Drained: The Lucid

by E. L. Blaisdell

  Riley surveyed the screen with growing dread and anticipation. She watched the metal door to the main room fly open, far more aggressively than when she had entered. A dozen and a half figures, masked and clothed in black, rushed into the room.

  Her phone vibrated in her coat pocket, and she fumbled to fish it out. She clicked at the first button she felt to still the device. It was Josh asking if she was okay. She had missed his warning text from earlier.

  Call the others and tell them everything if you don’t hear from me in the next hour. She hastily typed her response. Don’t text back. After the last message sent, Riley deleted her message history and shoved the phone into the bottom of her bag. Even if it were bugged, she couldn’t care in that moment; she had bigger problems, like getting out of the warehouse closet.

  Outside of the server room, Kenner’s voice exuded a calm confidence that had been missing in their own conversation, and her attention returned to the monitor. “How unfortunate that our party must be cut short. I honestly could have gone on for days.” Kenner was near his desk, but Riley knew he needed to access his computer if he were to delete the surveillance footage. Her nails dug into her palms as she watched.

  “Tell your people to stop what they’re doing,” one of the masked men demanded.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kenner’s voice was mocking. He inched close enough to his desk to take hold of his chair. “We were minding our own business until you and your friends decided to crash our Christmas party.”

  “Cut the crap,” a voice boomed through the spacious building. “Back away from the computer and put your hands up. Make these guys stop or—”

  “Unlike you Trusics bitches, everyone here is free to do what they please.” Kenner motioned to his cohorts whose fingers continued to move over their respective keyboards. Riley had no idea why they hadn’t fled the moment she walked in, but she guessed that blind devotion could drive people to do unreasonable acts. It was that or they didn’t have a reason to live either. “They aren’t my obedient little pets. Freewill. You should look it up.”

  One of the other masked figures circled the room. “Hey, boss,” he spoke up. “They have poker games up on their screens.”

  The man that had addressed Kenner walked over to the nearest human and looked at the monitor. “Whatever the hell this bullshit is, stop dicking around.” He grabbed the human by the collar of his shirt. “I know this isn’t the shit you’re working on.”

  “Look, we’re just here for a poker game,” the human choked out.

  The lead of the Trusics team curled his fingers around the hacker’s throat and lifted him from his seat. The rest of the room watched, helpless, as he drained the life from him. He tossed the corpse to the ground with a sickening thud.

  Riley covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the surprised gasp.

  “The fuck?” One of the other humans nearly fell out of his chair. He stood up and looked ready to flee. “What the hell are you guys?”

  “Sit down,” another masked figure demanded. “You bastards better stop what you’re doing or the same thing will happen to you.”

  They all lifted their hands from their keyboards as if guns had been held to their heads.

  “Let them go.” Kenner’s voice echoed. “They’re innocent.”

  Riley backed away from the monitor and looked around the small room for a vent or ceiling tiles she could lift. There was nothing. It was a desperate move, but she knew Trusics would tear the building apart once they were done with Kenner and his men. Sooner or later, they’d search the room she was in.

  Riley did her best to slow her breathing and her racing heart. She closed her eyes and whispered the name like offering up a prayer: “Morgan Ambre Sullivan.” She opened her eyes; she was still in the server room. The amulets continued to hold fast. She dug around in the bottom of her bag and retrieved her cell phone. She had Morgan’s number, but she couldn’t risk calling her directly. The men in the next room would hear her voice. Her thumb hovered over the text message keyboard, but she hesitated. What would she even write? Get rid of the amulets. I’m in trouble. Oh, and I need you to fall asleep pronto so I can get my ass out of here. Riley realized the absurdity of the request. There was nothing Morgan could do to help her situation. Asking her to destroy the amulets would put Morgan at risk and make her unnecessarily worry about what had become of her succubus.

  She thought about the only other human who’d she’d accessed without her watch—Amber. She closed her eyes and murmured her ex-girlfriend’s name aloud. Nothing, again. She was still stuck in the server room. It seemed Amber had actually taken Riley’s warning to heart. She imagined her frantically throwing clothes into a garbage bag and driving out of the state and maybe down to Mexico, but for all she knew, Amber was still awake in her kitchen and getting drunk.

  Riley could feel a slight tremor in her hand. Her heart raced; if she couldn’t think of another mark soon, she would be in a world of trouble. If found, her options were to fight a losing battle or she could play victim—spin an elaborate tale of how she had been kidnapped. The latter option left a bitter taste in her mouth. To lie was to be pulled deeper into the black widow’s web, and she didn’t want to be questioned by the very men capable of killing over company feuds. If she could phase out, she could avoid being on their radar altogether, and that was a far more attractive option.

  “You know what boys …” The man who acted as the head of the team, stepped forward. “Take care of them all. The late-night snack is on me.”

