Alcohol & Economics - Something Dangerous - Part 9

Maxwell awoke, coughing violently. He could still taste gunpowder, and his shoulder did not seem to want to move. It was pitch black, even Maxwell’s heightened senses could not cut through the blackness surrounding him. He felt strange, though he could not place exactly why he felt so… unusual. He was bound; the ropes irritated his wrists, ankles and neck. Someone, distinctly feminine, spoke somewhere nearby, but his perception was skewed so he was unable to discern what was said.

Someone grabbed his forearm, but felt no fears. It was unusual, his primal instincts should have been screaming at them, but he remained at peace. A sharp pin prick and he fell back into unconsciousness, the taste of gunpowder still coating his senses.