The third drink
The strong headache and the desire to vomit due to the excesses committed during the party last night had him in bed. He was not able to remember how he had reached the room. I could barely see the movement of the ceiling fan blades, the perception of floating on the mattress and the strange numbness on his face were a torture he wished would happen soon.
He stood up as he could in search of a place to vomit, the room was totally strange, without windows and with a sink inside. With each contraction, a twinge slices his brains until he feels the bitterness of the bile flooding his mouth.
The fan sound bothered him and although he sweated intensely, he felt very cold. Backtracking he snuggled back into bed. Several minutes passed, which seemed endless, the pulsations in his head dilated and the pain subsided as he fell asleep again.
A noise that came from behind the door woke him, brought his hands to his face, still insensitive, to take off his sweat, he tried unsuccessfully to remember who led him to where he was.
Now, he reproached himself for having accepted the invitation of the beautiful lady, with whom he had only chatted with her twice in the hospital corridor, where her grandmother was convalescent, the poor woman was recovering from a fracture. But how not to accept? She was, in addition to beautiful, very sensual and he did not want to miss the opportunity to be intimate with her and to seduce her. The party was ideal.
He wanted to be with her between the four walls, but his immoderation in the drink led him to the shameful situation he was in. He wondered: Who would say that three drinks of liquor were enough to make it meaningless?
When he answered the question himself, he panicked, jumped like a feline from the bed and two stride came to the door, just to check his fears, it was locked. He thought, of course, in one of the drinks, or perhaps in the food, some kind of substance had doped him.
"Open the door for me!"
No one answered despite feeling that someone was behind the door.
"How long have I been here and why?" He asked again.
The door was solid, it was useless to push and knock it, as well as the sporadic screams of despair at feeling imprisoned. So long hours passed until he heard the door bolt turn.
Adrenaline ran through his veins, increasing the rate of his heartbeat, in just a few moments he would confirm his suspicion, but he still didn't understand the motive of the kidnapping. He had no fortune, the house where he lived since the deaths of his parents in a tragic accident was his grandmother.
A pair of subjects dressed in white entered the room and among them emerged the pretty girl. The young man exclaimed agitated.
"What do you want from me?"
She looked at him answering.
"Your heart, your rare and precious blood, honey. Don't worry, we'll take care of your grandmother."
An original drabbler by @janaveda