Restituito

Chapter13.

I woke with a start. A feeling akin to someone walking over my own grave, if I had one, crawled down my spine. Blinking I looked around. The room I was situated in was dark, but I could still make out the shapes that surrounded me. A desk was shoved up against the far wall with a chair placed just to one side of it, though not pushed under. Red lights flickered in through the closed window illuminating the dust motes that swirled through the breeze caused by a ventilation shaft just over the door across from me.

My breathing was sharp, as was the pain that dug into my shoulder as I tried to sit up. My hands were held above me, chained to the wall in handcuffs. My face stung and as I tried twitching an eyebrow to try and see what was wrong, blood started to drip from a cut on my forehead. Looking down I saw that the trousers I wore were slightly ripped and covered in blood.

 It was hard to tell whether or not the blood was mine as I couldn’t feel my legs. I felt entirely numb from the waist down. I tried shifting into a more comfortable position, but the pain in my arms proves to be too much. I felt soft and …wrong. Like I should be able to resist this, to survive and withstand the pain. I felt like my stomach muscles should be harder, my arms stronger and not feel like the jelly I remembered getting from my mother as a kid. Although as far as I remembered I had never been in this situation before the feeling felt curiously familiar.

 I also felt as if my memory had been wiped. Blurry memories that were hard to focus on danced around my mind, begging to be looked at, to be recognised, but my physical exhaustion extended to my mental state and I found myself in no condition to pursue them.

My ears picked up the distinct sound of footsteps, two pairs, one light and measured and another hard and confident. The sound of keys jingling soon laid way to a door opening and the two beings entered the room. The two were easily distinguishable. One was build heavily, muscle laden arms that almost resembled tree truncks and massively broad shoulders. A proud roman nose set between two icy blue eyes. Arms crossed over his chest, he stood waiting by the door while his companion cautiously made her way forward.

This one was decked in purple. Long black hair was wound into a tight French braid and hung over her shoulder. Dark, almost black, brown eyes stared at me, trying to gauge some sort of emotion or reaction. She wouldn’t be getting much except for pain.

“You are the second one to arrive to us in this state.” She said solemnly although her eyes held a measure of curiosity to them.

“Well darn it there goes my hopes of being special.” I said sarcastically.

Tree trunks moved forward but the girl held up a hand dismissing him with a slight wave. He frowned but acquiesced to her request, turning and leaving with a word, although I could still see his shadow outside the door and his footsteps hadn’t retreated down the hallway.

The girl crouched down in front of me, her golden spear held loosely in her relaxed grip, but despite her lax hands, the rest of her body was curled into a tight spring, ready to move should the situation require it.

“What is your name?” she asked, staring at me once more.

I frowned. What was my name? Lucien? Liam?

“I am…”