Blackout

Coming out of a blackout was always a pain. First one had to start with the recollection process. “What was I doing before?”. Paul had remembered a nightclub and various drinks. Beautiful women came up and sat on his lap and kissed his cheek. There was loud music and many bodies dancing and grinding against one another. But why had he blacked out. He was reasonably sure that he could hold his liquor as well as the best drunk. But, no, he remembered going to the bathroom and relieving himself, a sharp pain in his neck. Somebody had drugged him while he was taking a piss.
He tried to rub his face and get the sleep out of his eyes, he found that his arms were bound and he was unable to pull them apart. Sleep left his eyes and he was awake. He was aware and he saw that compression bandages had been wrapped down his arms all the way to the elbow. They were tight and he was unable to open his hands or even scratch the top of his head. The bandages were tight and constraining. What was worse was that when he looked down he could see that his whole body was restrained in these bandages. Everything except for his eyes and his upper right arm. He had been trouser up like a cast for a broken arm. Even his mouth. He tried to scream and shout but all that was heard was the panicked muffles of a trapped man. 
The room was echoing and a faint dripping could be heard somewhere far away to the right. Paul couldn’t be very sure, his eyes were blindfolded. He was cold and he was very sure that he had been stripped.
Paul lay still and thought that he could hear the faint sound of a low whistle coming up from behind him. Twisted Nerve, a favorite of all those that could whistle well.Though Paul could not see the man approaching from behind him, he could feel the villainous intent. The whistle paired with the faint clacking of boots on the concrete, Paul imagined the man to have a twisted grin to go along with the sound that he produced. The whistle stopped as the footsteps were now right behind him.
“Be calm, be calm, I am here now.” The husky voice said in a surprisingly soothing voice. He lifted the blindfold from Paul’s eyes. “And like the biblical story, Paul can see once again.”
 The man that drifted into view was big, enormously so. He had to be a full foot taller than Paul, and he was 5 ‘7. The man was muscular too, Paul thought that he must be at least 300 pounds of muscle and bone. What he wore was also of particular interest. The big man turned around and continued to talk.
“You know you never know who you will run into in a nightclub. Like me for instance I ran into a highly valued cardiologist and thought, what a lucky guy I am. I thought about introducing myself to you but then thought better of it. After all, what kind of self obsessed, padded bank account doctor wants to meet an orderly like me? None. I mean we work in the same hospital and I run a lot of his patients around and nary a kind word do I hear from them about you, Doctor Paul Givens. You are a scum that most of your patients hated from the word go. Well, I am here to exact justice for them. They have cried out in anguish from depleted wallets and bankruptcy that you should be dismissed!”
Paul stared at the man. He was sure that his eyes were bulging from sheer terror. He wanted to ask what he was going to do, but the gag continued to stop him from screaming.
“You have a rare blood type, did you know that? I’m sure you did. O negative. Very rare, very selfish. Don’t you even feel a bit remorseful that you are unable to help those that need your help all the time? O-Neg can be given to anybody and yet your donations sit at zero. That’s why I have taken it upon myself to take what you will not give.”
Paul felt a needle pierce his arm.
“Blood is often the oil of life. So I will extract it from you and give it to someone that really needs it and will cherish it better than you. Don’t worry Doctor Paul, I know several places that won’t ask too many questions, they will be happy that so many anonymous donors gave what they could.”
Paul tried again and again to break free, all while trying to scream and beat and unstick the needle, to no avail. The big man placed his hand on Paul’s shoulder and forced him to lie still.
Paul could feel his life being drained from him. All those years of medical school, a big house, a thick bank account, lines of credit, what did it all count for at this point in time?
“There is no point in resisting, Paul. There is nothing on this earth for you anymore.” The husky voice sounded far away and distant. Paul could feel his heartbeat get faint and slow. Should he struggle again? No, the question should have been could he? He felt all his strength leave him. He was cold and he felt no more.

===========================================

If you enjoyed this small story, check out this other one

Indifference – The In Constant Chronicles (thecomearound.com)