  Riley watched the monitor in horror as a handful of the humans struggled to flee. Kenner himself tried to fight a few of the masked figures, but he was only one against many. After a few moments, the gunshots began. The shots sounded like explosions in her brain. One person after the next fell lifeless to the floor. She mentally scrambled to come up with a list of marks from before her time at Trusics. But it had been decades since her days of relying on simple consent and not a database. She had flashed in and out of too many dreams to recall a single full name. An unsettling feeling hit the pit of her stomach as she realized that even if she were to make it out, there was still video footage that implicated her. Kenner’s unmoving figure indicated that he hadn’t been able to delete the video before Trusics had gotten to him.

  Besides the careful movements of the masked team, the monitor had become horrifyingly lifeless. It was then that Riley noticed three cables sprouting from the back of the monitor. She followed the cords down to a black device on the bottom rack; the flat box looked about the size of a game console. She crouched down to read a sticker on the top that stated the name of a security manufacturer.

  “Damn it.” The voice sounded like the leader of the group. “Someone call the cleaners. We need to make sure no one heard these cowards die.”

  “Hey, boss.” One of the Trusics’s employees rattled the doorknob to the server room. “This door is locked.”

  “Well, fix that,” came a yell. “You have a fucking foot and gun; use them. The rest of you sweep the rest of the building in case there’s more of them.”

  The metal door began to thump as a foot slammed repeatedly against its surface. It rattled the walls of the room, and the items on the equipment rack shook. Riley turned off the glow of the monitor before crouching down again; if they gained entrance into the room, she was determined to at least go down with a fight.

  “This thing is made of steel,” the voice complained.

  Riley tried not to be distracted by the way the door rattled. She focused on her list of marks again, channeling her thoughts into each name that crossed her mind.

  “If I have to come over there and break it in for you …”

  “No, boss.” The slamming on the door doubled in effort.

  “You’re useless.” She could hear a set of footsteps approach. “My one hundred-pound wife could kick this shit in faster than you.”

  The word wife echoed in Riley’s brain. Aside from Mo
rgan, she could remember one other recent client that had given her consent within the dream realm. It was a gamble, but the mark was her last hope to escape without being caught.

  Riley grabbed the digital recorder, and the movement caused the rack to creak. She had never taken a video surveillance system into the realm before, but there was a first for everything.

  “Who’s in there?” A part of the doorframe began to split away from the wall and the door loosened. She clamped her eyes shut to focus on her ex-mark. “Show yourself.” Another loud thud slammed into the door. “Fuck.”

  Riley heard a single gunshot just as she phased out.

  • • •

  “John.”

  The sound of Riley’s voice caught the man’s attention. He looked up from his work desk and a grin split his face. Within the span of a few breaths, he crossed the distance of the room. His dark eyes cast down toward the flat device in her hands.

  “Mon amour, let me grab that for you.” He carefully pried the item from her tight grip and placed it to the side. The surveillance system looked tiny in his hands. With the item no longer acting as a barrier, he returned to Riley’s side and hugged her, lifting her onto the tips of her toes. She reciprocated his embrace with the same enthusiasm. It was the first time she saw him as more than an erratic bump in her schedule.

  “I’m glad I’m able to get away from the office to spend today with you,” he whispered into her ear before pulling back. A plastered smile sat firmly on his mouth. “Did you happen to bring us some food?”

  Before she could answer, the world around them melted away. Drab office walls peeled down and turned into a million blades of lush green grass. Furniture pieces morphed into swing sets and metal monkey bars. A dirt bike path ran across the land and trees sprouted from the ground across the horizon. Behind them was a white picnic cloth draped across the ground. She felt the gentle squeeze on her ring finger; the familiar gold wedding band and diamond engagement ring were like a welcomed friend.

  Mr. Ten had always been one of her more active dreamers. The setting could rarely hold still for an entire session. He was a sweet guy with an odd sleeping pattern, an overactive mind, and she was indebted to him for giving her a means to survive in more ways than one. In all her years as a succubus, Riley had never been married in a mark’s dream. She was a mistress, not a bride. At least, not until Mr. Ten. The wedding had been simple, intimate, and attended by a few witnesses who Riley had assumed were his closest friends and family. It was in that dream that he had given her his full name: John Philippe Rivett.

  “It’s okay if you forgot it.” He rubbed at her arms and she smiled. “We can always go to our favorite restaurant after our foodless picnic.”

  “I’m not dressed for it,” she said, looking down. She had never shown up in any of his dreams in jeans or flats.

  “You look beautiful,” he whispered. His breath was warm against her ear. “But we can go home to change if that would make you happy.”

  He slid one of his hands down to grip hers and lifted it to kiss her knuckles. Riley smiled at the sweet gesture. Her eyes searched his, and she realized the look he had in his eyes. He was devoted to her, and he believed in their imaginary world. Riley moved to cup his face with her free hand.

  “What have I ever done to deserve someone like you?” He blushed at the words. “Do me a favor, keep yourself open to finding someone. You’ll make some woman extremely lucky.” She watched as his brow furrowed in confusion. He wouldn’t remember her words, but she could hope they would resonate somewhere in the depths of his mind.

  She kissed his cheek. “Promise me.”

  “Okay.” His frown lines faded and a smile reappeared at his mouth. “I think it’s a perfect day to watch the sky go by, don’t you think? A bottle of wine would be nice.”

