The Librarian s Voice Echoes Through An Dark Chamber

â€Å"Hello there, bitch,† the librarian’s voice echoes through an indistinct dark chamber. The man struggles against cold metallic restraints on a frigid metal table on which he now lies, â€Å"Are you comfortable, right now? I doubt it.† The man’s head is throbbing as if his heart had crawled into his skull then pulsed manically just under the skin of his temple. â€Å"Your wrists and ankles are chained, a ball gag in your mouth, you’re disoriented and scared, I imagine, wondering how you got here,† the familiar woman’s voice intones softly. The man struggles to recall how he got here, any sign or landmark that might indicate where he is, how he could get free, anything, at all. He thinks about his last memories. The man felt twinges of nervousness as the librarian sat next to him in the back seat of the Uber car she’d ordered. â€Å"So, uh, where are we going?† the man asked with flickers of excitement and unease. â€Å"You’ll see,† the librarian replied as she stared at the blur of city lights that passed by her passenger window. The Uber driver stoically veered the car up the ramp that led from the FDR to the Brooklyn Bridge then merged with traffic crossing the expanse over the East River. Then nothing. The dull glow of a video screen now flitters in the infinite darkness above the man’s head. He strains to move his head against the restraints to see the video. â€Å"I am going to tell you in detail why you’ve been kidnapped, what’s going to happen to you, and how long you’ll be here,†