"Give me one. I don't need specifics such as date or time. Maybe if we record them all, we can put them in some proper order."
Thinking back, she pushed through the horrifying myriad of emotions and images, tugging at strands that led to specific thoughts until one in particular came to mind.
"The media is a bastard. Do you realize that? They glutton themselves on the cruelty of monsters; feed on the same fear and pain as the ones who directly cause it." She laughed, the sound more cynical than humorous. "And nine times out of ten, they're wrong."
Anger escaping her on a staggered breath, she lowered her forehead to her knees.
...drip...
"Tell me what you remember."
"I was forced to watch the news broadcasts about the abduction -"
"Forced?"
Looking at him, her eyes traced the worried line of his brow. "It's everywhere, you know? On every station. You can flip through the channels and get a different set of facts - all of them theories - none of them correct. Not really."
Ignoring the misdirection of her rambling, he led her back to the topic he wanted to discuss. "Who forced you?"
Swallowing past the knot of fear that clogged her throat proved difficult. For all the attempts, she gained nothing but aching fire in the sensitive, parched flesh. There was nothing left to do but give up and let the knot choke her, give up like she’d done so many times already in her life.
"Who, Alice?"
Their eyes met when she glanced at him from behind a tangled curtain of unwashed hair.
"Everybody."
"Would you like something to drink?"
Calm, collected, even kind, the voice broke through the sticky film of darkness across Alice's senses.
A dream. It was just a dream.
She wanted to refuse, but her throat was as gritty as coarse sandpaper. "Depends on what you're offering."
Her candor took the stranger by surprise, if his silence was any true indication of his reaction.
"Water," he answered after a span of silent seconds. There was no inflection in his voice, no anger or loss of control in response to Alice's behavior.
Nodding her head in acceptance of the water proved difficult. Alice was sluggish and uncoordinated. But the jostled movement had been enough.
Chair legs scraped against the floor, the rhythmic thud of shoes against the ground announcing the man's approach. The joints in his knees clicked when he knelt down in front of her, betraying either his age or the length of time he'd been sitting motionless in the chair.
With a face masked in shadow thick enough to conceal his features, he held a plastic bottle of water between them.
Alice's efforts of accepting the bottle were thwarted by a weakness in her arms, a remnant of whatever drug she'd been given.
"I would have sworn it would only take a few hours for you to recover." His head angled to the side, the length of his dark hair brushing his shoulder. "Apparently not."
"Max," she muttered.
His face was still concealed behind shadow, but she recognized the hair. She'd admired it when they met, but lost track until now.
How had she gotten here? Where was here? And why was he with her?
Reality crashed into the nightmare. Worlds colliding for no understood reason.
Maybe it wasn't a dream, after all.
"Are we in the Vic-" Her words felt scrambled, but she forced the question. "The Vic-" Shaking her head slowly, she had to get the question out. "The house I'm selling?"
"No," was his simple answer.
"Then where?" Her throat closed on the question, her body coming to life as the drugs eased off, but still revolting into spasms, the muscles learning how to function as they once had.
"You walked through a door, Alice."
Settling himself on the concrete at her feet, he studied her silently before adding, "and now you're here."
After uncapping the bottle, he grabbed her chin, sliding his thumb along her bottom lip before pulling her mouth open. The lip of the bottle met her mouth, tilting up to pour cool water over her tongue as he said, "Swallow."
Alice didn't trust the contents of the bottle, but the liquid slid down her throat anyway, a soothing balm against the burning flesh, and she swallowed fervently, greedily, until only a few drops were left.
Pulling it from her lips, Max recapped it and tossed it to the side, the plastic ricocheting off a wall that only existed in Alice's peripheral vision.
Her head fell back against a wall, a thick blanket of silence sliding between them until his smooth, deep voice broke it apart completely.
"I have something I'm going to show you." He paused, looking Alice over with a critical eye. "You can't walk. I'm going to carry you."
Terror should have filled her, but familiarity had bred acceptance. She knew this man. He'd presented as someone she'd easily converse with in a public setting. One that, despite the disfiguring scar, would be pulled into the fold of the respectable and admired.
This was not the type of monster that lurked in the shadowy realm of her dreams.
"Did I fall?"