Move away, you have evidence to gather...

You pull back and squeeze your eyes shut. After a moment the nausea fades, leaving a behind a persistent dizziness. You wearily avoid looking at the screen as you continue to survey the room. Other than the usual grime that comes with old concrete flooring the place is completely empty, not so much as a light switch. In fact, a dark fabric seems to have been draped over the walls to add to the darkness. Behind the couch you can see the outline of a door peeking out from under the drapes. You want to help these girls ... but you can't drag two unresponsive adults back to your car without being spotted. You'll call the police instead ... As soon as you get your evidence.

You get some good shots of the girls, staring blankly into the light (though that was hardly proof of human trafficking), and you snap a video of the screen with your phone to analyze later. You always feel better after you'd gotten photographic proof, like you'd validated the experience somehow. But this time it's not enough. Damn. You'll have to keep looking. You glance at the slack-jawed girls and their disproportionately large headphones. Or ... I could grab some hard evidence.

With a little effort (the headphones were actually belted under their jaws like real helmets) you manage to remove the headphones from one of the girls. You watch intently for some spark of consciousness. Instead, the girls eyes roll up into her head and she passes out onto her friend. You check her vitals. Stable. Hm. Well it's better than staring at that screen. You grab the second set of headphones, if only to release their hold on the other girl. Likewise she flops back onto the couch, somehow even more insensate than she was a moment ago. Stuffing the massive headphones into your bag you carefully make your way to the poorly hidden door behind the couch, eager to leave the migraine-inducing light show behind.