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Chapter 1

He blinks. Once. Twice. Finally, he is able to sit up. The rocky texture hurts his back. The pain is now transferring to his hands as he uses them for cushion. Where is this place? He could only remember something about a crowd gathering, a lot of talking, and the buzzing feeling that threatens to tear his brain apart. His vision blurs and dances as he tries to stand up. He settles for a kneeling position, trying to stabilize his balance. The buzzing has returned. He clutches his head, closing his eyes. Sweats drip loudly down his face and lands on the rocky ground. He could hear them all so clearly in this thick darkness. But if it is darkness, why is he able to see so clearly of his surroundings? He has no idea. He opens his eyes again when the buzzing subsides and studies the darkness once more. It is like standing in a dark room with only a small shred of light shining through the velvet curtain to guide his way. But if he is indeed in some type of dark room, why are there rocks on the ground? It seems too irrational. He tries to take a step forward. No buzzing this time. No blurred imagery. No dancing views.
The velvet curtain suddenly sways back and forth. His vision is not dancing this time. He is sure of that. If it did, wouldn’t he lose his balance already?
“Where is this place?” He mumbles to no one in particular. His voice still sounds the same. Oh good, no damage to the vocal cord.
As if that was the beginning, he begins inspecting himself for injuries. Only the vague stencil of the rocks remains on his hands. The rest are the same. His fishing clothes, tennis shoes, and no hat. What happened to the hat? No matter, he could find it later as soon as he finds his way back. Then things dawn on him. He must be lost in the woods. Did his car crash? No. That doesn’t make sense either. If it did, there would be injuries on him, right? And there are no traces of car around here. He turns and scans the views again. His vision doesn’t blur this time. No buzzing either. Though he has turned a bit too fast for his mind to register.
“Crap,” He swears. No cell phone. Where did he put it before he blacked out? Was it still in his car? No matter. If he is indeed in the woods, he wouldn’t get any reception around this place anyway.
He takes another step towards the swaying curtain. He already dismissed the curtain as being part of his garbled perception. His brain is still too groggy to project the right image for his eyes to understand. It is just the wind swaying back and forth in the middle of the night. Nothing more to it. Then his mind produces another question for him to dissect. If he was indeed lost in some woods, why did he even see those people in the first place? Who were they? If they were gathering around him when he was falling, why didn’t they just bring him to the hospital? Or did he run into a band of gangs without knowing? And they had tossed his body in the woods for the wolves to finish? But wouldn’t they have made sure he was good as gone before disposing his body?
“Impossible,” He mutters.
As his brain is working faster to decipher the mystery, his confusion also adds up. There are just too many things he needs to figure out. The most important thing is still finding his way out of the woods.
“What is this place?” He repeats the question that has been echoing in his thoughts since he awakened. It is then that he remembers to read his watch. The only piece left that could aid him in the whole process of restoration. He extends his left hand to find – no watch. No traces of the watch at all. Did he switch it to the right hand somehow?
“Rats,” He curses again. No watch either.
It is then that he decides to check all his pockets. Nope. No signs of the various objects he stuffed in the pockets. It was his survivor kit for the following days. How could he have lost it so easily? The pockets were all buttoned. It is impossible that he would lose it so easily. But then none of the reasoning explains this strange occurrence. He reconsiders the ‘robbed’ option but that doesn’t answer his lack of wounds.
Disregarding all those thoughts altogether, he marches forward, making his way closer and closer to the velvet curtain. Reaching out his hand, he tries to peel the curtain aside. His mind snaps to alertness as his hand passes through the curtain. That proves that his mind is still playing tricks on his vision since it is not a curtain after all. But how could he explain the velvety feeling he is experiencing when his hand goes through it? Impossible. There are just too many impossibilities.
Ignoring that also, he continues past the curtain. Lights finally sip through, blinding him. He reaches for his eyes and shields them. Then it comes. Static. Deafening static. He pulls back and is safe behind the curtain again.
“What the hell’s going on here?” He screams into the night.
No answer. Not a sound. Not even nature sounds that are found in the woods at this time of the night.
© Tuesday, February 15th, 2011
Posted: Wednesday, February 16th, 2011

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