𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 || 𝐁𝐁𝐂 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

26: Hypnosis

I hadn't seen a case of hypnosis in a long time. And not one this complex. The man did not indicate that his actions were out of the ordinary.

To be hypnotised and completely under someone's control, a person would have to have a weak mind, to begin with. Some could train themselves for years to protect their minds from such a potent force, as I had.

This man was not so lucky, his consciousness separated from the person controlling him.

The man was looking at me expectantly as if waiting for something.

All of a sudden, I heard a faint whistling sound. Distracted, I turned just in time to feel a sharp prick in my neck.

Wincing, I pulled out what appeared to be a dart coated in a translucent liquid.

"You should feel it kicking in any second now," the man said, just as I felt my vision blur, all feeling seeping out of my body as I sank onto the cold wooden floor.

I lay there, panting in exertion.

I couldn't feel my arms. Or my legs.

"Who are you? Or rather, who's speaking through you," I said breathlessly, the very act of speaking taking up what little energy I could muster. Whatever that drug was, it was potent stuff. I doubted it was fatal, but that could mean something worse was in store.

The man strolled up to me, using his foot to turn me on my back.

"I'll ask you again. Do you feel guilty yet?"

I was confused. Whoever lured me here clearly had a vendetta against me, but such an elaborate set-up? this was more than something like a grudge. the only problem was that I had no idea who it was and what the hell this man was talking about.

"Who are you? I demanded, struggling to do so much as prop myself up with my hands. The man frowned.

"I'm the one who gave you that envelope, remember?" he said blankly, clearly relaying pre-programmed information meant to be triggered by certain questioning.

"What envelope-" I trailed off as my mouth dried, remembering what envelope he was referring to.

The envelope that contained the message telling me that my brother was alive.

I felt my vision dim at whatever someone had struck me with, the full effects of the drug hitting me like a brick.

My vision went black as I lost consciousness.

***

I must have blacked out for the most part, because I woke up tied to a chair. The sun was low in the sky, meaning I had been unconscious for several hours.

I was tied tightly to a chair. I was still in the warehouse, the only difference being a strong smell of gasoline in the air and an envelope on the floor in front of me. The man stood behind it as if guarding the scene.

I attempted to roll my shoulders, trying to regain feeling in my limps. Thankfully, my fingers began to twitch, signalling the weakening effects of the tranquilliser.

However, when I tested the ropes, I found that I couldn't wrestle out of them, or even try to untie them the way I was taught. I was still too weak from the lingering effects of the drug.

"Why did you call me here?" I asked, wincing as I felt the dryness of my throat, suddenly desperate for a glass of water.

"I called you here to ask you that question, and give you an opportunity."

"What opportunity?" I asked suspiciously, leaning back into the chair once I realised I couldn't escape.

"The opportunity to meet your brother again."