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Update 1 – FUN PARTY TIMES!!!!

	You are Anon, and you're feeling trapped. One of your so-called “friends” decided that you needed to break out of your shell and so had dragged you along with him to one of those generic parties where people drank too much and stumbled around in time to crappy music. Needless to say, it wasn't your thing, and soon enough the music was just too loud in the corner of the room you had backed yourself up in and your feet were starting to hurt. People milled about, and your ride didn't drift along with the current back towards you. You are stuck in your corner. 

	As the tide of people go in and out, you notice one person in particular cycling by you. She's a bird. Looks sort of like a crow, but you catch touches of white and blue that made for an interesting visual contrast to her predominant blackness. As you stand and sip whatever pisswater the party people had brought with them, you keep noticing her glancing at you. Nobody else has done that. It keeps happening; first with sidelong glances and then with full blown stares. Each time she looks at you, she seems predatory. You're like a bug to her, and she needs a snack. Those dark, beady eyes are seriously freaky, God damn. She slowly exhausts her respectable arsenal of glances, peeks, stares, and looks as she mills around with the other people until she seemingly has had enough and steps out of the intoxicated current. 

	Without the occlusion of writhing bodies, you can see her more clearly. She stands shorter than you, but seems to lean forwards just a touch so her head and chest can poke out more aggressively. Her beak is long and sharp with a flat bottom and gentle curve on top. Her head is a bit more elongated than a human's, with a flatter top leading from the top of her beak. Her head and rather graceful, yet short, neck are coated in an immaculate layer of jet black feathers that dip down onto her chest in an elegant curve. Down from the bulge of black feathers, the rest of her visible torso is a pure white. Wait, she's naked aside from some soft-looking black shorts. Is that normal? She has no breasts, which makes sense. She is a bird, even if she does look weirdly human. You guess there isn't much that's naughty to cover on a bird. The uppermost portions of her legs that are covered in the shorts seem like they have some compressed fuzz, but the rest of her legs are smooth, scaly, thin, and black. Her legs bend away from you, then towards you as they run into her feet. Those feet are barefoot claws tipped in sharp nails. Bird legs are pretty damn weird. She manages to walk and make it look graceful, almost alluring, despite that oddness of their anatomy and their skinniness.  Her torso looks sort of ill-defined, but you can barely make out definition through her coat. She seems slim, but with some muscle about her. There's the faintest hint of a womanly curve between her shoulders and her hips. One of her wings is partially unfurled, while the other is folded at her side. The folded one has a streak of white where it meets her shoulder, but is otherwise a nice shade of blue that you've seen on some jays. The open wing gives you some peeks at the large, white flight feathers radiating from her dark arm. A drink seems to be floating next to, and yet still attached to her wing. She ever so slightly turns her head back and forth as if scanning the room as she sidles up beside you.

	“You look like you're having fun.” she jokes. “What's your name?”

	Her voice is high, with a strange bit of reverberation. It takes a second for you to realize she's talking to you. Oh fuck, dingus, what the hell are you going to say?

	“Y-you too....” you barely mumble.

	Her laugh is immediate and startling: a trill of chattering half-crows intertwined with a conventional giggle. Her head tilts back a bit as her laughter subsides.

	“Wow, that's a nice name” The words come out as sharp as her beak and as piercing as her eyes.

	You clear you head and exhale.“That's not my name. I'm Anon.” you state with all the suaveness you can muster. 

	Hopefully that would make up for your less than stellar first impression. Nope, she's laughing again.

	“Did you come here to laugh at me?”

	You were sort of pissed off at this point. This party had been a fucking drag filled with people you didn't know, bad drinks, and now this bitch is getting snippy on you. 

	Her tone shifts away from mocking to something more genial. “Nah, you looked lonely and I was curious. You come here with someone?”

	“Yeah, a friend brought me here. Asshole ditched me a while ago.” You shift your feet with uncertainty. 

	She turns her head to the side and looks at you with one unblinking eye. “So you have a ride?” 

	“Theoretically.”

	Her eye narrows a bit. “Then I think you need another drink. My name's Mary, Anon.” 

	Mary unfolds her idle wing and snatches your left hand before she pulls you into the pulsing mass of people. Huh, so there's a hand in that wing. Now the floating drink makes sense. Her sharp fingernails push into your hand as she drags you through a particularly thick patch of partygoers to a table littered with an eclectic range of boozes. Well hot damn, before you'd only seen a table with beer. Shitty beer, at that. Mary puts her cup down on the table and sloshes alcohol from several bottles seemingly at random.

