I will be telling Timothy's story. You will have to believe that I was there, although I won't be talking about that, just about Timothy. Or should I say Tim? No we should probably start with Joe.
Joe woke up in a nondescript room, naked, and with a headache. His first thought was “Boy I'm hung!” It is important know that his next three thoughts were in this order: 1 – Where am I? 2- How do I get out? And finally, 3 – Who am I? I find it telling that Joe considered his location and the status of his confinement were more important then the fact he couldn't remember who he was. But I agree it is also telling that his very first though was about the size of his manhood, although to be honest it was quite impressive.
Joe was not completely naked. His left forearm was covered in a dull silver metallic sleeve. After several attempts he had to concede that the sleeve was actually attached to the arm. As he stared around the small cell ( it could be call nothing else) rubbing his temples he again asked himself, “Where the hell am I?”
“I do not seem to have that information, sir.” a very soft voice stated. Joe jumped and crouched it what appeared to be a defensive posture peering around the room looking for the source of the voice." Nothing and no one appeared. “Must be the hangover.”, mumbled the very confused young man.
“No sir. You do not appear to suffering any dehydration or other symptoms of over indulgence with alcohol. However, based on the physical scan of your systems it does appear you may have been struck on the back of your head and then drugged or drugged then you passed out striking your head during the fall.”
The voice stopped and Joe noticed a couple of things during the monolog. There was no voice, he could still here the ventilation running while “hearing” the voice. And he was very concerned. Every atom in his body was convinced that he was totally insane or in one of the deeper circles of Hell.
“Who am I talking to?”
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