The first indication Micky had that something was wrong was the harsh light shining through his eyelids. He was sure he had shut the blinds after getting home from the pub last night. The second, and more immediately concerning sign was the firm, insistent nudging of something into his ribs. He was absolutely sure, one hundred percent, that no one was in bed with him.

Easing one slightly crusted eyelid open, he was greeted by the horrific sight of a hand. All grimy cracked nails, and fingerless glove, reaching towards him. Shocked beyond reason at this intruder in his bedroom Micky let out what he would later describe as a manful shout to scare off this supposed burglar. Curious bystanders would have described this as ‘the sort of shriek a princess might give out after seeing a mouse in her bed'.

The man attached to the hand responded with a mumbled “oh, yer no dead then? Are yeh sure?”

As the shrieking subsided Micky finally had a chance to examine his surroundings, discovering that he was not in his bedroom or his flat at all. Instead, he was lying on a cobbled path in what looked like an alley. The mystery of the nudging in his ribs was also resolved, as his erstwhile assailant removed his tattered boot from just under Micky's armpit.

“Where the BLEEP am I?” stammered Micky

“Er, the alley behind the Hound and Tooth mate, are you absolutely sure yer no dead or dyin? Only those look like dece boots and I’d love a new pair” asked the man looming above him.

“Oh BLEEP all the way off”. As Micky looked down his body towards his feet he noticed he was wearing a pair of sensible brown hiking boots, along with a set of dark green canvas trousers and a white shirt with ballooning sleeves. This came as another shock to Micky as he distinctly remembered chucking his jeans and t-shirt in the corner of the bedroom before he collapsed in bed last night.

“Whose BLEEPING clothes am I wearing?” asked Micky. The only response he received was the slapping of boots on the cobblestones as his awakener legged in off down the alley, turning at the first corner and disappearing rapidly from sight.

“Well, that’s BLEEPING wonderful” grumbled Micky as he slowly got to his feet, dusting himself off as best he could. It was at this point something seemed to seep into his hungover consciousness.

“BLEEP” “BLEEP”, “BLEEPER” “BLEEP me with a shovel”.

“Wait, I can’t swear? Why can’t I swear”.

“What the ever-loving BLEEP is going on here?” It was at this point a door 5 meters away from him opened up. Emerging from this door was a thin young man in a slightly stained apron. He looked Micky up and down like he was something he’d scraped off his boots.

“I’m sorry sir” he spoke down his delicate nose. “You are disturbing the breakfast customers and I’m going to have to ask you to leave, or I shall have to summon the watch”.

“Wait, wait” approaching the door Micky motioned placatingly with his hands. “I have no idea where I am, you’ve got to help me, I think I’ve been kidnapped and dumped in this alley.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what or who you could be talking about. If you need help the watch station is three blocks down towards market street” said the young man as he gestured halfheartedly in the direction the earlier man had run. “But now I really must insist that you leave”.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Right, well you’ve been an absolute pleasure ma-“ Micky was cut off by the slamming of the door.

Left alone again, Micky took a second to look around. He tried to take stock of his situation to calm the panic which threatened to overwhelm him. He was in a narrow alleyway, no more than 3 or 4 meters wide. The place he had been lying was definitely some kind of trash heap, which explained the smell. The buildings on either side of the alley were made from red brick and seemed set with a thick grey mortar. It didn’t look like anywhere he was familiar with in Wellington. Neither did the rough set grey cobbles which made up the path he was standing on.

“Right well that hasn’t helped. And now I’m BLEEPING talking to myself. That’s not a good sign at all is it?” Micky felt his heart rate climbing up again and his legs seemed to give out underneath him. He slumped back against the wall of the alley. Sliding back down towards the ground, he found himself sitting in much the same position as had woken up in the first time. Trying to catch his breath and regain his composure Micky went through what he could remember from last night, maybe that would help him figure out how he got here.

He’d been out for a few drinks with the lads from the rugby club after training. Nothing too mad. He remembered leaving the Hotel Bristol at 1:00 or 1:30 am. He’d walked down to get a kebab and then hailed a cab. After getting home he had brushed his teeth, thrown his clothing, which definitely hadn’t included anything he was wearing now, into a pile in the corner. Then he had crashed out. Just a standard Thursday night. Nothing out of the ordinary and nothing which would lead to him waking up dressed in someone else’s clothes in a strange alleyway.

Several minutes passed as Micky desperately racked his brain trying to figure out something, anything, which might explain how he got here. As such, when the two men walked down the alley towards him they found him sitting with his elbows on his knees and the heels of his hands pressed against his temples.

“You okay son?”, asked a gruff voice “only we’ve been called about a disturbance in this alley. One of the taverns reported someone ranting and raving. Apparently, it was scaring off the customers.” Looking up at them Micky noticed that the two men were dressed in matching brown shirts and fairly battered-looking leather vests. They were also wearing some kind of helmet and at their waists, they had some kind of club hanging from a loop.

“Uhhhh look guys I don’t want any trouble, I just woke up here. I think I might have had my drink spiked last night, or maybe I was kidnapped I don’t know”.

“Whoa, slow down kid” replied the gruff voice, sounding a little kinder this time. “Why don’t you come with us and we can sort it all out.”

Sliding backward along the ground to create a little distance Micky answered “Uh no, that’s okay, I’m sure you guys are very busy. Maybe I’ll find a payphone or the police or something”.

“I’m not sure what a pay-phone or the police are “ the man sounded out the unfamiliar words slowly, “but we’re with the watch and I’ve got a feeling I know what’s going on here. Can you show me your left wrist please?” Hesitantly Micky extended his left hand towards the man, who gently turned it palm up, revealing a spiraling dark blue symbol, almost like a hollow sun.

“Oh isn’t that just the BLEEPING cherry on top, I got a BLEEPING tattoo”. This was one shock for Micky’s hungover, battered nervous system, he slumped back against the wall and faded back into unconsciousness.