	“What's your poison?” Mary asks while still adding more and more to her drink. 

	Before you can respond she takes a sip of her rather experimental mixture. She tilts her head up, shakes it, and squints. Her beak can't frown, but it sure seems like she's trying as she opens it a bit.

	“Is that any good”

	“No.” Mary takes another swig. “Here, I'll make you one.”

	Before you can protest, your hand that's not in the death grip of a bird claw is stripped of its beer and given something new. You look at the drink swilled in the plastic cup. Brown, and not a good hue. Appetizing. You take a cautious sip. Nope. You reflexively spit out the foul concoction.

	“Hey, what the hell? Now I've got to make you a new one.” Mary's brow is furrowed as she stares right at you.

	“That was awful. Let me just pour myself a vodka and Dr Pepper™ or something.”

	“What the fuck is wrong with you? That sounds awful.” Mary looks offended that you would demand something like that after rejecting her drink. 

	“Hey, don't knock the 23 delicious flavors contained in Dr Pepper™.” You push her back slightly as you move to the table. “Let me show you how it's done.”

	“No need, here, let me.” Mary asserts. 

	Before you know it, your fucked up Frankenstein's cocktail is gone and you smell the heady aroma of Dr Pepper™ in your cup. Mmmm... vanilla, cherry, juniper, cinnamon, birch.... One sip and you're in heaven. 


	Mary guffaws. “You really like that stuff, don't you?” 

	“Who wouldn't love the unique taste experience that is Dr Pepper™?” You reply in ecstasy. “Here, try some.”

	Mary leans away. “No, no. I hate the stuff. You drink up now.” Her voice is slightly shaky, with a warble to it.

	Despite any misgivings, you quickly drain your cup while Mary pulls you back into the crowd. Fuck that's delicious. You burp a little. 

	“Well excuse you,” Mary says in mock offense. 

	She turns to look at you with a smile in her eyes. You smile back.

	The music doesn't sound as bad any more. Wait, how much alcohol did you just chug? Eh, doesn't matter. Mary begins to dance a little: shaking her hips, gyrating, doing some abstract motions with her free arm. You join in a bit more awkwardly and sort of shuffle from side to side. Mary does her trilling laugh, but there's no malice. No mocking. You laugh a bit and look at her. She's happy. You realize that you could be happy, too. 

	You close your eyes and smile. Your head spins. You open them and your setting is different. The people around you are different. The music is different. Mary is the same. She's laughing with her eyes. You slip a little. Things are fuzzy. Your feet are fuzzy. Your mind... is... fuck. You stop moving, bend over a bit, and look back up at Mary. Her eye-smile is wide and her beak is open slightly. She moves your interlinked hands to your shoulder and wraps you with her other wing. She's soft.

	“It'll be okay,” she coos. “I have you.”

	“Yyoou havvve... meee?”

	The blackness of her feathers creeps up your body. Your neck. Your head. Your eyes. 

	“I have you Anon.” 

	You are nothing. 

	You blink back into reality. Hm, no softness. No music, wait, no noise at all. Your head hurts. You struggle to open your eyes. Fucking light, ow! You close them again. Might want to stretch a bit, that always helps. You wiggle your fingers and toes. Mmmm, now your ankles and wrists. Wait, your wrists don't feel right. You turn your head and force one eyelid open a fraction. Your arm is extended straight and supported by cushions.  Your shirt is on. You shake your arm a bit, but it doesn't move much more. Your gaze drifts a bit farther down your arm. There's something silver around your wrist.

	You open your eyes fully. Oh what the fuck, those are handcuffs. Your arm is chained to a pipe. You tug your arm towards yourself. Not that much give. Shit. You try your other arm, deliberately not looking at it. Looking would jinx it. You tense your unseen arm. You pull it in a few inches and then it abruptly stops. You look over to it, and it is also restrained. You look down. Your feet and legs are splayed out free and resting on cushions put out in front of you. Your pants and socks are still on, but not your shoes. This might be cozy if you weren't chained up. 

	“Damn it,” you groan.

	There's an excited little noise. You turn towards it, and it seems to have come from a baby monitor. So you're being listened in on. You hear footsteps above you, and your vision wanders across the room. Probably a basement. No windows, but lots of cushions and some comfy looking beanbags and chairs. Softly lit. There's a closed door on the far end of the room. The footsteps trail away, and then there is the telltale noise of someone descending stairs. The door bursts open, and in comes a familiar-looking black, blue, and white bird.

