text: But when she took me home to her place, the bloody sock was a huge red flag. Red means stop. As we stumbled arm and arm up the stairs to her apartment, I stole a glance at my phone, but dammit, it was dead. She slammed me against the wall and kissed me violently, my hands covered familiar territory as I kissed her back. My heart was pounding as I absorbed the warmth of her lips, so soft and tasting like hot whiskey. She reached in and unbuttoned my shirt as she fumbled for her keys. This was a roller coaster near the top going click click click--no brakes no way to get out, it was all straight downhill from here. It had been a dull night at the bar until she showed up and picked me up. She broke away from our embrace for a second and in one smooth motion unlocked the apartment door and kicked it open. I froze for a second when I saw the bloody sock on the floor. I've never seen a bloody sock before. And yet here it was, just a normal sock saturated with blood. *Lots* of blood. Maybe it was red paint or some sort of varnish? She seemed to read my mind and said, "No, it's blood. One of the painters had an accident and had to go to ER, thank goodness for the plastic...." Maybe I watched Dexter a few too many times but clearly this apartment was wrapped in plastic and -- "Dexter, the TV show, ever watch it?" She said as she held my hand and led me inside. My head started racing and quite frankly I was feeling a bit woozy. Maybe I drank too much. Earlier that night I was sitting at the bar with one of my single friends when she approached and asked if I knew what band was playing. I said I didn't, but to me they sounded pretty good so far. She said her name was Kate and shook my hand and flashed a smile. She had a short black dress and her hair was spiky. She looked to be maybe 25 with sharp green eyes and just the right amount of makeup. I gave her a drink and we made small talk. I recognized her accent and guessed she was from Chicago, she said it was Wisconsin and was surprised I could tell. I was smitten. -- As my eyes adjusted to the gloom of the apartment, I realized that everything was wrapped in plastic. The tables, the sofa, even the walls. "Um yeah. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea and..." suddenly my mouth went numb as my legs turned to jelly. She helped me to gracefully collapse onto the plastic covered floor. This isn't good. Not at all. "This was a *great* idea", she said "The ketamine I dropped in your drink at the bar should now be taking effect, and this won't hurt a bit. Well maybe a little." She started to laugh as she hiked up her skirt and sat on my chest while casually donning a pair of black latex gloves. "Actually, this is going to hurt a *lot*". Then the lights went out and the music started.