My head hurts as I tried to regain my consciousness, trying to recollect whatever that occurred to me the night before like it was a bad dream. I recalled fingers stroking my scalp gently while I was sleeping last night but the touch was just a dream too.

I opened my eyes to findthat I was in someone else's bedroom. It was a half lit dim rectangular room, spacious than mine with curtains shielding the window above me, only one panel was partially uncovered allowing a stroke of sunlight breaking through and touching the wooden floor. From its simplicity, colour combination of dull grey and white, unruly orientation of personal items lying around with no décor, I sensed that I was taken into a man's bedroom.

I heard heavy breathing behind me, I began to frantic. What exactly happened last night? I braved myself to turn around and saw Nick lying next to me, looking at his iPhone. I jumped out of the bed instantly, alerting my nerve system to awake but my legs were still sleeping sending me staggering out of balance.

"Good morning," Nick looked at me smiling. He folded his arms and putting his hand at the back of his head. "Had a good sleep last night?

My eyes darted around the room before looking down at myself. My head sent another panic attack when I saw myself in a man's shirt and gym shorts.

"Okay, Zahida. You need to calm down," Nick sensed me panicking.

"Where am I? Why am I here? How did I end up here? Where are my clothes?!" I squeaked.

"You passed out last night," Nick replied. "Those were my old clothes. Yours are in the washer."

"What happened last night? Am I still a virgin?" I asked again in my high-pitched voice.

"You are?" he looked at me in surprise.

"Shut up!" I hissed, taking a few steps back, covering my hands around my vanity area as though they were exposed.

"Okay, seriously, you need to breathe or else you'll collapse once more."

"Did you touch me last night?" I asked out of the blue.

"Well, technically yeah, but –"

I gasped in horror and my eyes widened. "You asshole! You pervert!" I took a cushion on the floor and stroked a few whacks at him.

"It was not like that!" he fended off with his right arm.

As the whacking grew intense, he swivelled his feet to the floor and got out of the bed, attempting to halt my attack but I was distracted by Nick's shaft underneath his Under Armour sweatpants bolted upright towards me. I yelped harder while he looked down.

"I have no control over that, I'm sorry," he said reassuringly with both his hands up in the air. I took a few skips to the door, evading from him. "You threw up all over your shirt last night. I don't want your last night's dinner smudging on my bed sheets."

"Am I in your bedroom?" I questioned.

"It was, yeah," he shrugged.

I groped my hands for the doorknob, twisting it open but I couldn't. My panic-stricken self was about to lose it once more. "Why did you lock me in?"

"The door's a bit jammed, I'll open that," Nick went closer, but I aimed the cushion at him. "Do you want to get out or not?"

"Tell me how, I'll do it on my own," I demanded, still pointing the cushion at him as though I was holding a gun.

"Zahida, stop panicking and let me open the bloody door," his calm voice turned agitated.

"No! You deliberately lock me in so that you can rape me," I accused.

"If you don't calm down, the missile in my pants will launch an attack at you," he said in between his teeth.

"I want to get out!" I yelled

"Zahida sit!" he roared crossly at me, outrun my voice, pointing towards the bed. "This is a three storey building and we're in the attic. I am capable of throwing you out the window if I have to!"

My franticness retreated from my nerve system. I stared at him perplexed, then I obeyed as I turned towards the bed behind and rested my bum on its foam mattress. I calmed myself down as per his suggestion, rebooting my senses and my consciousness to sanity. He turned away from me towards the door, fixing his manhood in the pants and worked his ways with the door to open. He gestured towards the opened door, but I didn't budge.

"What happened last night?" I asked calmly.

"You don't remember?" he asked back.

"I don't know. Was I drinking alcohol?" I casted a penetrating stare at him.

"No, you weren't," Nick said, concern in his face as he approached towards me. "You went unconscious right after Cane smash... John Doe's face."

Then it was all coming back to me, horrendous images of Cane torturing their prey, crucified to a wall, in an abandoned building. I wasn't supposed to be there but I was curious.