A Tale of Faux Realities

Awakenings

Jonathan drove down the freeway, tonight was rainy, nonetheless busy, well, busy wouldn't give the traffic any justice. The car radio played in the background, the nearest local station blasted out unfitting 80s music for the weather, so he turned it down low to be a sort of white noise. The closest bar to him was half an hour away. He couldn't drink alone, it would make him feel like he was an alcoholic and that he couldn't justify, even the thought of drinking alone he couldn't stomach. It'd been 2 months since everything, the disappearance of his friends. William and Mark. They had a group together, well, a small one at that. The group looked into the government, local and nationwide, trying to tie anything to corruption and shady business preformed by such, from disappearances to conspiracy, anything would pass. If they'd ever manage tying evidence to it anyways.

Their sudden disappearances had a toll on Jonathan mentally, physically, socially, emotionally. They'd both disappeared in the very same bar he was about to go to, no evidence, no leads, no trace of them ever existing. Their records wiped as well. He couldn't help but feel anxious, ever since those fateful days he never rubbed off the feeling he was being watched. He felt someone, or something, had eyes on him 24/7. He didn't like it, not one bit. The only thing that made him feel safe was the black hoodie he wore, it was old and worn, but still comfortable and usable. It made him feel calm, collected, nice. Being in the comfort of his car calmed him down as well, it was small but cozy, and it was his. He felt in control of something for once, like he had a grip on fates threat and weaver it to his visage, it was a nice feeling, a feeling he didn't feel he should let go. Jonathan yawned, another day was done and now all that was left to do was drink and stumble his way home on the freeway, sounds like a fun night.
He pulled into the car park and parked his car, then got out of the car, took out his wallet and walked to the bar, that song from the radio was in his head, and he was quick to start humming the melody. He walked into the bar, the place was dim but tasteful in decor. The bar gleamed and shimmered with its shiny oak polish finish. He sat at the bar and waited. As he was a regular, the bartender knew exactly what to make him, a honey whiskey and coke with a fuck ton of vodka. It wasn't the most favorable combination or the most tasteful, but it did one thing, get you batshit blackout drunk.

He whisked his drink around out of boredom, ice clinking the sides of the glass. It wasn't working today, something was off. This was one of the only other places he felt safe, but today was different, today he felt like there were multiple eyes on his back. He swished the glass again, the reflection hitting the light and reflecting back onto the glass, then he saw it. Three people stared at his back from behind, while a fourth seemed to approach him. Jonathan told himself he was just overreacting and that this person just wanted to order a drink from the bar, is what he thought of course, until he felt a force from behind restrain him and put a wetted cloth over his mouth. Chloroform.

He flailed and struggled all he could, the bartender watching him like the others in the bar. Everyone stared as he tried to get out of it, but he was failing, and soon he began to slip into sweet sweet unconsciousness. He kicked around a few more times, before his eyes began to shut, his breaths slowed, his movements halted, then, darkness.