	“Anon! You're awake!” Mary's eyes are brimming with excitement. 

	Mary clasps her hands together and walks carefully to a point a few feet beyond your feet. She sits down on her haunches and addresses you.

	“Welcome to my home! We're gonna have so much fun!”
	
Update 2 – REAL FUN BASEMENT STUFF!!!

	You squint and glare at her. This is not what you needed right now.

	Mary giggles. “Now, Anon. There's no need to be angry. You're safe with me in here, ya know. I'm not going to hurt you or anything; I just want to talk. Think you can do that?” She untangles her hands and they rest at her side.

	She's not going to hurt you, yeah right! Your grimace tightens further. 

	“Ha! You're so dang cute.” Mary beams and pulls over a small beanbag chair to roost on. “I love how malleable you mammals' faces are. Makes for some good expressions.”

	You immediately slack your facial muscles and put on a neutral facade over your internally boiling anger. Did she abduct you for your smiles and frowns? What the hell was really going on here? Mary steadies her gaze on you and keeps a sort of mirth about her eyes. You open your mouth to relieve the pressure of your anger.

	“Why did you have to drug me?” Instead of a gout of fury, what escapes your lips is more of a drip of sadness. 

	Mary cocks her head in surprise, and her happiness evaporates in an instant. Her beak closes shut and she remains silent.

	“S-seriously. Why'd you do that? Why am I chained up here? You didn't have to do that, you know?” Genuine hurt resonates within your words and you break eye contact with Mary to look at the floor.

	Mary remains silent, and neither of you can manage to break the quiet. You stare at a crack in the cement floor. You trace it back and forth until it loses its meaning. Breathing slowly, you pry your eyes off of the grayness and back to Mary. She's looking away from you and gently rocking herself. She looks worried. 

	“Hey,” you say softly. “I uh... need to piss.”
	
	This catches Mary off guard, and her head snaps back to make eye contact. Her worry seems to intensify. 

	“Oh! Well, I can undo you, just don't do anything stupid, okay? I don't want to have to hurt you.” 
	
	You wonder if she would be willing to hurt you. She did drug and abduct you, but that might be different from stabbing you or pecking your eyes out or something. Mary reaches into a pocket of her shorts and pulls out a key. She walks around to your left arm and grabs your wrist.

	“I'm serious, Anon.” Her voice is almost as steely as her grip.

	“Yeah, alright.”

	You're already plotting your escape. Too easy. Once she undoes both of your bindings you can pull some real CQC shit on her ass and knock her out or something. Yeah, that sounds good. You tense slightly as she pops open the first of the handcuffs. You bring your arm back to your body and flex your wrist back and forth. Mary steps back over your legs and her tail momentarily brushes your legs. Huh, she has a tail. Looks like some really long and stiff feathers extending from the base of her back. Sorta funny looking. Mary moves to your other arm and stares at you. The stare lingers as she unlocks the handcuffs. 

	“Alright, Anon, stand up.”

	You shakily push yourself out of your nest of cushions. Oh fuck, you're definitely not feeling good enough to try and punch someone out. You grimace as you stretch your sore muscles. Man, you feel like shit. Who knew that getting roofied would suck so bad? You groggily shamble to your feet and push off of the wall. 

	“Good, now the bathroom is just down the hall through the door. I'll be right behind you.”

	You take a few shaky steps across the room. Might actually be a while before you can throw any punches. Your head throbs and you clutch it. You stop dead in your tracks and groan. You feel a clawed hand rub your back softly. You turn around and Mary retracts her hand. 

	She looks sort of ashamed. “Oh, uh, sorry.” 

	You turn back around and begin your march towards the basement door. The door looks like it's made of steel. Real heavy-duty stuff. Even if you were feeling a lot better you don't think you could kick it down. 

	“Step off to the right, please.” 

	You oblige, and Mary pulls the door all the way open.

	“Great, now step through. The bathroom is on the right.”

	You look down a hall and see a door partway down it and a left turn at the end. Mary follows you down the hall to the door. You pull it open and are greeted by the bathroom. It is plainly colored and very clean. There is a small window on the far end,.You turn around to close the door. Just as you grasp the doorknob, Mary stops you by grabbing the edge of the door.

