Rescue

Illusionists are the worst. An individual has no viable defence against them.
I raise my hands to my throat, but there’s nothing to grasp at. I can’t breathe. I can’t see.
It feels like wearing a strait-jacket, or like being bound by coils of rope, only they are tough as steel and heavy as lead. I might be screaming, but can’t hear myself, because he’s controlling all my sensory perception.
Suddenly it’s gone and I fall to the floor. I can barely inhale, wavering on the edge of consciousness. Through the fog of oxygen deprivation I hear a familiar voice.