what's mine

chapter 1

tw: blood, nonconsensual sedation

Darkness. That's all Nathaniel saw when he opened his eyes. His movements were sluggish and his vision blurred. An unexplainable feeling of fatigue washed over him. It felt like static was in his head, the sound of buzzing endless and never stopping.

His head pounded, his body felt sore, and he felt as if he hadn't eaten in three days.

Where am I? The last thing he remembered was walking to his house after meeting up with his friends. He had taken a right by the coffee shop, had walked to his apartment complex, opened the door...Then? Then what happened? His mind drew a blank.

Stretching stiff limbs, Nathaniel slowly grew conscious of his surroundings. It was cold. He was cold. So cold. So so cold. He hated the cold.

He was laid on his side, his face pressed up against the floor. Spit had dried at the corners of his mouth. A small blanket was draped over him, covering only his lower body. His sleeve was strangely stiff.

An overwhelming bitter scent filled his nose and coated his tongue. Nathaniel shivered, hugging his legs closer to his body.

He didn't know where he was. He didn't know why was here and likely had been kidnapped. Fear set in, Nathaniel's heart racing and his chest heaving with every breath he took, but Nathaniel quickly suppressed it. He needed to assess the situation before panicking.

Something was off (other than the fact he had likely been abducted), but he couldn't put his finger on it. He rested his body onto the wall.

There was no light, no sound except the sound of his own breathing. He drummed his fingers against the floor. The echo of metal reverberated through the room. Nathaniel did the same with the wall nearest to him. The same noise sounded through the air.

Okay... Nathaniel brushed his hand against his pants, warming himself up again.

He stood on unsteady legs, leaning on the wall for support.

As Nathaniel's other hand left the ground, he felt something wet against his fingers. Curious, he lowered himself back to the ground.

Swiping his fingers across the ground, he felt for the liquid. There was a puddle of some sort of liquid next to where he had been lying.

Feeling around it, he felt where the liquid had dried, surrounding the puddle with something flaky.

But in the center of the puddle, there was still a bit of wetness, a little slimy, a little sticky.

Hesitantly, he raised his fingers to his nose, breathing the penny like the smell of the liquid. Its scent was slightly bitter, like the scent that was enveloping every inch of this place. Was it? No, it couldn't... right?

Tentatively, he brought his fingers to his lips. He stuck his tongue out, peeking out from his chapped lips. He moved his fingers closer and closer until finally they made contact with his tongue.

At first, there was nothing, neither a taste nor a sensation, nothing that could indicate what it could be, but then a taste blossomed across his tongue. The taste was familiar, the taste you would have in your mouth when you lost a tooth, when you bite your cheek too hard, it was...

Blood.

The bitter taste of blood spread across his tongue, its velvety texture coating his mouth.

Nathaniel stifled his scream. He frantically wiped his hands on his pants, rubbing them even after he knew the blood was wiped off his hands.

Heavy breathing filled the room, tears threatening to spill over.