	“Anon, I can't have you going out through the window. We're leaving the door open.”

	Oh God fucking damn it. Is she that kind of pervert? Well, you really need to use the toilet. You might give her another knock on the head for this when you make your escape. You make your way to the toilet and start to unzip your pants.

	“Turn away from me, you moron.” Mary chides.

	Mary looks incredibly embarrassed, and you feel your cheeks flush. Why didn't you think of that? You sidle between the toilet and the sink and do your business. What a relief. You wash your hands. Man, this headache is killing you. You greedily drink from the sink, and you feel a bit better. 

	Mary taps her foot. “Alright, let's head back into the room. Chop chop.” She attempts a smile, but it dissipates as soon as it forms.

	Mary steps to the side as you exit the bathroom. As you walk back into your new prison, you inspect the door more thoroughly. The outward side has several locking mechanisms as well as a retractable port at about eye level. Nothing could be operated from the inside aside from the doorknob, as far as you could tell. How long had this been installed in this basement? Was this the family torture hole or something? You walk to about the middle of the room and turn around to Mary. 

	“So, what now?”

	Mary momentarily looks thoughtful. “Well, you're probably still recovering from last night. I'm going to get you some more water and some food.” She looks upwards and nods. “Yeah, that should cover it for now, unless you need anything else.”

	Some food doesn't sound bad at all. Maybe that's part of her plan, though, get on your good side by tending to you and make you attached to her. Alright, time for a hunger strike. 

	“I'm not hungry.” As soon as you finish speaking, your stomach growls.

	Traitorous sack of enzymes.

	Mary does not look impressed. “Just have a seat and I'll be back in a few.” She exits the room, latching the door shut behind her.

	Welp, might as well get comfy. You walk to the nest of pillows that you woke up in and plop down on them. Man, those pillows are soft. You sink into the soft fluff and look at the ceiling. There are some incandescent light fixtures embedded that emanate a soft, yellow glow, but otherwise it's just as featureless as the floor. The walls are also bare, but bear a more festive color scheme of bright whirls and splotches of color that are seemingly random but are overall pleasing. The room is maybe fifteen by twenty feet or so and is empty except for all of these cushions and beanbags. You settle into the pillows and close your eyes.

	Soon enough, you hear noise on the stairs again. The little viewport you noticed earlier slides open for a second, and then closes again. The door opens with Mary bearing a large plate and a gallon jug of water and you stand up out of your fluffy nest. Your notions of protest vanish as soon as you see the plate piled high with food. Mary sets the plate and jug in front of you.

	“Eat up!” Mary beams and looks at you expectantly. “These are just some leftovers. I'll cook something fresh for you later.” 

	You look down at the plate. Roasted potatoes, steamed carrots, broccoli, some large chunks of meat -maybe beef- coated in sauce, some macaroni and cheese, and two cookies. It honestly looks pretty good, but you notice a lack of utensils.

	“Hey, do I get a fork or anything?”

	“I don't trust you enough for that. Just use your hands.”

	You frown, but 	oblige. Damn, you're hungry. Yesterday didn't really present you with any opportunities to eat, and you were fueled mostly by cheap light beer. That was like trying to run a car on sugar water. You begin to shovel some food into your mouth. Mary is almost ecstatic at your hungry enthusiasm. 

	“This is good,” you pop a chunk of carrot into your mouth. “Thanks.”

	“I'm glad you like it.” Mary is beside herself with joy.

	You continue to eat, and the only noises in the room are your rather violent gulps, smacks, and chews. Damn, you were hungry. You set the empty plate down and uncap the jug of water. You drain a few hearty gulps and set the jug back down. That was good. 

	“Need any more?” Mary leans forwards a bit, tense.

	“God no, I'm stuffed.”

	Mary relaxes. “Good, good.”

	It seems that neither of you can think of anything to say, and it gets awkward pretty quickly.

	“Well, I should probably establish some guidelines for your...” Mary considers her words. “stay.”

	“My 'stay,' huh?”

	“You're going to have to stay in here, of course, and-”

	“THIS ISN'T A FUCKING 'STAY' IN SOME GOD DAMNED HOTEL!” 

	You're taken aback at your harshness. Didn't know you had it in you. Mary didn't either, and she's positively shaking. 

	You calm yourself a bit. “What I mean is that I'm trapped here. You don't seem like a bad person, but you're not acknowledging that I'm your captive, your prisoner. I don't want to be here.”

	“Why?”

