Chapter 1: A Rude Awakening

Day 1

I fell from the sky.

Naked, cock flapping between my legs. Screaming, wind bulging my cheeks. I broke through cottony clouds, moisture clinging to my skin. 

A calm, sapphire sea waited below, capped by a wide shore that stretched as far as I could see on each side. Beyond that, verdant lands of green dotted with clusters of houses, a web of dirt roads running between them.

It was all coming at me terribly fast.

My stomach flipped. I would have thrown up if I’d eaten anything. I flapped my limbs instinctively to slow my rapid descent. That, of course, didn’t help at all.

What the fuck is happening? I thought, no memory of why I was falling. No memory of anything, in fact.

Despite my confusion, the world didn’t slow for me. The sea was getting closer. I could make out the individual waves, foaming blades that spent themselves upon the shore and dissipated into the sand.

“Please—” I cried, but the wind caught down my throat and choked out my voice.

The water was only seconds away, and my internal prayers to whoever might be listening went unanswered. I went flat as a nail, feet first, and squeezed my hands to my sides. I drew in a sharp breath, and—

I hit the surface and drove deep into the cold, murky depths, all sense knocked free. My mouth came open in a silent gasp and brine rushed into my lungs. I clawed at the dark whorls, hands finding no purchase, and the next panicked breath only brought more water.

The current picked me up as my wriggling limbs lost their strength. I could barely make out a twinkle of sunlight at the surface, taunting me. I kicked with all the uncoordinated fervor I had left in me, but the current pushed me back down with brutal apathy.

My head struck something hard. Time bled away from me, body going limp.

*****

I woke up.

There was a surprise.

I coughed up water, curled onto my side, and sucked in a triumphant lungful of pure, blissful air.

I was content with that for a while. Just breathing, letting my head rest on the warm sand.

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Eventually, I sat, blinking salt from my eyes as I surveyed the unknown landscape. Up close, I noticed rickety buildings stood on the flat hillside above the shore. Wooden towers that leaned with age. Wizened, lonely sentinels.

I squinted up at the blue sky.

“What was I doing up there?” I wondered aloud, rubbing sand from my hair. “And for that matter, where am I now?” Looking around, I found nothing that tethered my gaze, nothing that jogged my memory.

I struggled to remember my name, but couldn’t recall if I’d even had one to begin with.

Standing, I found several sets of footprints in the damp sand, not yet washed away by the stubborn waves. Human ones.

That had to be a good sign.

I followed the footprints, hoping to find someone who could explain what the hell was going on. Glancing at the towers to my right, I saw something glint in a darkened window.

There could be people in there, I thought, turning towards the old building.

Or maybe there are monsters.

I turned away, continuing along my path. You know what, I’ll leave it alone for now.

Sudden, burning pain in my right arm caught my attention. Frowning at it, I found a section of my forearm darkening, forming a pattern. The pain intensified, drawing a gasp, as the mark grew black, standing stark against my pale skin.

The mark took the shape of a circle with an open-palmed hand inside it. The pain faded, and I hesitantly touched the unbroken skin.

What’s that all about? I wondered.

Another wave of pain brought me to my knees. Something sharp pushed against the skin below the mark, bulging it, wriggling like a parasitic maggot. I rubbed furiously at it, yielding no result.

The skin split open, a blue lump of crystal the size of a thumbnail nudging through. There was no blood. The crystal lit up with a faint glow, and the pain ceased.

“What is all this crap?” I hissed between clenched teeth, rising. I studied the little crystal. Tapped it, pulled it, gnawed it. It was stuck, as much a part of me as my eyes or my fingers.

“Man. I don’t know where I am, but I hate it already.”

The squat door of the nearest tower burst open. Men filed onto the beach, five of them, wearing heavy gambesons with only one sleeve, exposing their right arms. I was happy to see the face of other humans, even scarred, stubbly, sunken-eyed ones.

On instinct, I began to walk towards them, a huge grin splitting my face.

Then I noticed the coiled-up chains they each wore around their left arm, ending in heavy manacles.

Memories or not, I had a clue what that meant. And it was nothing good.

The group of men eyed me hungrily, no doubt already seeing one of those manacles clamped around my wrist.

I turned and ran, feet slipping in the sand.

They came after, shouting. Telling me to stop. That they just wanted to talk. That I was being a fool.

I didn’t believe them.

I hoofed it up the beach, keeping the sea on my left. I didn’t have any destination in mind besides getting away from those men. It took me a minute to get used to running in the sand, and they gained on me then. Once I got the hang of it I quickly outpaced them, their heavy equipment weighing them down.

Others came out of the towers to my right, but none seemed eager to take up the chase. The line of buildings ended, replaced by sparse forestation. Looking back, I found that the men had given up and were trudging back where they came from.

Panting, hands on my naked knees, I took a minute to catch my breath.

“This place is utterly insane,” I said. “Do I live here? What the fuck.”

With a shrug, I wandered into the forest. It couldn’t be any worse in there than with those crazies.

Could it?