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Summary
"Who the fuck are you?" He tries to snap, but his tongue is heavy and the words come out all blurred together.
"You can call me Queen, Mr. Price. But I doubt you'll be doing much talking once we start."
"You sound awful confident," they slur, trying again to burn through their restraints. The wards whine and complain, trying to break through whatever is making Victor's head blur, but the cuffs still don't budge.
Queen laughs. The sound pings across the room, bright like coins from a slot machine.
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Or, Victor gets kidnapped by the worst possible person.