  Riley softened at his easy mood despite the horrors she had just witnessed. “Why don’t you go get comfortable, darling. I’ll go to our car and see if I can find something for us.”

  He nodded before strolling to the white linen and making himself comfortable.

  She watched for a few indulgent seconds. “Thank you,” she whispered before she closed her eyes. Riley focused her mind on her own apartment and phased out of his dream.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Riley had been able to phase back to the safety of her home with the surveillance system intact. Within minutes of her return, she had called Josh to tell him she had made it out in one piece. Thankfully, for the both of them, he never had to make the calls to her friends. She couldn’t even fathom how a conversation like that would have gone. Hello, Heather? I’m Josh, Riley’s tech buddy from work, and not to ruin your Christmas, but Riley might be dead due to her own stupidity. She shook her head at the thought. She would have felt Heather’s wrath in any afterlife.

  After the Christmas database disaster, Trusics employees were given a few days off, fully compensated with energy, as the technical team worked to restore the websites. Josh was a part of that process, but he had managed to sneak away from the office on the last day of the mandatory vacation.

  Riley flipped open her laptop and pulled up a web video that had been released on the Trusics’s corporate website. She mirrored the laptop screen to her television for a bigger view.

  “You’re pretty good with tech for an old geezer.” Josh laughed next to her.

  “Best watch your mouth, young man.” Riley was too busy getting the video to play to look over and glare. “There we go.” She relaxed back onto the couch as the video began to play.

  An unfamiliar face, identified as the public relations representative, filled the screen. The woman had a petite frame, and wispy blonde hair framed her face in a long bob. Riley watched her get situated in front of the camera; she was a charming pick as a speaker. Riley knew she wasn’t an actual Trusics employee. Because of the need for anonymity, the company worked with external PR firms to be their public faces. It was never the same faces from their internal seminars. It was the only way to keep control over what was publically documented via images and videos.

  Riley glanced down at the phone on her lap and frowned. A device that could fit in the palm of her hand had the power to record evidence of their existence. Staying concealed was a growing problem with the advancement of technology, and she didn’t know how much longer Trusics could manage to remain hidden.

  “Good morning to everyone here. And thank you for being with us today. Let me start by saying that we greatly appreciate your vested interest in our well-being. The past week has been … a demanding time here at Trusics and it is unfortunate that I must say that we will be in a state of recovery for longer than originally anticipated.” She readjusted her shirt, and the clipped mic slipped off. Red painted lips mouthed a sorry as her manicured nails worked to reattach the mic. She shied a smile into the camera, and Riley couldn’t help but wonder if the endearing moves were all planned. If her line of work had taught her anything, it was that every move a person made was an insight into their intentions; visual communication spoke volumes about who a person was or who they wanted you to believe they were, and Trusics had proven itself to be the master of manipulation.

  “Recently, our servers were attacked, and a portion of our database became corrupt within that period. The malicious act has since been investigated, and the exploit, handled. We understand that within the past few months, the trust that our users place in us to protect their data has been damaged. This is why we plan to invest in a multimillion-dollar security infrastructure to revamp our entire network. And we can only hope that our customers will be willing to give us a second chance. No user-related information has been compromised, and our servers will be fully restored in the next forty-eight hours. We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience. Because of this regrettable incident, we’d like to offer all existing and new members an extra month of free service.”

  The young PR representative cleared her throat before continuing. “To wrap up, I’d like to say a f
ew final words.” She stared directly into the camera. “Over the course of the last two decades, our company has gained a dedicated following that many only dare to dream. But with success comes the bitter and ugly realities of malicious accusations to steer existing and potential customers away. Any outlandish rumors can come from a variety of sources, may it be a leaked plotline from one of our upcoming adult productions or unaccredited individuals purposely fabricating wild tales. The most important thing we can do is continue to provide a better service experience for our customers and allow our work and actions to speak for themselves. And, we hope that you will be a part in the betterment of our tomorrow.”

  Riley sat with an untouched beer bottle in hand and watched as a replay button appeared on her TV. “Jesus, even I almost bought into that,” she murmured. Pale eyes looked over to Josh who nodded in silent agreement. “How is it that they managed to gloss over the database issue like it was a minor error? Not only that, but they used this coverage to promote their future improved service.”

  Josh shrugged as he popped the cap off of his own bottle. “Because, they’re scary good at what they do.” He took a sip of the drink and his face scrunched.

  Riley allowed herself a chuckle at Josh’s expense. “I have soda in the fridge.”

  “Oh, thank God.” Josh’s lanky legs scampered to the kitchen and he grabbed a new drink. “Ah,” he sighed, chugging straight from the bottle, “much better.”

  He hopped the sofa and plopped down next to Riley.

  Riley lifted her bottle with a rueful look. “Long live the place where you’ll find your dream match, right?”

  “May we never be screwed by such an innocent corporation.” Josh returned the salute. They knocked their bottles together, Riley’s glass and Josh’s plastic, and drank.

  Riley sat her drink down on her coffee table. The dismantled surveillance system that she’d taken with her from Kenner’s warehouse sat on the surface nearby with a number of hard drives. “What do we do with these?”