Free Coffee by gren blackall

for who knows how long,
around men of obviously vile intentions. She pulled aside the gown
and reached between her legs, probing with two fingers. No
soreness. No odd secretions. She looked and saw no unusual
redness. At least one positive.
    Finally
she was able to get off the bed. The crying cleared her mind, and
the pounding subsided slightly. She tried the door. Locked from
the outside, only a push button combination lock on her side. To
its left, a small intercom with a call button. She pushed the
button, and started yelling.
    “Hey!
Let me out of here! God damn it, let me out right now!” She
jabbed the button hard again and again. “Let me out!”
The yelling caused another wave of head pounding. She turned around
and leaned back against the door, holding her head.
    When
she opened her eyes again, she spotted the travel bag under the bed.
She would never have guessed her battered bag would bring such joy.
She ran and hugged it, while unzipping the side. Jeans. A soft
cotton shirt, her shirt. Warm socks. She ripped off the Johnny and
quickly dressed in as many layers as she could, wanting as thick a
barrier as possible between her and this alien world. No shoes
though. No wallet. No keys. Nothing sharp. They did allow her
one hairbrush, but she threw that roughly back into the bag with no
intention of sprucing up.
    She
looked to see the time. “You took my watch! You bastards! You
stole my watch!” she yelled into the empty room. A final blow,
her most precious possession gone. She felt violated, robbed,
crushed, demoralized.
    She
heard rumblings outside the door. Some voices, and someone punching
numbers on the combination lock. The door opened. Etty tensed
every muscle, and fantasized about jumping out and grabbing whomever
entered.
    Bart
Maslow waltzed in, cheerily carrying a tray of oatmeal and dry
toast. “Good morning, Miss Bishop. I see you changed out of
the cute Johnny.”
    Etty
flushed with anger, but kept still, knowing she was no match for
this bulky adversary. She hissed, “You bastard! You tricked
me! What have you done! Look at me, you’ve stuck me with
needles, stolen my things, thrown me into a prison! You’ve
kidnapped me!”
    “Little
cranky this morning?” Bart laid the tray on the short shelf
next to the bed. “No need to use up your energy on things you
can’t control. I think you’ll agree that we call the
shots now, okay? Let’s make this as easy as possible.”
Two additional men followed him into the room, both wearing white
orderly garb, looking equally formidable.
    Etty
reached over, scooping her hand into the hot oatmeal, and winged it
toward Bart’s face. A few clumps stuck to his cheeks while
the rest sprayed his shirt. “Ohhhh, still hot.” He
calmly wiped his face with a napkin from the tray. He stopped the
others from approaching. “She’ll be fine. I’ll
take care of this.”
    He
sat on the bed, and helped himself to a piece of the toast. “You
have now just used up your last chance. I expected something like
this, Etty, may I call you Etty?”
    “Fuck
you.”
    “‘Etty’
it is then. Given the circumstances, I allowed you an outburst.
But now, Etty, it’s time to clean up your act. I will be back
in less than an hour with some people who want to meet you. Be
friendly, pleasant, and answer all their questions. These people
want to be your friends, really. You were invited here to help them.
If they didn’t like you, believe me, you’d be dead
already.”
    Etty
was about to lash out again with venomous words when Bart caught her
small neck in his thick hand. He pushed her back on the bed, and
bent down with his head inches away from hers. He leaned all his
hefty weight into her neck. “Did you hear me? No more
chances.” Etty could not speak or breath, he had cut off her
air completely. “You play along with us, or you’re a
dead little bitch, you get it?”
    The
pressure prevented even a nod. No air could pass her throat. “You
get it?” He waited