	You're caught completely off-guard. “Excuse me?”

	“Why don't you want to be here?”

	“I have a life, things to do. Things I want to do, things I need to. You're depriving me of that by holding me in your fucking basement.”

	“What kind of things do you need to do?”

	“I have a job, for one. If I don't go in, I'll lose it and then my apartment.” 

	You rack your mind for a second and come up at a loss for anything else. You rarely have to deal with your family. You have no pets. No outstanding social obligations.

	“Do you like your job?”

	Hoo, fuck.

	“No.”

	“What do you do?”

	“I stock shelves.”

	Mary laughs a bit. “Not much of a career. Got any ideas for the future? Aspirations” She chews that last word.

	The truth is, you had none. You figured that you'd eventually drop your job for something that paid more, but was equally as soul-crushing and empty. Just another dissatisfied cog in the machine of life. You're silent for a bit.

	Mary seems unduly smug. “Well, what do you like to do?” 

	What the fuck do you even like to do?

	“Uuuh, I play video games, watch some shows....” Your words trail off as your thoughts scramble for more purchase.		

	You can feel the smug oozing from Mary. “Doesn't sound like you can't do that here.” 

	“Well that's not the damn point! I can only do things that you want me to do here. I'm at your mercy, and my actions are dictated by your whims! I might not do much with it, but I like having freedoms.”

	The smugness recedes a bit. “Anon, if you're doing nothing with your freedom, what does it matter?” This is no rhetorical question; Mary seems to be genuinely curious.

	You'll have to think about this one, but you put that thought on the back burner of your brain.

	“That doesn't matter! I have the freedom to do nothing if I want.” Hey, that's pretty good. You can probably stop thinking now. “I really want to leave.”

	Mary shakes her head sadly. “I can't do that.”

	“Well why the hell not?”

	“You might tell someone.” Mary gives you a sheepish look. “I don't really want to go to prison, as hypocritical as that may seem.”

	Damn right that's hypocritical.

	“Well, I'm going to go now.” Mary stretches her arms a bit. “I don't think you can really do anything bad in here, but since I don't really trust you quite yet I'm going to have to shackle you to the wall. Sit tight!”

	Mary is off before you can react, the door locking behind her. She's quickly back with a some actual shackles and a few books. 

	“Okay, I'm going to have to put this on your foot. Sit down, please.”

	“What if I don't.”

	Mary's face hardens instantly. “Sit down, please.”

	You stand. “No.”

	Mary rolls her eyes. “Anon, I hoped I didn't have to do anything like this....”

	“What, are you gonna do some corvid maga on me or something?” 

	Did you just say “corvid maga”? What the fuck is wrong with you? The pun center of your brain is going to get a major overhaul later. Mary looks just as confused as you do and tilts her head. 

	“What? Oh, never mind.” 

	Mary drops the books and advances menacingly with the shackles. She doesn't look so tough, you can take her. You drop into a fighting stance, or at least what you think one would look like. You scuttle like a mentally disabled crab and make some threatening hand motions. Mary is definitely not threatened as she fluidly withdraws something from her pocket and lunges at you with it.

	BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT

	Shit.

	The stun gun makes contact with your neck. The initial contact is pure pain. A second later and you're  on the ground. You feel nothing but utter pain as every muscle in your body violently contracts at the same time. Another second. Every part of you is cramping and twitching and you can hardly draw a single shaky breath. Mary withdraws the stun gun. 

	You faintly hear Mary above you. “I really didn't like doing that, Anon. Don't make me do it again. Please.” There's some actual remorse in there.

While you're flopping on the floor, Mary steps over you and fits the legcuff over your ankle and then deftly secures it to one of the pipes on the wall. Why the fuck are there two pipes running parallel on the outside of that wall, anyways? The intense muscle cramps are just barely fading, and you groan. Mary goes back to where she dropped the books and picks them and the jug of water before dropping them next to your limp body.

	“Uuuuuuuurgh,” you groan.

	“Anon, I'm leaving you here with these while I go out for a bit.”

	You manage a noise that sounds like “okay.” Mary leaves the room, pausing to pick up your plate, and locks the door. You resign yourself to the hard concrete floor. It embraces you with its cold flatness. The door opens again. Something bonks you on the head.

	“Almost forgot that. Bye!”

	You grasp around your head and pick up the object. An empty gallon jug. Charming. You flop yourself backwards onto the pillows and close your eyes. That wasn't very fun.