What the fuck?
I had no issue with people’s kinks, but being tied up wasn’t my cup of tea.
“Hello?” I tried to call out. My voice was strangely muted, barely a mumble behind the white cocoon that covered my mouth. “Is anyone out there?”
Panic struck me when no response came; only the low hum filled the silence.
Who in their right mind would leave a stranger alone in their room?
Yet if the stranger were in my position—tied up with no means of escape—then they would have no reason to worry.
What if the reason I couldn’t recall how I ended up here was more nefarious than I thought? I’d heard rumors of people luring unsuspecting victims to a secluded location to kidnap them, but I refused to believe that something so awful had happened to me.
Yet what else could explain my current situation?
Tears fell, soaking the material that bound me, as I attempted to call out again and tried to shimmy my arms up from my sides.
A series of unfamiliar voices replied.
I stilled, surprised by the sudden response. I was unable to comprehend the voices, and my covered ears didn’t help me to make out their words.
“Let me go, please!” I cried out as I jerked my body, trying to make my desperation known to whoever stood out there. “I’m begging you! Help me!”
Hands gripped my sides, stilling my movement. I froze, afraid I might accidentally injure those who had found me, whoever they were.
A deep voice rang out, its tone instantly calming me. I wasn’t sure what he said, but I was willing to believe that he was here to save me. I couldn’t consider there might be another reason why I was here. I refused to. Nightmares like this didn’t happen to people like me. There had to be a benign explanation for the situation I was in.
A ripping sound near my feet startled me. After a few moments, I could feel fresh air hit my legs. I wiggled them in joy, trying to convince myself that everything would be fine. Slowly, the tear in the fabric advanced along my body, releasing my legs. As the fabric was removed from beneath my thighs, I felt a cold, hard surface that sent shivers through me.
Where the hell was I? There was no possible reason why I would be tied down on a metallic surface. Unless . . .
Had they harvested my organs? I’d heard horror stories about people waking up strapped to a medical examination table in a foreign country, with half their organs sold on the black market for a hefty price.
Who the fuck had I pissed off?
The ripping sounds continued as hands tugged on the restraints around my arms. I tried to lift them and get a sense of my surroundings, but someone held them in place, preventing my search. It took all my willpower not to fight back, kicking and clawing myself free. There had to be a reason why he didn’t want me to move, and until I could see it for myself, I decided to stay put.
Something slid out from underneath me, and instantly, the bare parts of my back made contact with the cold, metallic surface below. Whatever had been wrapped around me, it definitely wasn’t a blanket like I’d first believed.
Another voice sounded, different from the first, yet clear enough for me to know he wasn’t speaking English.
Was he trying to explain to me why he was holding me down?
I was about to voice my concerns before something poked the center of my white mask. A gasp escaped my lips as a sharp object dug into my bindings, scratching my cheeks as it pried open the cover. I winced from the searing pain, causing the person who was freeing me to pause.
The three voices talked amongst each other. A third, lighter voice berated the others in a harsh tone.
I tried to reach for my head to finish removing the restraints from my face, but my wrists were still pinned, preventing me from raising my hands even an inch from the table. Their rescue was kind and all, but I wanted to see, and whatever they were bickering about wasn’t helping me at all. It was starting to scare me.
The bad guys in movies always argued over how they would accomplish evil plans together. Was that how villains acted in real life too? Had these foreign-sounding males been paid to abduct me? What were their plans for me?
“My parents are wealthy,” I sobbed, noticing with every gasp that the air was dry and stale, nothing like the coastal California wind that I was used to. Wherever I was, I was far from home. “They’d be willing to pay for my return . . . Just please don’t hurt me!”
A hand dug under the material that was blindfolding me, its nails too close to my eyes for comfort as it pried the remaining binds from my face. I closed my eyes in a weak attempt to protect them from the fingers digging into my cheeks.
“Ek la sluwma,” the deep voice said soothingly. The sound came from above my head; he must have been the one pulling off the white mask. “Ek la sluwma, sekhi.”
A soft fluttering noise joined the low hum that filled the room. A sense of calm fell upon me like a weighted blanket that held me down and comforted me through this stressful time. I knew deep down, the feeling didn’t make sense, but there was nothing I could do about it—any of it.
In the end, I was at these people’s mercy. However, a sliver of hope told me that by the way they were handling me, I didn’t need to fear them. The more rational part of my brain knew I shouldn’t trust them, at least until I could confirm that they weren’t the ones who had abducted me.
Suddenly, my head was jerked to the side as the binds were ripped away, tugging on my long hair. I gasped. My eyes snapped open as the hands around my wrists released their grip.
Tears continued to fall as I wiped at my face, blinking hard to clear my vision. Throbbing pain emanated from the roots of my hair as my falling tears made my raw cheeks sting.
Sitting up, I looked around, confused. I closed my eyes, then rubbed them with the palms of my hands, refusing to believe what I’d woken up to.
Three males surrounded me, dressed in attire that I wouldn’t have guessed my kidnappers would be wearing. Unless these men had also been kidnapped.
They were cosplayers like me, only with a larger costume budget. Their outfits were so intricate and lifelike that they must have been sponsored by a company or worked in the special visual effects department of a big production studio. Yet I couldn’t recall seeing another space fairy at the rave, and certainly not three.
If I had, they definitely would’ve made an impression.
I was impressed by the paint decorating their skin. Every inch of exposed skin was vividly colored, with no sign of fading or smudging. Their young, triangular faces made them look like KPOP stars—though there were stark differences as well. Their cheekbones were sharper, along with the striking point of their chins, and the tips of their ears were pointed like an elf’s.
Each male was equipped with four stained glass-like wings, which matched their coloring near the base before fading to lighter shades on the fluttering ends. Just like most of the men at the party, each was shirtless, but they wore black loincloths around their waists instead of the colored swim trunks I had seen on the partygoers.
The stunningly lifelike quality of every wing surprised me the most.They fluttered, opening and closing without pause. Only serious cosplayers would spend thousands of dollars on such machinery. The amount of work and dedication poured into these costumes was more than any average person could afford to spare.
I wondered why men like them would come to some summer music festival. It wasn’t like there had been any celebrities in attendance. Perhaps they were hired by the event’s organizers to entertain the guests.