I’d been drugged, locked in a room with a man. Under HD cameras, our every move was livestreamed on the dark web. The audience was ecstatic, betting on how long we could last. Now, two paths lay before me: either succumb to the drug and die an agonizing death. Or sacrifice my dignity, putting on a horrifying spectacle with this man for thousands of depraved eyes. “Hehehe, welcome everyone to ‘How Long Can They Last!’” An electronic, synthesized voice echoed in the enclosed space. The large screen on the wall clicked to life. The sudden brightness made me hiss in pain. “Awake?” the man’s voice rasped. I turned my head, my breath catching in my throat. It was Adrian Sterling, heir to the powerful Sterling Pharmaceuticals, a name synonymous with prestige in the city. Rumor had it, he was unapproachable. We’d only met twice at art exhibitions. My illustrations for their new drug had just passed final review, so we’d barely exchanged a word. “Mr. Sterling, where are we?” “An underground warehouse. We’re being livestreamed.” He retreated to a corner, his breathing heavy. “Doesn’t it feel a little hot in here?” I fanned myself, looking around. He shot me a strange look but didn’t answer. High-definition cameras were installed in all four corners, broadcasting to the dark web. A strange, burning heat was simmering under my skin. I tried to take deep breaths, anything to distract myself. “Mr. Sterling, how did you end up here too?” I usually didn’t have bodyguards, making me an easy target, but his security was legendary. Why us, specifically? “Betrayed,” he grunted, his voice low. “Who’s behind this?” “I don’t know yet, but I will find out.” The live chat on the big screen scrolled wildly: [HOLY CRAP! IS THAT SUMMER, THE ILLUSTRATOR?!] [EVEN THE CITY’S TOP BACHELORS WERE AFTER HER!] [ADRIAN STERLING, THE NOTORIOUSLY RESERVED CEO? THIS IS WILD!] [DARK WEB, YOU’RE INSANE!] Those words felt like dirty hands trying to strip me bare. “Let us out! This is illegal!” My voice trembled. The electronic voice let out an exaggerated, mocking laugh. “Oh, help me, I’m so scared!” “The 30-minute countdown has begun! Place your bets on how long they can resist, and who breaks first!” The comments became even more brazen: [PLAYING INNOCENT? ONCE THE DRUG KICKS IN, YOU’LL BE BEGGING!] [IT’S BEEN HALF AN HOUR, WHY HAVEN’T THEY STARTED?] “Drug?” I glanced at Adrian. He looked even worse than I felt. Cold sweat trickled down his face, his hands braced against the wall, muscles trembling, like he was wrestling a beast. I rushed to the steel door, pounding on it. “Hello? Is anyone out there? Open up!” “The drug will kick in faster if you exert yourself. Don’t fight it,” Adrian warned. His voice was husky, like a potent poison. I instinctively wanted to lean into his embrace, and a shiver ran through me. “The door’s welded shut…” he sighed. I glared at him. “So, we just wait to be tortured to death by the drug? Or be humiliated like animals in front of thousands?” He said, “I’m sorry. I won’t touch you.” I started to cry. “I’m just so scared.” “Don’t worry,” sweat beaded on his forehead. “I won’t touch you.”
“You’re so loud! Looks like we didn’t give you enough!” the electronic voice hissed, sinister. A pink gas sprayed out, a sickeningly sweet scent filling my nostrils, and my fingertips tingled. Adrian turned, his eyes fixed on me, pupils mere pinpricks. My body trembled, and a shameful anticipation stirred within me. “Don’t breathe it in!” He rushed towards me, covering my mouth and nose with his hand. His hand was terrifyingly hot, his thumb brushing my lips with an almost aggressive feel. I instinctively leaned into his embrace, his face inches from mine, his breath a fiery inferno of the drug’s scent. The comments section exploded: [FINALLY SOME ACTION! HOLD HER TIGHT!] [HIS HAND’S GOING TO CRUSH HER FACE!] Adrian’s fingers tightened abruptly, and I let out a muffled groan of pain. “Sorry.” He let go suddenly, stumbling back and hitting the door. A sharp edge on the door sliced his forearm, and blood welled up. I gasped. “Don’t be scared!” He dug his fingers into the wound, a primal roar escaping him like a trapped beast, forcing himself to stay lucid and away from me. The comments were vicious: [BLEEDING FOR SYMPATHY?] [LET HER LICK IT CLEAN!] I wasn’t doing well either. The drug was devouring my will, creeping through my veins. I bit my tongue, fighting the rising tide of desire. My skin crawled with an unbearable sensation, wanting to draw closer to the source of the intoxicating scent. Adrian’s wound was still bleeding, staining half his sleeve red. I tore off the lace hem of my dress. “Use this to bandage it.” My voice was trembling as I offered it to him. His eyes were bloodshot, like a wild animal’s. His gaze first fell on the strip of fabric, then on me. I tried to pull my hand back, but he grabbed it, and a tingling jolt shot through me. My mind screamed at me to push him away, but my body only wanted to burrow into his arms. “Please… no, Adrian.” I bit my lip, enduring the pain. The comments section erupted: [FINALLY GETTING HANDS-ON! PIN HER AGAINST THE WALL!] Tears streamed down my face onto his hand. He flinched, as if burned. He let go, gasping for air as he retreated two steps. “I’m sorry! No need for a bandage.” We both knew: to surrender was to become an animal, to couple in front of a thousand mocking eyes, our video sold for profit. The price would be endless agony and regret.
