Jason woke up, and his head swam around viciously, proving once and for all the dangers of excessive alcohol drinking. Still, that was what twenty-three year old guys should be doing. He was a blokey bloke, he was tall and muscley, and he had stubble. His vision was blurred beyond nearly all recognition, but even through this haze he could see that something was not quite right. Where his bedroom should have been, he saw only white lights surrounding him. He saw none of the things he would normally attribute with his life around him, and all too qucikly his hangover subsided, and left him in a paranoid panic. He started talking to nobody in particular.
"Where am I? Why am I here? What's going on?"
But nobody responded. That was when he saw another figure in the room.
* * *
Naomi woke up, feeling surprisingly tired for someone who had gone to bed at nine o'clock sharp last night, because like the perfectly well behaved seventeen year old she was, she knew how to act properly. She was a girly girl, well endowed for her age, tall and pretty, and going places fast. She soon realised that this was not her room, and leapt to her feet in a panic. She saw a man stood in the middle of the room.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"I don't know," said Jason.
Suddenly, a voice echoed around them.
"Prepare for transferance. 5. 4. 3. 2..."