Several Hours Later...

The first thing Marty Wright was able to register was that the room he was in was far too bright. His head began to ache the second his eyes tried to squint open as a bright white light flooded his entire vision. He closed his eyes again and let out a soft groan. At first he had no recollection of where he was and why he was so tired. He assumed he must of been drinking too much the night before and he was now feeling the dreaded side effects, but he remembered being tired the day before, why would he go drinking when he was already exhausted? He would have never lasted the night.

Eventually Marty found a way to open his eyes fully, allowing his vision to clear against the intense light source that bothered him so. Unsurprisingly the room he was in was mostly white, it had a number of large metallic tables with science equipment such as beakers, test tubes, microscopes and other such items all neatly positioned in the room. The whole place felt sterilised with a metallic sheen, it definitely wasn’t a school science lab as it was a very professional set-up.

The more the layout of the room began to register for Marty, the more he realised that something was indeed very wrong. What the hell was he doing in a laboratory? And that’s when he realised he couldn’t move his arms. He tried to get up, but he legs wouldn’t budge either. When he looked down at himself he made two key discoveries. The first was that he was sat in a chair that bound his arms and legs with metal cuffs placed on the front legs and arm rests. The second was that he was completely naked. And he was about to discover that he was not alone.

“I see that you are finally awake,” said a thick German accent from the other side of the room.

“Wh-what?” sputtered out Marty in a daze. “Who's there!?”

Out from the shadows stepped forth a very tall man in a lab coat. His head was completely bald, and he wore a goatee and thin moustache on his chiseled face. From the other side of the room he walked slowly up towards him, each step more pronounced than the other. He looked at Marty as if he was staring straight through him, reading every detail that laid inside his soul.

“My name is Victor Ballz,” he announced with no small sense of pride. “I am the CEO of the company you now find yourself in, and while you now know who I am, I can not help but wonder exactly who the hell you are supposed to be.”

“Look I’m no one, I swear I-” Marty tried to speak as his heart hammered in his chest, his internal dread rising by the second. Victor pulled out a small device and pointed it at Marty. The young man naturally flinched, only opening his eyes when he felt no immediate sensation of pain. The device was a small gadget that made an echo like sound as long as Victor held down the button.

“Now what I do know is what I can see. You're a man in his early twenties, white, judging by your subtle accent you are native English..” Victor walked around Marty as he examined him closer. “Long black hair, unusual green eyes, large behind which clashes with your figure, seems some early binge eating has lingered.” Victor finally stopped as he faced Marty again. “But you do not have a single trace of magical energy inside of you.”

“Did you say magical?” Marty asked, genuinely unsure if the other man misspoke.

“As you may have figured out by now, you were not our target. No it was your two roommates who were our intended goal. But good help can be hard to find these days so they grabbed you, panicked and fled the scene before they verified you as the correct target.” Victor dramatically slammed his fist on the table, an angry scowl crossed his face for just a second before returning to his calm demeanour. “So now that I have you here instead, you had best make this worth my while.”

Marty was feeling nothing short of helpless in his current situation. He was naked and strapped to a chair with a man who was much taller and stronger than him, and making not so subtle threats right to his face.

“What do you want from me?” He could barely squeak out.

“Information,” Victor stated bluntly. “You are going to tell me everything you know about Blair & Gwen Sinclair, or there will be consequences.”

Any other day Marty would have blabbed about everything to spare himself, he didn't even really know the other two that well, why should he care what happens to them? But a man like this wasn't asking for anything good, and he certainly couldn't be trusted with information like that. On the other hand Marty's sole chance of survival relied on giving Victor what he wanted.