“So, after a week, the best explanation that you’ve got is that she vaporized?!” Charity was not feeling particularly generous as she stood up from the visitor’s chair in Detective Tumalo’s cramped office. “What about the text message I received?”

Charity’s older sister, Faith, had accompanied her to the interview. “Shhh, baby,” she whispered. “Sit back down.”

“The text message says that it came from your own phone number,” the detective explained. “Numbers can be spoofed and it takes time to get information from the mobile carrier. There’s a process.”

Charity pressed a hand to her pounding head. She had been frantic all week – not sleeping – praying that she would hear from Blue – worrying about the fact that she was stuck in a chastity belt… She knew that Blue was out there somewhere. She just knew it. Faith helped Charity sit back in the chair.

“Here,” the detective passed a small envelope. Charity opened the seal and poured the contents into her palm: four pieces of jewelry. “Can you identify these?”

Charity felt tears start to grow in her eyes. She had to take a moment before she could choke out a reply. “Yes. These two are studs for her ears. It’s her birthstone. I gave them to her last… Um… She wore this ring as a helix piercing.”

“On her left side?” the detective asked.

“Yes.”

“And the last ring?”

“Uh… um… it was an inti…, an intra…, an intimi… Fuck!” Charity looked at Faith. “What’s the word I’m looking for? An intimidate…”

“Intimate, baby,” Faith whispered.

“An intimate piercing…” Charity said pointing down toward her crotch. “You know?” The detective nodded but said nothing. “Sorry. I haven’t been sleeping so well… ahem… How did you know…? How did you know that she wore the helix ring on her left side?” Charity asked.

“That’s the thing,” the detective said. “The way the clothes were laid out in the driver’s seat was like a cruel joke. Like Blue had just suddenly ceased to exist and everything she wore was left just like they would have been if worn by someone. Obviously, whoever did this had to have had an intimate knowledge of her piercings. That last ring was tucked inside the panties, for example.”

Charity looked off in horror trying not to fixate on the terror she imagined that Blue must have faced.

Faith suggested, “Whoever took Blue and removed her clothes would have seen where the jewelry was located.”

“Yes, but whoever did this could have only had seconds before another car would have passed by. Jefferson and Pine is a generally well traveled intersection,” the detective explained. “Charity, do you know if Blue was wearing any other jewelry?”

“Uh… I don’t think so…”

The detective nodded. “No necklaces or anything?”

“Well… uh… actually, she was wearing a solid, metal, choker-like necklace,” Charity glanced briefly at Faith who raised her eyebrows in shock.

“Are you sure?” the detective asked.

“Oh… yeah… She was wearing it.” Charity’s face was flushed. Faith tried to comfort her by stroking her back. Faith’s eyes wandered down towards Charity’s lap.

“I didn’t find anything like that in her car,” the detective explained.

“Hm,” Charity grunted.

“What do you mean when you describe something as ‘solid, metal, choker-like’?” Detective Tumalo asked, leaning forward in her chair.

“You know… it was pretty form fitting… like… one piece of metal … It has a round medallion dangling from a short chain on the front side…” Charity explained.

“How wide was this choker?” the detective asked. “Could it be described as a collar, do you think?”

“Uh… yeah… a collar… about an inch and a half wide.” Charity’s eyes were red. Faith leaned down and started digging through her purse which was sitting on the floor.

“These earrings are probably worth… what?… about a hundred bucks. Was this choker – this collar – expensive? Was it worth a lot of money?”

Charity felt a short, small pulse – a brief involuntary flex of her kegel muscles – beneath the chastity belt. Tingles radiated up her back. She made a short inhale of air.

Faith finally found what she was looking for – a packet of tissues. She gave one to Charity and whispered, “Here you go, baby.”

Charity shrugged her shoulders in answer to the detective’s question. “I’m not sure how much the collar was worth – it’s really well designed, but it’s not particularly ornate.”

“OK. I’m just going to ask… Was this collar, like, a BDSM style collar? Was it locked on? Something that would not have been easy to remove?”

Charity glanced at Faith for a moment, then back to the detective. “It was locked on. Blue could not take it off without the key.”

“Did Blue have the key to this collar?”

“No.”

“Do you know who has the key?”

“I do.” Charity said.

“Are you sure that you still have the key?” Detective Tumalo asked.

