Abducted by aliens

The last thing you remember is the crunch of gravel beneath your hiking boots and the rhythmic thud of your heart as you conquered the mountain trail. The summit was within reach, the sun was warm on your neck and then, a sudden, unnatural silence swallowed the forest. There was no pain, only a heavy, crushing weight on your senses before the world dissolved into black. Now, you stir awake on a platform that feels like molded liquid glass. Your head throbs with the fog of lost hours. As your vision clears, the rustic mountain landscape has been replaced by a small, sterile room that defies human architecture. The walls are seamless, glowing with a faint iridescent pulse, and the furniture if you can call it that, consists of strange, floating geometric shapes. You are trapped in a futuristic cage designed with clinical precision.