Dan left his house. He was dressed in his black shirt and black jeans, and was on his way to Waitrose, which was about two blocks away. He did this three times a week, his normal fill-up-the-fridge-before-I-starve shopping. As he turned the corner of the first block, he heard the screeching of car tyres. Turning his head, he saw two men behind him. Before he could react, they reached out with a syringe and plunged it into the corner of his neck. *2 hours later* Blackness. And then, the smallest slit of light. This is what Dan saw as he regained consciousness, drowsy from whatever substance he had been drugged with, confused and disorientated. For a few moments, as his sight slowly came back to him, he stayed still. Then, remembering what had happened, he attempted to get up. He discovered he was slumped up against the cold, hard metal, tied by the hands and feet. He shook as the van swerved and turned, thrown about by what he assumed were portholes and curbs. "Keep still and quiet you." He heard, the voice coming from above him. He looked up to see one of the men who attacked him, looming over with a pissed look on his face. "I never said you could move, did I?" The 'you' was alike a child speaking to a worthless toy, or an owner to a misbehaved dog. Dan thought quickly about what he should do, but came to the conclusion that the best thing to do was to do as he was told to, until there was an easy escape. As the van swerved again, Dan saw, out of the corner of his eye, another syringe being thrusted towards his neck. Ignoring the previous instructions, he screamed as loud and as long as his lungs would let him. Blackness once again.