"Excuse Me, Sir, I Seem to Have Boarded the Wrong Flight"
Brian was tumbling as though through liquid, swirling in a vicious torrent of viscous fluid. He felt weightless one second, and heavy as lead the next. But the most prevailing factor was the blackness. Total, utter blackness as far as the eye couldn’t see.
And just like that, it all stopped. The fluid withdrew and Brian landed on cold metal. He dared opened his eyes only to have the urge to shut them again.
He was in a narrow pod, sort of like the canisters you put checks in at the drive through at the bank, but human-sized. His abductor was standing next to him, hauling him up from the floor; Brian felt totally void of muscular control. The clear glass in front of the pod slid open and they stepped (well, one dragged) into a huge atrium, sleek stainless steel everywhere, the ceiling seemingly a mile high and the walls adorned with similar pods, some holding people leaving in a spark of light and some returning from wherever they had come. But there was always people, everywhere.