Aspiria was mortified. She really was aching in her bladder, and the pressure was increasing. The only hope that she had was that the people were not offering her the beaker. Instead, they seemed to be busy doing something. It wasn’t clear what it was, but they were both fiddling with something. One of the suited people walked to the far end of the room, and opened a door. Aspiria looked at it. It was dark in the just opened room, and she couldn’t make out what was inside. A light came on, and she noticed strange facilities that looked like they could be a bathroom. A feeling of relief came over her. Not complete relief, of course, that would require her being in that room—but relief none the less.
The next thing she knew, the people were both brandishing weapons! They were not pointing them at her, but they were pointed in the air. From the side, two other suited people entered the room. She was startled when she first saw them, and was lucky to be able to continue to hold herself. They too were brandishing weapons. One of them was clearly in charge. He was pointing and positioning the other people. He never looked in her direction. The one in charge had two of the other people point their weapons at her. She began to fear that they would put her out again—or worse. The one who didn’t have the weapon pointed at her walked towards her.
The suited person opened up her cell. She stood motionless. The person put his hand around the top of her arm, and began to pull her firmly, but gently out of the cell. Aspiria walked slowly, at the pace that her captors seemed to indicate. As she walked out of the cell she stared from one armed captor to another. They moved their weapons keeping them locked on her as she walked towards the recently opened door. She realized that they were afraid of her. What a strange thought. She had never seen anyone show that body language towards her. Why are they afraid of me? she wondered. She had plenty of reason to be afraid of them, but oddly she started to feel some pity towards these strange individuals.
Her urgency to urinate intensified as the bathroom approached. She instantly grew concerned that she would not be allowed to do this alone. But as she went through the door and into the room, the person holding her arm loosened and allowed her to walk in alone. She looked around and saw that they were all facing her—two of them with weapons pointing towards her. She slowly began to shut the door, but just a few inches. She looked at them for approval. No one seemed concerned. She continued to shut the door, and they seemed to accept that.
With the door shut, she looked at the contraption that appeared to be the appropriate facility. She lifted up her dress, pulled down her underclothing, and sat down. The urgency was intense, but the awkwardness and fear made it difficult to start. She remembered her thigh, and took a look at it. There was a mark, from the dart, but it was not too tender or bruised. She was relieved that it still looked fresh. She couldn’t have been under too long. She was now able to urinate, and as she did she felt a burning.