Rachel Walters was pissed. The inebriated 18-year old stared at her phone with bewilderment. The Uber she had just taken home from a local bar cost 55 dollars.
"55 fucking bucks" Rachel muttered to herself. The college freshman was barely making that a night at her part-time job. If her course load wasn't going to be the death of her, it'd be working at DiFresciantes, a local pizzeria.
Rachel made her way up to her dorm room. Thank god she didn't have a roommate. The teen took off her red checkered fleece, her skinny jeans, and the band out of her long, brown hair and made her way to her bed.
"Call mom tom..." Rachel muttered to herself as she passed out instantly.
Rachel awoke and found that she was not in her dorm room. As a matter of fact, she didn't appear to be...anywhere. A gray mist surrounded her and she could barely see anything. Rachel soon started to hear something. She couldn't identify what it was at first but it got louder and louder. As the intensity increased, Rachel realized she was hearing...whistling???
Rachel tried to process the whistling that seemed to come from nowhere before she realized it had a source. A man dressed in a suit walked out of the mist. He was wearing white gloves and a top hat. He appeared to be wearing some kind of white mask, but the eye holes revealed nothing but darkness.
"You...must...be." the man said, as he pulled a card out his pocket. "Rachel. Rachel Walters."
Rachel, understandably panicked, lost her nerve. "WHERE THE FUCK AM I. WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU."
The man walked closer and closer to her. Rachel started backing up. "DON'T YOU FUCKING TOUCH ME. I will kick, bite, scream."
"There is no one, this is nothing" the man said. "We are in a place outside of time and reality. Nonetheless, you have no reason to be concerned. I am not here to cause you pain; I offer you something else." It was at this point Rachel realized the man did not appear to have a mouth.
Rachel stood still. She was very uncomfortable standing in this...whatever, having only a bra and panties on. The man started to speak again.
"You are Rachel Walters, 18. 5'8, 135 pounds. Brown hair, brown eyes. Freshman at St. Alberine's College. Business major. Heterosexual. Six different sexual partners in her life."
"Excuse me??!?!? How would you know what and what business it="
"Silence." the man said in a cold, almost indifferent way. "Your proclivities do not concern or interest me. You are here for a...test."
Out of thin air, the man produced a briefcase. He popped it open, revealing seven different vials of purple liquid.
"We are...voyeurs." the man said. "Flesh, sweat, blood...these exist outside of our grasp. However, we can mold. Change. Create. Rachel Walters, there is much to explore with you."
"Fuck you, you little creep." Rachel shot back.
"Each of these vials will provide you a new outlet for physical pleasure. After you have tested all seven, you will be brought back here and have the choice to be blessed with one of these gifts permanently."
Rachel crossed her arms.
"No thanks." she said. "Get me out of-"
Rachel gasped as she appeared back in her dorm room bed. "It was just a bad dream" she thought. She got out of her bed to pour a glass of water. As she walked past her desk, she noticed something startling. The briefcase from her dreams.
"What...the...fuck" she said in a whisper.
She tentatively opened the briefcase and was startled to find the seven vials of purple liquid. Rachel picked up a vial and held it in her hands. She thought about it for half a second before downing the liquid. Caution was not one of Rachel's strong suits.
As she laid back in bed, Rachel felt her stomach start to rumble. She could feel her skin start to rumble.
"Well, fuck" Rachel exclaimed.