“It’s in a safe place.”

“OK” Detective Tumalo sat back for a moment, glancing several times between Charity and her sister. “Do you happen to have a photo of the collar that I could see?”

Charity flipped through images on her phone until she found one with Blue wearing the collar and handed it over to Detective Tumalo.

“Is there a padlock?” the detective asked.

“No. It has an internal locking mechanism…”

“Can you text me this picture?”

“Sure.”

“OK. Finally, I’d like to confirm the details regarding your movements around town that evening,” the detective said after a moment.

“Well, as I wrote in my statement, I arrived at the Clearwater Bar at about 6:20pm and got a drink from the bar. I sat there until a little after 7pm when I was finally able to call Blue’s phone and you answered it. Then I drove straight here to the station.”

“Are you sure about the times?” the detective asked.

“I’m positive,” Charity said. Charity’s hands had begun to flutter about anxiously – pressing against the tops of her thighs. Faith gently took Charity’s right hand and held it in her own.

There was a knock at the door. Before the detective could react the door opened and a woman with a bleached blonde buzz cut walked into the office.

“Oh! Hello, Tam!” the detective said. “Do you all know each other?”

Charity shook her head, no.

“This is Tam Fir. Tam, this is Faith and Charity McKenzie. Tam is my next interview.”

Tam smirked and looked at Charity, studying her from bottom to top.

“Tam was also in a relationship with Blue, I guess before…” The detective paused and looked between Charity and Tam. “Sorry… I thought maybe you knew each other.”

“Hm,” Charity grunted. “Tam? No… Blue never talked about any old relationships.”

“I’m not surprised,” Tam said, with a cruel smile. “Blue liked to keep her private life… under wraps? Locked down? I’m not sure how best to describe it. So, you’re her latest toy? That bitch was a complete control freak.”

“Hey!” Charity said.

“Chill, sweetheart.”

“Come on, Charity.” Faith interjected. “Let’s go.”

They exited the station and got into Faith’s car.

“Oh, my god, Charity! Are you wearing that chastity belt? How are you going to get that thing off?” Faith asked.

“You know it won’t come off without the key… Regardless, it changes nothing. I have the same task. I must find Blue!”

–+-

Charity sat up in bed. Her heart was pounding. It was midafternoon and she had been napping, but she heard the distinct sound of glass breaking. …Or did she dream that? She had been in a deep sleep and now she was groggy and disoriented. She reached over onto the shelf of her nightstand, picked up a heavy claw hammer, and stepped out of bed. Except for the chastity belt, she was naked.

She stepped out of the bedroom and began looking from room to room, checking the windows. She went through the second bedroom, the hall bathroom, the living room, the kitchen… The front door was locked and bolted. Everything was in its place. She opened the door to the cellar and listened from the top of the stairs. There were no windows down there and with the sound-proofing… She closed the door and locked it. The sound must have just been something from a dream.

She returned to her bedroom to get a large t-shirt. As she was putting it on, her phone chimed – a text message. Her heart stopped for a moment – another message from “Keyholder”. She opened the message. The text only contained a minimized web address.

“Shit!”

Charity didn’t want to click on the link. It might install some virus on her phone. She decided to type the address directly into her computer’s browser rather than click on it. After firing up her laptop, she entered the address, hit enter, and watched the browser forward to a different page. Some kind of audio player started up automatically – a white line on a black background that simulated a waveform when any sound played. The sound that was being played was Blue’s voice.

“Charity? It’s me Blue.” Her voice was a little higher than ordinary. Her words, tentative. She was obviously under duress somehow. “They want me to send you a message. They told me what to say. They. Or it. Or someone. I don’t know. I haven’t actually seen anyone since I’ve been locked in this room. This place.”

Charity placed her hand on the monitor screen as though she could reach through the internet.

“Oh… Fuck, Charity!! They’re watching you!” Blue was on the verge of tears. “They say that if you tell anyone about receiving this message, you will never… you’ll never hear from me… ever again. They say you can’t tell the police, or your sister, or your coworkers, or your lawyer… Nobody!”

“What? Strange…,” Charity wondered. “I don’t even have a lawyer.”

