The feeling of being burned alive, an agony that seemed to follow him even after he had died. After all bodily functions had ceased to respond and mental capacity had hit rock bottom, the pain persisted, sensation of the licking flames still crawling over his melting flesh. All of the suffering seemingly melded together, becoming one larger entity, to the point where he couldn't perceive neither beginning nor end. The wounds inflicted on the young man by the monsters, with all the scratches, venom, and impalements merged with the fiery torture until it was impossible to distinguish them.

Death would have been a blessing, a perfect release from the pain of merely existing in that particular moment.

And then, the pain finally began to subside, though the heat stayed where it was.

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"Arrrrgggggghhhh!!!! Huhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!"

Taking a sharp inhale, the collapsed figure opened his eyes, dark, almost purple, red orbs greeting the world as he rapidly sat up, soaked shirt clinging to his body. With deep, jagged breaths, the young individual struggled to calm himself as more and more sweat seemed to appear from his body, his heart thundering in his chest. The agony from before had all but faded away, leaving nothing but an intense heat that radiated from his drenched frame, dripping down from his fluffy black hair.

(("Wait....black?")) The young man questioned, the first logical thought to enter his mind as he struggled to regain his composure. (("I have purple hair though."))

Nevertheless, the sweat dripping from the strands of black hair was hard to overlook, and it was all that the youth could focus on, his hues latching onto the dark locks as his breathing slowly dropped down to manageable levels. His left hand, which had previously gone up to grab his chest, greatly relaxed as the figure gained some form of composure, his earlier panic dispersing as time went on. Even the sweat and heat disappeared after a while, leaving the sitting young teen with damp hair and a soaked black t-shirt.

(("So. I'm.....alive?")) The individuals face furrowed in confusion, his hands now taking the time to pat himself, his attention shifting from his hair to the rest of his body. (("But I was in the dungeon. Death was a given."))

The youth touched himself all over, his small and slightly pale hands drifting over his chest and torso, his thighs and arms. Aside from proportional differences and lack of muscles, there didn't seem to be much of a contrast from his regular body, apart from the fact his hair should've been purple and his midriff was supposed to be riddled with wounds. The toxic venom from the King Serpents was also supposed to be circulating through his system, causing him an incomparable agony and paralysis. As far as he knew, there wasn't any known cure for the serpent's venom either.

Not that he was complaining though. Aside from some intense pain on his throat and the weak bodily feeling, the youth had little to no issues.

"I...sh.....ge uh," the figure said, uttering his first words since awakening. Surprisingly, his voice didn't want to seem to work properly, the pain in his throat flaring up and causing him to wince. Not all of his words had come out either.

Reaching up to touch his neck, the young man ran the tips of his fingers around his entire throat, specifically the spot just below the chin, where the pain had flared up the most. Shaped like an uppercase U, the figure could feel just how swollen the area was around the sides and front of his neck, almost as if someone had attempted to choke the life out of him. There was a small struggle to breathe but the damage to the vocal cords was quite different as even whispering would prove far too arduous.

After rubbing his neck for a bit, the black haired figure finally took the time to look at his surroundings, something he had neglected since first waking up.

(("Where am I?")) The young man thought internally, becoming more and more perplexed the longer he stared. (("This definitely isn't anywhere I've ever been."))

The individual was sitting in the center of a relatively small room, one he quickly estimated to be around 144 square feet. A wooden desk sat in one corner of the room, situated just beside a curtain covered window, light streaming through it, indicating that it was the daytime. Just behind him sat a Queen sized bed that took up a solid 40% of the rooms interior, a nightstand sitting just beside it with an alarm clock ticking away on top of it. At the front of the room was a long dresser where clothes would normally go and on top of that was some weird rectangular contraptions that the individual had never seen before.

(("There are other rooms in here as well,")) he thought, red hues moving from the door by the bed to the door almost immediately beside it. (("I wonder if they're locked."))

Curiosity now peaked and so many questions running through his head, the individual attempted to get up from the carpeted floor he had been sitting on. Unfortunately, the black haired youth had been unprepared for how weak his body was and almost immediately toppled back down the moment he maneuvered into a kneeling position.

(("Damn. Guess I'm weaker then I thought.")) He noted as he tried again, before failing once more. (("At least I can feel my legs though."))

After minutes of struggling without end, the red eyed figure eventually managed to rise to his feet without falling back onto his face. Though his legs were shaky, he managed to gain enough strength to move around the room in small, fragmented steps, though his breathing and heartbeat did start acting up halfway through. Once he had traversed a few feet, he quickly realized his limits and promptly plopped himself onto the neatly made bed to gather what little reserves of muscle he possessed.

"Tha.....so...diffcult," He breathed, attempting to speak once more, trying to speak through the pain. Very few words managed to get across once again, leaving him feeling strongly annoyed.