The comments section hissed with anticipation: [HE ACTUALLY REFUSED? WHAT A PRETENDER!] [USELESS! CAN’T EVEN HANDLE A WOMAN!] [MR. STERLING’S BACK MUST BE ACHING!] The speakers crackled to life with the cold electronic voice: “The ‘Proximity Challenge’ begins. Follow the rules, or we’ll release more of our ‘pink bubbly air.’” Adrian roared, “Go ahead! I’ll die before I let you have your way!” The electronic voice chuckled. “And what about Ms. Summer?” The drug’s effects were at their peak. I shook my head, unable to speak. The electronic voice turned cold. “He might be a mountain to climb, but for you, it’s just a veil away. Aren’t you going to make the first move?” The screen cut to a pink hair tie, a birthday gift for my sister, Chloe. She wore it every single day. The electronic voice cackled viciously, “If you don’t want anything to happen to her, make him kiss you. Don’t you want to?” The comments went wild: [BIG GUNS! KISS HER!] [IS HER SISTER’S LIFE MORE IMPORTANT, OR HER MODESTY?] [BETS ON A MISSIONARY KISS! 500,000 STAKE!] My blood ran cold. Chloe was the person I loved most in the world. My reason was slowly slipping away. “Who paid for this?” Adrian gritted out. The electronic voice replied, “Don’t you worry your head, Mr. Sterling. We just get paid to ‘handle’ problems.” The countdown began. The screen flashed, showing Chloe tied to a chair, her mouth gagged, shaking her head and crying desperately. I screamed, trying to rush forward, but Adrian held me back. “Ten… nine…” I cried, “Adrian, please…” Trapped between the drug’s torment and the threat, I gave up struggling. He looked up, shocked and pained. The comments section erupted: “She’s finally coming around!” “Mr. Sterling, don’t just stand there, kiss her!” “Kiss her, then get to it!” “Eight…” He didn’t move, just turned his head, straining against the wall, his body trembling. We both knew the consequences.
For Chloe, I moved towards Adrian. I was two steps away when my strength gave out, and I stumbled a step forward. He quickly reached out to steady me, his burning palm grasping my waist, feeling like fire. “Careful.” His voice was hoarse, his grip controlled but trembling. The electronic voice counted to four. The comments section mocked: [CAN’T EVEN HOLD HER WAIST PROPERLY?] [MR. STERLING, ARE YOU IMPOTENT?] [WOMAN, JUST THROW YOURSELF INTO HIS ARMS!] I gritted my teeth. “Kiss me!” Cold sweat from my forehead dripped into my eyes, stinging. I didn’t dare close them, staring into his. His bloodshot eyes held a fierce struggle. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his head slowly lowered. His breath caressed the top of my head, intensely invasive. The kiss was as light as a feather, faintly cool, momentarily easing some of the burning heat. The unexpected tenderness only made me more uneasy. My mind screamed to push him away, but my body responded with an honest desire to hold him close. The comments section exploded: [FINALLY KISSED! NOW GRAB HER CHEST!] He whispered, barely audible, “The tracker’s activated. Just hold on.” His wound was fake, a ruse to activate an implanted chip. I snapped awake, pulling my hand away. The electronic voice grumbled, “Ms. Summer, you’re not being active enough. Take off a piece of clothing, or we’ll feed your sister some ‘goodies’ too.” I snarled, “You wouldn’t dare!” The screen switched to Chloe’s feed; someone was clearly preparing to force-feed her the drug. I screamed, trying to touch the screen, but he held me back. “Don’t be impulsive,” he said, his voice hoarse but steady. “They want us to lose control.” I choked back a sob. “But Chloe…” Seeing my sister trembling, my heart ached. He unbuttoned his blazer, taking it off, leaving him in a white shirt, his wound still seeping blood. “Take it off,” he said. “I promise I won’t touch you, except when absolutely necessary.” My hands trembled as I unbuttoned my dress, revealing my slip. Shame washed over me. The comments section cheered, obscene words lashing out at me like whips. He held me, his palms resting on my back, no caress, just contact. His body temperature was searing, his breathing ragged. I could feel him desperately holding back. “I’m sorry, you’ve been so wronged,” he whispered in my ear. My tears fell, wetting his shirt. He suddenly lowered his head and kissed me. The kiss was laced with the drug’s wild madness and pain, a hint of metallic blood, yet his touch was so careful not to hurt me. My body was tense, my mind screaming to stop, but my body responded instinctively. We were like suppressed flames colliding, igniting an inferno. His hand slid to my sensitive waist, then abruptly stopped. He pushed me away, gasping for air, “I’m sorry, I lost control.” I fell back, my slip strap slipped, leaving me exposed. He also collapsed, his shirt soaked with sweat, his wound torn open again, blood dripping onto the floor. Sweat mixed with blood. The comments section still roared, but the electronic voice remained silent. Suddenly, I felt that holding onto my last shred of dignity, even if it meant dying here, would be worth it.
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