“Also,” Blue’s voice continued, “they say that they have prescribed you some medicine. They recommend that you take it. They say it will help you with your… your… I’m still wearing the collar, Charity! It’s still locked on my neck, which means that you are still locked up too… and the medicine is for your neuras… uh… neurasthenia… I think that is how you say that word. Sounds like something that you would know. They wrote the word on the wall… Anyway you have to take the medicine, Charity. Please… I love you. Please do what they say! We’ll figure this out! One last thing… You have to keep the medicine in the refrigerator. Oh, fuck, Charity! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorr-“

The recording ended. After staring at the screen for a moment, Charity clicked the refresh button on the browser hoping to hear the message – Blue’s voice – again. The browser only responded: “This site can’t be reached”.

Medicine? “Oh, fuck!” Charity exclaimed and jumped up from the desk, practically running into the kitchen. She threw open the refrigerator door causing a line of glass beer bottles to rattle. There on the top shelf was a large medicine bottle. The label only said “Charity. 5ml twice per day. Do not take with alcohol.”

Later that night Charity sat at her kitchen table staring at a medicine cup with 5ml of the mysterious prescription. ‘Neurasthenia’. Neurasthenia is an ill-defined medical condition characterized by lassitude, fatigue, headache, and irritability, associated chiefly with emotional disturbance. Yes. Those were her symptoms.

“I have nothing, if I lose my trust in Blue,” she wondered.

She picked up the cup and drank every last drop of the medicine.

–+-

Several days later, Charity was feeling much better. Perhaps it was the medicine. Maybe it was simply that she had heard Blue’s voice in the audio message and by following her instructions she was advancing towards a resolution where she would be reunited with Blue once again. Certainly, she was sleeping much better.

The chastity belt was still locked in place, of course. And the arousal it brought about was extreme and sharp. But, Charity felt she was handling it. It wasn’t clouding her mind as much as it seemed to before. She even felt well enough to return to work.

“I’m glad that you are feeling better,” said Perit Huntington, the lead at Charity’s psychiatric practice. “Work will keep you in motion.”

“I believe so, too,” Charity agreed.

“Of course, my door is always open if you need to talk about how you are doing, OK?” Perit smiled. “I have some experience listening.”

Charity smiled, “I know. I’ll take you up on that.”

“Well… I’m glad that you’re back… something has come up and I have a special assignment that you are uniquely qualified for…” Perit stated as she took a sip of coffee. “Have you been following the news at all?”

“No, I couldn’t,” Charity frowned. “I have no idea what’s been going on, besides, you know… Blue.”

“Of course,” Perit said. “Well, about a week and a half ago, a woman was found locked in a suitcase. They call her the ‘decorated’ woman in the news.”

“Oh, yeah! I think I saw something about that the night…” Charity froze.

“Apparently, the suitcase was found during a routine scan at the regional airport. Totally freaked the TSA agent out! No one could figure out where the suitcase came from. It had proper tags, although the tags were for an origin and destination in Europe. How could the suitcase have gotten to a smaller domestic, regional airport like ours?”

Perit continued: “Anyway, they broke the padlock on the suitcase and found this woman totally crammed inside – and this was not a particularly big suitcase. But, she was alive and apparently no worse for wear. She was completely naked. Well… technically not, but…”

“Why do they keep calling her the ‘decorated’ woman?” Charity asked.

“Oh, my god! She is covered in tattoos and piercings and strange and somewhat cruel surgical implants, metal and chains – from head to toe. Her face, her boobs, her vagina – everywhere.”

“Oh!”

“And, her eyes!” Perit visibly shivered. “They are… inhuman? The most mysterious thing is… No one can figure out who she is or where she came from.”

“Uh… can she speak? Or communicate somehow? What does she say?”

“She can speak but it’s not any language that we have been able to identify, yet,” Perit explained. “Anyways, obviously, she cannot function in a public setting right now, so she has been housed over at the asylum.”

“Oh. Ooo!”

“Yeah. I’m hoping, if you are up for it, of course, that perhaps you could have a session with her. See if you can break through somehow and figure out how to communicate with her.”

“Yes. Of course,” Charity said, “I’d love to try and talk with her.”

“Apparently, though, she wasn’t the only thing in the suitcase. They also found a journal of some sort that describes the fate of that missing stripper from last year, Ash Adams,” Perit continued.

“Do they think that this decorated woman had anything to do with Ash’s disappearance?” Charity asked. “Do you think that she has something to do with Blue?”