Leaning back on his trembling arms, the figure looked up at the ceiling, his head tilted back. It was then that he saw it, just swinging ever so lightly, tied up to the pristine white fan on the ceiling some 3 and a half meters up.

It was a rope.

Looped tightly to the tip of the unmoving fan, the thick rope ran down the length before stopping just out of reach. The end of the brown material was jagged and frayed, as if someone had frantically hacked at it with a knife, cutting away desperately without a care for any sort of accuracy. Due to where it ended, the figure hadn't noticed it, and once he did, he couldn't look away. He could only stare at it, unsure of precisely what he was gazing at.

(("What's that doin-"))

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Before he had time to finish the thought, he was interrupted by the sound of the leftmost door opening, the squeaky hinges alerting him to someone's presence. The figures hand jerked to his hip as he immediately sat up straight, eyes narrowed in concentration as he prepared for any sort of confrontation.

Three people walked into the room, entering the premises in a single file line.

Two of the new arrivals wore all black and donned caps with strange symbols that the individual had never seen before. Their clothes were simple and easy to understand though they also looked very bizarre at the same time. None of them held any sort of weapons, concealed or otherwise, and they both wore grim expressions, of which quickly turned into shock and surprise upon glancing at an upright teenager with a soaked sleeveless shirt. It was almost as if they had seen a ghost and it was this expression that managed to relax the teens guard as he shifted his expression to the last entry.

BAM!!

Before the individual even had time to react, he was tackled by what felt like a fully grown Draconic Horse. He didn't even have the strength to fight back or pry himself loose as he was pinned beneath the weight of the grown man that had thrown himself at the figure.

"Knox!!!! You're alive!! Thanks to whatever god brought you back to us!!!" The man said as he wrapped his arms around the youth. "Thank You!!!! Thank You!!"

(("Who the....?")) The individual pushed and pulled as hard as he could but to no avail. (("That's not even my name!!"))

Just as the black haired teen was about to let out a sound of protest, another person entered the room. The figures eyes quickly flicked from the back of his assailants head to the new arrival, a beautiful woman in her mind to late thirties, one who had tears streaking down her face.

"Did you guys need anything to-" The lady seemed to choke mid-sentence as her eyes shifted over to meet the pinned teens. Her eyes bugged and her hand raised to cover her mouth

Without another word, she collapsed onto the floor, her blue eyes never leaving the figures red ones, tears beginning to freshly flow once again. The pain that had been in her eyes quickly changed from immense pain to relief as the water flowed forth like a broken faucet.

"Okay." The figure finally said, having enough. "Can some....me whts goin n?"

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Calven Knox. "Cal" for short or just Knox.

That's the name that everyone seemed to keep calling him so that's the name he eventually decided to stick with. Though still having almost no clue as to what was happening around him or just how he had gotten to where he was, Calven was more then willing to play along with the current events. The more he listened and observed, the more he would be able to learn.

At least, that's how it SHOULD have been.

The opposite result happened.

The more he absorbed, the greater Calven's confusion became and the more overwhelmed he felt. Loads of information was thrown at him in seemingly random intervals, a smattering of details and knowledge hurled at him like unorganized puzzle pieces. He already felt exhausted, both physically and mentally, so trying to solve the mystery of his present existence was like trying to solve a complex equation without the proper formula.

From the time he was tackled by the fully grown man, a lot of things were set into movement.

The two men dressed in black proceeded to run a quick checkup over Calven's body, touching his arms, chest, and torso, examining his neck, checking his heartbeat. There was even talk about taking him to something they called a hospital, though the male and female from earlier quickly objected to it despite how hard the black clothed males pushed for it. They had even gotten into a heated argument with them for a solid minute before the other two backed down, apologizing before promptly leaving after a few more questions towards Calven such as why did he attemptted to do such a thing and if he was hurting anywhere.

Naturally, Calven played dumb, answering only questions that he knew to be safe.

Once the black garbed duo had departed, the other two went back in for another hug before one of them left the room while the other one stayed, striking up a conversation with him.

That's when he began learning everything and when everything began to seem more and more like something out of a mere story.

"Hey Callie. How do you feel?" The woman asked, sitting down beside him at the edge of the bed. She seemed nervous and tense, and the slow pace at which she spoke made it very clear that she was choosing her next words ever so carefully.

"I'm.....fine." Calven muttered, barely managing to get the words out without somehow snapping his own vocal chords. "Just.....'ired."

"Oh. Okay." The woman looked slightly relieved, her blue eyes fixated to the spot on his neck where it was no doubt bruised. "I'll let you sleep in a bit. Though, maybe we can try and get the swelling down for you first? Maybe?"

For whatever reason, the older female looked to be rather hesitant to ask him the question and even looked as if she wanted to lean away from him. However, she stayed where she was.

