He moved about, but was restricted by similar binding around his ankles. Where was he? Karl attempted to push on his foil, but nothing would give. To his right, he ran his fingers horizontally until he felt tape instead of metal. Ripping it off, he could see faint light through the seams. When he hit with his fist, or his foot, the sound gave him a solid clue. He was in a car, or rather, in the trunk of a car. Panic welled up inside. He began to thrash and scream.