Matthew, wake up. The cops are here."
Matthew looked at his friend through the opening of his large box. Matthew wore an assortment of clothes: a black t-shirt with a large smiley face on it, an oversized blue jacket now the color of charcoal, faded blue jeans and black tennis shoes. He received these clothes from the homeless shelter a block away.
Matthew grabbed all his belongings from his hiding place, and a large red sack filled with an assortment of odd items. He couldn't recall the man speaking to him.
Matthew said, "Are you also on a quest?"
"No, man. The cops will kick us out. Let's split."
Matthew didn't understand what this man wanted. He was a knight on a grand quest to kill the evil wizard. He grabbed his long stick, a weapon of formidable power, and held it against the man talking to him.
"Don't do this, Matthew. Get out of it. You’re not acting like yourself."
Matthew sensed he knew this man and these cops he was talking about. It was like staring at a wide, long corridor, seeing himself as another person. Matthew crawled out of his box. The first thing he noticed was the alley he slept in and the reeking scent of dirt and excrement. He held up his stick before him.
"You are in league with the evil wizard. You shall die."
Matthew swung the staff over his head. The man who spoke to him ran down the alley and onto the street, disappearing into the daylight.
Aha, Matthew thought. The man was one of the evil wizard's minions, sent to distract him.
A commanding voice said, "Place the stick down!"
He turned and saw several men dressed in black shirts and pants, pointing weapons at him.
"I am a knight on a quest. You cannot stop me," Matthew said.
"Sir, we have told you to put the stick down!"
"No, I shall not."
He swung the staff a few times and saw the magic Merlin had given him. He could destroy the Evil Wizard's minions. The men stayed away from him. He was ready to get out of this trap.
Then something shot at him. Several small projectiles attached to his clothes. Matthew was about to laugh when he felt a cold shower encase his body and he went rigid. He fell to the ground, writhing in pain. Black boots were in his sights. The last thing he remembered before waking in a hospital bed was the sound of sweet music twinkling, like many bells.
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***
The light was bright, almost as bright as the sun. Matthew tried to move, but he was held down on a bed by several straps over his arms and shoulders. His stench assailed his nose. He smelt like the streets, of urine and dirt and something else. A bright light shone on his face.
"Matthew, can you hear me?"
He nodded.
"My name is Dr. Johnson. Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Do you know who you are?"
Matthew looked at the IV stuck in his arm. He felt clear and knew the answer.
"My name is Matthew Carlson."
"And you know where you are?"
"A hospital."
"Which hospital?"
"Los Angeles."
"Right," the doctor said.
Somebody was behind him and he recognized her. He didn't say anything about his quest to kill the Evil Wizard. Merlin told him he had to complete this quest with the aid of his knights. Dr. Johnson inspected his arms and body and nodded to the lady behind him. He walked out.
The woman walked up to him. She said, "Matthew, we have been looking for you for months. And you have not taken your medications. You know what happens."
"I don't need the medication. It makes me think wrong."
"I read the police report. You are not a Knight of a Quest. You are Matthew Carlson, a teacher of Medieval Literature."
He knew she was right. But his mind refused to acknowledge that she was correct.
"I cannot be your case worker anymore. You will be assigned a new one."
She shook her head and stalked out of the hospital room. Matthew looked around the austere interior. The walls were bright white with no pictures and the window was affixed with large bars. From his bed he could see a police officer standing at the door. He realized two things. He had done something wrong and he had been on the run. He wondered if he had hurt somebody this time. His medication was clearing his mind, making him recall things he did not want to remember.
Matthew heard the soft twinkling sound of mellifluous music. The sound was something he had never heard before. It was so sweet and melancholy. Something flashed in his hand. He tried to stare at it but the straps held his right arm down.
He wriggled to try to look at the glowing object. It was on his finger. He thought the evil wizard had given him a poison charm. But when he was finally able to see it, he realized it was a harmless gold ring with a dark crystal attached to it. The crystal was not glowing as he thought, but twinkling in the light of the lamps. And then he realized he only had a day left before darkness would come to his lands. Matthew needed to get out.
The policeman looked into his room and Matthew stopped struggling. He sensed they were waiting for somebody to come and take him away. Matthew couldn't let that happen. He kept trying to get out of his straps but to no avail. He had to await his destiny.
Less than an hour later, several men came in, dressed in white clothes. Behind them was the doctor who talked to him before.
"Hello, Matthew, we are transporting you another facility. These men will escort you out."
The men dressed in white clothes started to unstrap his arms, wrist, and legs. They grabbed him and pulled him upwards. As they moved, Matthew sensed a tremor under his feet. The world shook. A large noise rose from the depths of the magical Bastions, just like Merlin told him. He knew this for sure. The men holding him let him go and Matthew rushed out of the room.
Matthew's feet slapped on the floor. The walls rumbled and spat and water flowed through the cracks.
One man said, "Hey, get back here!"
He ran through the hallway. The floor shook so hard he lurched to the sides, back and forth. People around him scrabbled under doorways and desks.
He ran until he saw an exit sign. Bursting out into the daylight, he saw a large wave taller than the tallest building pounding toward him. His ring glowed an incandescent white so bright he could not see his hand.