The sight of the sleeping servant makes you jump abruptly. An abrupt jump right into... Dylan. He grabs your arms behind your back and holds you tight. You gulp, the feeling of the intimidating boys skin, it's cold. He shakes you a little, like you're a little kid, pulling you tighter against his beefy body and smirking a little.
"Eh? Watch where you are going? You don't want to end up into the wrong hands dude?" He laughs, and shockingly, you feel him just let go. He let go? He doesn't know you saw their servant in that way, yes! You turn, quite smug with yourself, to see a canister. A funny looking red canister right up to your noise with one of those bio-chemistry labels on it, like a warning. You jump back again. Into the doorway of Cole's room, where the Cole now grabs you. You need to stop jumping! You struggle, but it's pointless.
"Dude, time to sleep!" Says Dylan as he presses the nozzle of the canister and a moist, wet spray consumes you. You cough, and a second later, go limp in Cole's restraining grip.
You wake by the side of the servant, who you can is in fluctuating in a out of consciousness. You can tell he has been drugged, not by the canister though, gas is less permanent. They must of made him drink something, or eat something. And that's when Dylan walks in with a glass of fizzy water for you. I don't think it was originally fizzy, but either way, there isn't a hope you are drinking it. He approaches, and pokes the rim of the glass at your pursed lips. You'd hit him, but you hands are tied. You look to your right, see the servant, and you're scared. A month you are spending with these guys.
"Drink up! It's good for you." He taunts, he knows you know what it really is. But you refuse. So, he devises a plan.
You are sat against his bed, and suddenly, his hand reaches around the back of you. What is he doing?! Now his hand is coming back around of you, his elbow brushed your thigh in this movement and it tickles you. You fidget. And in his hand, a blackened yellow crusty sock. You stiffen.
"Haha..." He softly laughs as he gets the sock and places it to your nose. You decide it is best you embrace you fate, just try to endure it, so you don't struggle. It's rancid. It carries with it a cheesy, acidic tang and now your nose is burning. You moan, lips still pursed, but it's too much. You have to hold your breathe, the sock will kill you.
1... 6... 14... 22... 36... 40 seconds go by and your air is running thin. You choke. But due to your reflex, your nose doesn't breathe in, you are too scared of the sock. Your mouth opens instead... just like the Twin had planned. Before you know it, sparkling water is bubbling down the back of your throat and you can taste whatever pharmaceutical is in it.
You guzzle down the last drops from the poison chalice, "Good boy, aren't you a good boy!", coos Dylan like you are some sort of pet? Are you?
Then the ringing began. It was faint, and you find you hear slightly shifting side to side looking for it. Or it that because every inch of you is tingling. Oh, your forehead has gone heavy. Really heavy. And your hair slowly falls back, and as Dylan stands up dominantly, you have a front row seat to his crotch zipper. He's packing! He leans down, sadistically kisses you on the cheek, as all the lights around you blur and you hear noises from a distance that sound up close. You relax, and yawn, and go to sleep. They have you now... you are all theirs...
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