Set Alight

Chapter 21

Vlad Plasmius. The name means nothing to me. I don't fear it, don't hate it. I guess now I have something to call the guy.

The guy who just kidnapped me.

For the second time.

Ah, yes, he had to bug the one phone call that would ruin our "completely", "well thought out" "plan". It was really just an "identify him before kicking butt" kind of thing. Not really a plan. But doesn't matter now, because it's ruined.

Say whatever you want about the Phantom family's heroicness and amazing track record for defeating foes, we're impulsive and pretty darn foolish. And gullible. That too. I thought I was the exception because I was raised under a different name, but you can't escape your DNA. My trust in Danny's circus tent of funhouse mirrors and flawed logic led me to being attacked in my room.

Since I'm pretty sure I'm drugged, given the pounding in my head and the way colors are looking way too bright even though I think my eyes are closed, I should definitely try to remember what happened exactly...

So I was on a phone call, talking to Tucker. Then... there was an elbow locked around my neck, pulling me back, cutting off my cry. I struggled, and another hand squeezed my wrist until I dropped the phone. Then there was darkening around my vision, and I vaguely remember some kind of prick...

Definitely a drug.

I'm sitting, I realize slowly. My wrists are too tight to the armrests... Well, at least it's cushioned. I try to move my fingers, but it doesn't work. Is it the drug, or is it the lack of circulation?

Maybe they are moving and I'm just too disoriented to tell.

It doesn't matter! I need to figure out what's going on, and to do that, I need to get my eyes open. I can't exactly control my body, since everything appears to be numb, but I search for the heaviness of my eyelids and lock onto the feeling of weight.

Slowly and painfully, I force them open. It's difficult. I can't feel them barely at all, and even if it were stronger, I still have to get energy from my empty body and force them up. I daresay this is the most strenuous and draining activity I've ever had to participate in.

Finally, my eyelids are open, but my eyes are still unseeing. Everything is a multicolored blob, and I'm fairly certain my eyes are crossed. Pushing down the frustration, I focus on the clearest part of my vision, and slowly--ever so slowly-- the blobs take on lines and shapes.

Once the lines are only slightly fuzzy, I start roaming my eyes slowly around the room.

The colors I'd seen were mostly my drugged mind's imagination, I found, as the grays stretched into more grays on the wall. Green light filtered in through some kind of window behind me, judging on the pale green square of light on the floor in front of me that was only interrupted by my head.

That's it.

I can't move my head, but I realized vaguely that it isn't hanging; it's laying back on a headrest.

Time seems to stretch as I slowly gain feeling in the tips of my fingers and toes. It's probably shorter than I think, but right now, I'm suffering in the heavy silence that seems to stretch for hours. Ignoring the claustrophobia that rises as the quiet gets heavier and heavier, I focus on wiggling my fingers.

I slowly work on getting feeling back in my hands and feet, before an unseen door is thrust open. Toying with the idea on whether to feign sleep or not, I relax my tense muscles. Vlad'll know I'm awake. He doesn't have to know I'm mobile in my hands, feet and halfway up my legs and arms. It isn't much, but it's the only advantage I have. That, and that my hair was dyed black before leaving Danny's domain so Vlad doesn't know I know I'm a ghost.