concept: hero in the villain’s limo, forced to drink a drugged drink because they’re going to the villains lair.
The hero had never been in a limo before.
The villain's limo was all sleek black seats and tasteful decor, along with what looked like a literal bar lining one wall.
The hero would have grabbed a glass, or several, and started hurling them at the villain's head if they could. Regrettably it was difficult for the hero to even pick up one of the glasses, let alone weaponise them with any accuracy, with their hands secured firmly behind their back. They couldn't even get up off their seat. They twisted their hands behind their back, searching for a way out.
The villain moved over to the bar instead, humming quietly to themselves as they grabbed two martini glasses.
"Such hospitality." The hero's mouth felt dry with fear, with the need to distract. "What next, are you going to ask me if I want it shaken or stirred?"
"Mm. Would you prefer your brains shaken or stirred? I can accommodate, if you really have a preference. I'm not a monster."
The hero swallowed. Their heart lurched uneasily. Was that supposed to be a joke? A threat? The silence stretched between them.
"I love cocktails," the villain said instead then, as they began mixing ingredients with a startling and showy expertise. "So many different names and variations! It reminds me of being back in the lab, you know? This one." They held up one of the glasses. "Is called a Rattlesnake. It's whiskey, lemon juice, absinthe, simple syrup, a dash of angostura bitters and an egg white."
"Apparently, or so the myth goes, it will either cure a rattlesnake bite, kill rattlesnakes, or make you see them. Delightful!”
"Me being the snake in this scenario, I presume," the hero said.
The cuffs refused to give. They bit at the hero's wrists, so who was really the snake out the two of them?
"You are quite venomous." The villain took an appreciative sip, before offering the glass in the hero's direction. "Want to try?"
The hero kept their mouth decidedly shut.
The villain smiled, and set the glass back down on the side.
"The rattlesnake is not for you though, no. That one's mine. Your venom is one of a sweeter variety, is it not? Much like your taste in drinks." They turned back to the bar, once again moving swiftly as they talked. "This one's yours. It's called Apple Pie. Vodka, apple schnapps and cinnamon liquor. Wholesome and lethal, just like you."
The hero eyed them, warily. They'd hoped, when the villain coerced them into the car, that they'd at least be able to escape with valuable information and their full faculties once they learned where the villain's lair was.
The villain sat back down beside them with an irritating grace, and held the cocktail glass towards the hero between slender fingers, tipping it slightly in toast.
The hero wondered if they could spill it over the villain's lap. Probably. It would buy time for their team. All they needed to do was lurch forward and -
"Be a sweetheart and drink it," the villain said. "Or I'm going to have to turn this car around and go back for those friends you can't stop thinking about. I don't think either of us want that, do you?"
The hero's stomach dropped. Their gaze darted between the drink and the villain. They swallowed again, and did their best to speak lightly. "Just vodka, apple schnapps and cinnamon? You haven't poisoned it?"
"No," the villain said. "I have no desire to poison such a special guest as you." They flashed the hero another smile. "It's merely drugged."
Right. Right, right, right. The hero released a steadying breath.
"You don't have to drug me, I'm cooperating. I got in the car, didn't I?"
The villain reached for the intercom to talk to the driver.
"I'm cooperating!" The hero leaned in, stomach twisting, to take a sip.
The drink was heady, sweet, delicious and...just slightly wrong. Like some haunted version of home.
"You got in the car for your friends, not because I asked you to. But don't worry. We'll work on that." The villain's hand returned from the intercom, cupping the hero's jaw tenderly, holding them steady. "All of it, now."
The hero drained the glass under the villain's watchful stare.
The villain patted the hero's cheek once they were done, and put the empty glass back on the side. They plucked up their rattlesnake, and took a sip, settling once more with a contented sigh.
"Are you sure you don't want to taste?" the villain asked. "It really is an experience. Vicious. It might knock you out if you'd like some mercy. Last chance!"
"You're already knocking me out." The hero's tongue felt thick already. How quickly did drugs usually take root? Their vision swam. "That's what drugs normally do."
The villain laughed. The sound echoed like it was coming from underwater. "Would I have caught you..." They pulled the hero down, so their head rested on the villain's lap as the world swayed. "If anything about me was normal?"
The hero's vision tunnelled further, until everything went black. They were not...unconscious, though, at least they didn't think so. They couldn't see. They couldn't...the sound of the car engine, smooth and close to silent as it had been, had vanished too. They could hear the villain's breathing, the occasional sip of their drink, but nothing more.
"Wha..." It wouldn't come out right. Nothing in their body wanted to cooperate with them. They felt the villain's hands in their hair but couldn't so much as twitch away.
They couldn't see. Couldn't hear. Couldn't feel the comfortable seat beneath their body or the aircon brushing over their skin. There was only the villain.
"Now," the villain murmured. "Do I at last have your full attention?"
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