"Oh...Kay." The black haired youth said after a half minute of contemplation. He had no desire to fight these people in his current condition. Unless his life was in immediate danger, he decided to resign himself to their care until more information was revealed.

For the briefest of moments, the look of shock was visible on the woman's visage, though it was quickly replaced with kindness as she stood up from the side of the bed. Without uttering another word, she walked briskly to the door and exited the room. A full minute passed before she came back, this time with a rag, a clear bottle of liquid, gauze, a transparent yellow cylinder, and a small bag of ice. Following close behind was the older gentleman from before, though this time he looked much more composed.

"Calven." The man said, a smile spreading across his face. "I managed to get into contact with your highschool. They've allowed you to take a month off, so there's no need to worry about that. You can use this time to rest up and relax, maybe watch a movie or something."

(("High school? Month off?")) Calven was immensely confused about what the man had said but he didn't break character as he nodded his head. (("Still don't know what I'm doing here but let's keep it going."))

"Thank.....you," Calven squeezed out, giving a half assed attempt at a smile. "Means...a lt."

The man said nothing else as he let out an emotional sigh, leaning up against the dresser, his elbow brushing against the large rectangular contraption from before. On the other hand, the woman had already seated herself and began working on Calven's neck, dabbing at his neck with the liquid obtained from clear bottle.

No one said anything for a while. The woman simply worked in silence as she hurriedly cleaned the area in and around the swelling with the strong smelling liquid before quickly wrapping some gauze around it. It wasn't until she finally began pulling the cap off of the yellow bottle that the man finally spoke.

"I....uh...got your letter," the man said, breaking the silence. "The one you left for us. I didn't read it yet."

(("Letter? I've never even met you in my entire life.")) Calven merely stared as thousands of thoughts ran through his head, and had his vocal cords been in good condition, he probably would've already asked more than half of them. (("I honestly have no clue who the two of you even are. Though I don't think that now's the time to say it."))

"Oh." It was all Calven could think to say as he watched the man pulled out a white envelope out of his pocket and offered it over to him.

There was something scribbled on the front of the envelope, though Calven had absolutely no idea what it said. Instead of asking though, he merely pretended to glance over it before gracefully accepting it, giving the man a nod as he set it to the side of him.

"I'm gonna leave you some Ibuprofen on the nightstand," the woman said as she showed the black haired teen two white things in her hand. "Please take them, okay?"

"Okay." Calven already decided that he wasn't gonna use whatever it was that she was laying down on the table. Instead there's was one question that was eating away at him and one that he actually wanted answered at that very moment.

"Why didn't you just heal.....with magic?" Calven muttered, pointing at his own neck.

The two grown adults looked back at him, then at each other.

"What do you mean?" The woman asked, clearly confused. "Magic?"

After that response, Calven didn't say anything else, only giving them a small shake of the head. After they asked a few more questions and got no response, they hurriedly took their leave, closing the door behind them.

(("They have no idea what magic is. Act like they know me. Mention and show me things that I've never encountered or heard of. Show me some sort of writing I can't decipher.")) Calven tried to put everything together, but to no avail.

(("Damn. Guess I really did die.")) He thought as he struggled to his feet once again. (("Im already aware I'm not dreaming. Definitely not reincarnation seeing as how I can remember everything and I'm not a baby. Can't be the Land Of The Dead or The Temple Of Light. I can still feel pain."))

Nothing was adding up. Despite his mental capacity having returned to what it was before, the Calven wasn't able to fit any of the puzzle pieces together. He wasn't sure why these people acted like they knew him nor why this body and the room possessed indications of such dark events. He couldn't fathom why the two were so deeply concerned abou the wellbeing of the person they were mistaking him for while still being on guard and tense. He still had no clue as to where he was and how he had gotten there nor any idea why his hair had suddenly turned black.

Making his way towards the other door, the one that hadn't been opened yet, Calven managed to wiggle it open after a few seconds of playing with the handle.

Inside the door was actually far more surprising then Calven had initially thought.

It was a standard closet, a large one, but still nothing special. However, the innards of the closet definitely stood out.

Rows upon rows of clothes lined the racks, all of the neatly hung up and organized by set and color. Varieties of shirts and pants lined either side of the wall, hoodies and jackets were carefully hung near the back. Caps, beanies, and other assortments of hats took up the top shelf and a number of shoes took up the other side of the same shelf. Even though there were almost no clothes or brands that Calven was able to recognize within the folds of fabric, the young black haired teen was still able to tell just how expensive it all was. As weird and complex as everything looked, Calven had no doubt that getting hands on anything remotely close to this amount of quality wear would cost ten pairs of arms and legs.

Wobbling into the closet, Calven carefully took everything over, dark red hues shifting over each and every item, fascination and astonishment written all over his face. It was such a weird surprise that he completely forgot his own situation for a full half minute.

That being said, the real surprise came when he saw the mirror and when he saw just who was staring back.