I woke up with the Sun shining its rays directly onto my face. This was quite strange, considering my room didn't have any windows. What was even stranger, was the fact that I wasn't in my bed. Or even in my apartment.
I was lying on the cold ground, in the middle of nowhere. I stood up to scan the surroundings. Around me, a boundless stretch of nothing devoid of even a single blade of grass greeted me. An absolute silence enveloped me: only the faint blowing wind masked the sound of my own beating heart. Barren rocks prickled the soles of my feet. Only shades of grey and brown entered my eyes. Far into the distance, I could see a handful of withered trees, with a mountain range in the background.
Although the incredibly barren region wasn't welcoming, what disturbed me more was not waking up in an unknown location, but the people surrounding me. Some of them were standing, some sitting and others lying down, but every single one of them was motionless, with the same blank expression and looking aimlessly into the distance.
I was not quite fond of my predicament but tried with every fibre of my being not to think about how awful this place was and how creepy these folks were. Only after some time was I finally able to calm down and realise I was dressed in rags. I had no shoes, no pants and my shirt was full of tears. Luckily, I still had my underwear, but my body was quite battered, full of scratches and bruises.
I tried to understand where I could have possibly ended up, but unfortunately there were no useful reference points. Also, I couldn't focus, due to a strange feeling of estrangement travelling through my body. It felt as if I was wearing the wrong clothes, but the clothes were my skin. The way it squeezed my muscles against the bones was uncomfortably tight. My own pulse felt foreign, sometimes too fast, sometimes too slow. The insides of my mouth "tasted wrong" and my field of view seemed a little wider than usual. Even the way I distributed my weight between the legs was "wrong".
These sensations sharpened when I noticed that my hair was cut shorter and my body was less developed than what I remembered. I understood these flesh and bones which I was moving in were not the ones I was used to. Immediately after, I perceived something move under my skin, but strangely it didn't bother me, rather it felt natural. Warmth enveloped me and I instinctively brought my hands to my face: my muscles were squirming around and I felt my facial features slowly changing. After some time, this thankfully stopped, and my bones went back to where they belonged. Moreover, the bruises and scratches had disappeared.
More confused than afraid, I decided to leave it alone and not go mad trying to explain the inexplicable. Anyway, I was now certain that wherever I was, it was certainly not my apartment, my city or even my country. I even wondered if I was on the same planet.
While I was lost in thoughts, I heard the weak roar of a distant engine. I turned around immediately and saw a vehicle approaching in the distance. When it got nearer, it became possible to distinguish it: although incredibly noisy and resembling a big pile of metal junk, it was clearly a car and two people were riding in it.
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I didn't have to wait long for them to reach my location and show themselves while getting out of the car: they were a man and a woman, both wearing what I could only recognize as an armour made of metal plates linked by fabric, and holding crossbows with a quiver full of darts hanging on their shoulders. The man had a belt full of knives dangling from its waist, while the woman had a hatchet. The two reached inside the car and took two small notebooks, before approaching.
“How many Does (1) this time?” asked the woman with a sad expression, talking to the man who had ventured between the surrounding people.
“Still counting Johanna, but there are at least 30 Johns and Janes, and more than 20 Johnnys and Janies” answered the man.
“S**t, Charles, all these children. It hasn't even been three days, and all this people already…”
“I know, I know, but what could we expect? They went wandering around, thinking they would find only God knows what. This is what always happens, it's not like it's some strictly kept secret. We can only come here after the storm has passed and make sure no beast has spawned”
After this Charles and Johanna stopped talking and started writing in their notebooks. They were probably counting how many people were present, but I couldn't decipher what else they were taking note of. Not knowing how to react, I decided to stand still and study the situation, camouflaging myself among the unresponsive crowd. Soon after, the man passed near me while taking notes, and seemed to continue on, but suddenly stopped and stared at me with visible interest.
“Hey, Johanna, come here! This one seems a little strange to me…” said Charles with a suspicious tone. I thought he noticed my gaze following him
“Come on, let's try to make this quick! The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go back to the perimeter and eat something decent!”.
“No no, here something doesn't add up”. Charles abruptly pushed me, to which I instinctively responded by taking a step back, in order to regain my equilibrium.
“See, it still reacts! Let's bring it back with us, I'm certain the researchers will be ecstatic. We could even get a bonus!” said the man with his eyes sparkling.
“Aaaah. I don't care, you always do what you want anyway” answered the woman, clearly exasperated by her colleague.
The smiling Charles crept towards me, put his hands on my shoulders and tried to push me towards the car. Panicking and not knowing how to respond, I decided the best course of action was to resist his attempt to abduct me by planting my feet firmly into the ground.
“Oh oh, it is making this a little difficult. But I know exactly what to do! If it is still this responsive, I'm sure a little encouragement will be of help… “ said Charles with a wicked smile, while taking out one of his knives. “Now, be a good one and…”.
Before Charles could finish his sentence, I had already moved. Not particularly fond of the prospective of having a knife planted in my side, I grabbed the arm holding the knife and, surprising both of us, lifted him, made him summersault into the air and slammed him forcefully into the ground.
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(1) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Doe