“If anything, she seems to be more of a victim,” Perit suggested. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up. People disappear all the time. However, by delivering this woman and this journal in a suitcase, it seems like Ash’s kidnappers want to play a game with the cops. And based on the way the cops found Blue’s clothes lying in her car like she just vaporized… Well… Her kidnappers seem to be playing a game too…”

“Have you read the journal?” Charity asked.

“No. I think the cops are analyzing it right now…”

Later that afternoon, Charity was sitting at a table in a bland, windowless room at the asylum. Two irritated-looking orderlies escorted a slight woman, one with a firm grip on her upper arm. The woman wore a black hoodie so big that it almost came down to her knees and the hood pulled up so far that her face was cast in a dark shadow from the flickering, overhead fluorescents. Over her legs, she wore dark gray scrubs, once again, baggy and so long that they covered her feet and dragged on the floor.

One orderly pulled out the chair opposite Charity’s while the other wordlessly and somewhat forcefully shoved the woman down onto the seat. She placed her arms up on the table as her chair was unceremoniously pushed up to the table. Her hands were tucked deep in the sleeves. The orderlies stepped back and stood by the door as though expecting an outburst of some sort.

Charity looked up at them. “I’ll be OK. You all can wait outside please.” She hoped that she was correct.

“Yes, ma’am,” one said. “Scream if you need us. She doesn’t like to be touched and she has a lot of particularly hard, sharp bits of metal embedded in her. And she’s not afraid to use them.”

“I understand,” Charity said. “Thank you.”

After the door closed, Charity took a moment to look at the woman sitting before her. They were about the same size. The table was wide enough to prevent a punch or kick from causing much damage. Charity leaned forward on the table and smiled. “Hello, they have told me that you do not speak English. Is that true?”

The woman sat motionless. Charity could see nothing of her face with the hood pulled up as it was. A dark metal chain necklace with small sturdy links rested against her chest – a blue jewel at the point where the strand from either side joined into a single chain which descended a few inches to a second jewel, also blue.

“Those jewels are striking. Very pretty,” Charity said. She wanted to project a sense of friendliness in her voice.

The woman suddenly began talking. Her voice was higher pitched – a little delicate. Soft. Charity did not recognize any of the words. It sounded as though she spoke with marbles in her mouth though that could just as easily be the way her language sounded. Interspersed within the vocalizations were tiny clucks, clicks, and popping sounds resulting in a very soothing though percussive rhythm to the woman’s voice.

“I like your voice,” Charity said and she smiled. The woman spoke again. Her head made small movements from side to side, up and down. She was apparently taking in her environment.

“Yes, this is a really ugly room,” Charity laughed. “Once we can figure out a way to communicate, we’ll need to get out into the gardens. I bet that you would like that.”

Charity slowly slipped her hand into her pocket. “Do you want a piece of candy? They are not much but I like to eat them.” She pulled out two pieces each individually wrapped and laid them on the table. “Are you familiar with this letter? The letter ‘A’?” she asked pointing to the wrapper where the candy business displayed their signature branding.

The woman was watching, at least the tilt of her hood seemed to suggest that she was.

“This is my favorite flavor,” Charity said as she picked up a piece and unwrapped the foil. She brought the candy to her nose and made a sniffing sound. “Strawberry. Mmm. It smells very good. Tastes even better. She popped the candy in her mouth. “Mmmm!” Charity smiled and rocked her head from side to side. “You have to suck it. It’s sweet. Do you want one?”

Charity pushed the second candy towards the woman. Nothing happened for a moment. Then there was a movement in the woman’s right sleeve. Fingertips poked out of the sleeve but then all movement stopped.

Charity looked down at the fingertips. At first she thought maybe the woman was wearing gloves – the same color as her necklace. Then she realized that her fingertips were covered in some kind of metal. They were more like thimbles. A tightly worn, smooth metal thimble on each finger. Could she remove them? Charity wondered.

“Oh. Here. Let me open the candy for you.” Bondage! If the woman could not remove the thimbles she probably would not have the dexterity to peel the wrapper. Charity felt a shiver go down her spine and a sudden involuntary kegel pulse deep beneath the plate of her chastity belt.

Charity unwrapped the candy and held it out in the palm of her hand. She was afraid that if she set it on the table the mysterious woman would be unable to pick it up with her capped fingers.