Dressed for Disaster: The Sequel

She gave him a grim smile. "The reason for that question will soon become apparent, Mr. Smith. Congratulations, you have been accepted into the study. Please sign here," she said as she produced a legal-looking document and handed him a pen.

Pat flipped through it and struggled to focus on the words. "What does it say?"

"Just formalities, Mr. Smith, don't worry your pretty head about them. Sign it. Now."

With an effort, Pat started to scrawl his signature on the page, realizing too late that he had written his real name. As he started to cross it out, the mad doctor stood up and pulled it away from him. "Pat Summers," she read aloud. "A lovely name. We are going to have such fun together!"

Pat tried to get to his feet, before he passed out onto the threadbare carpet.

***

Pat woke up in a cold sweat in a dark room. His head was throbbing and he was dying of thirst. When he tried to move his arms, he discovered that they had been strapped down. He seemed to be lying on some kind of gurney, under a white sheet. His legs were also immobilized, and his head was propped up on a hard pillow.

A door opened, and lights were switched on to reveal what looked like an operating room. As he squinted in the painful light, the woman in the doctor's coat approached him. Everything seemed vaguely familiar, as if he were reliving a very bad dream.

"Water," he croaked.

Without a word, she produced a glass of water, and he struggled to raise his head and drink it. Swallowing it all exhausted him, and he fell back onto the pillow.

"Where am I?"

"Where no one will ever find you."

"What have you done to me?"

"Don't you remember the personal advertisement you responded to? Or coming to my apartment? Or the legal papers that you signed?"

It was all coming back to him, but there was something else. He struggled to put it together. "I feel like I've been here before..."