A/N CSI belongs to CBS, blah, blah, blah...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Greg awoke and sat up, fully refreshed. His head felt fine and he was fully aware of his surroundings. It was rather dark, but he could tell that something had changed. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the relative darkness of the room, and what he saw left him momentarily confused. He was no longer in the trailer. He was in what seemed to be a log cabin, and a very nice one at that. But he didn't remember being moved. He came to the conclusion that he must have been out cold.
Upon discovering that he was not bound in any way, he approached one wall and found what appeared to be a light switch. He flicked it on and the room was flooded with light. He had to shield his eyes for a few seconds, until they readjusted.
When he reopened his eyes, he saw what appeared to be a large sitting room. The room was both welcoming and intimidating at the same time. The soft earth tones of the furniture and the lush carpet were warm and inviting, while the high log ceiling and enormous glass window demanded respect. The glass window, upon further inspection, was not actually a window, but rather a glass wall. Outside of this glass wall, he saw the same types of trees that he had seen earlier, the only difference being that it was evening rather than afternoon.
He continued to explore the room, looking for anything that he could use as a weapon. As furnished as the room was, there seemed to be nothing that he could use to defend himself. The room was lit entirely by a sole chandelier that hung from the high ceiling, so there were no lamps or glass within reach. The fireplace was sectioned off and out of reach, so he could not use a burning log, and there were no pokers that he could see.
After a few more minutes of exploring the room, he heard a door behind him softly open and close. He turned around to see a beautiful woman in a short form-fitting black cocktail dress. She was wearing black high heels that accentuated her long legs. Her hair was done up in a French twist with a few soft curls framing her face. She approached him slowly and confidently. Something about her looked familiar, but he couldn't place it. It finally came to him when she was within a few feet of where he was standing. This was the woman from the trailer.
"Do you remember me yet, Greg?" Greg shook his head, slowly. Something about the woman seemed eerily familiar, outside the fact that she was his kidnapper, but he couldn't place it. "Well, it has been a while, and I've changed a lot. I'll give you a hint." She turned away from him, displaying the low-cut back to her dress. In the center of her lower back was a small tattoo. Greg moved closer to her in order to get a better look at the tattoo. His fingers instinctively traced the small design. It was a small Erlenmeyer flask with red liquid in it and a small cloud of gas rolling out and over the top. He knew that tattoo. He had one just like it on his shoulder blade. He and his college girlfriend had gotten the tattoos together.
"Jenny." The name opened a long-locked gate holding back memories he had tried again and again to forget.