Little Lockwood

2.9: The Original Stranger

Darkness consumed the world around him. Nothing but empty black space void of anything but trailing thoughts and memories.

That was until something flashed in the distance.

Shying away from the bright light he tried to look away. Shield his eyes from the brightness that started to burn. But he couldn't look away, didn't have a hand to shade the view of swirling colour that exploded, ripping through the darkness. Its light was like that of the sun, scorching and unforgiving as it broke the endless black and tore it all apart.

Linkin shot up gasping. His whole body felt like it was burning from the inside out. His shirt was sticking to him covered in sweat.

"Relax." Came a soft deep voice.

Every move made the feeling worsen but even still he moved his head. A man he didn't recognise was standing over him. A bowl in hand while the other moved to his chest.

Linkins breath went rapid as the man pushed his back down into something soft. The fast and thudding beat of his own heart racing in his ears.

"I only wish to help you." The man said gazing down at him with kind sincere eyes.

Amongst all the pain and trembling Linkin saw the pupils within his dark hazels shrink and expand.

It wasn't because of the attempt at compulsion, but still he found himself trying to stay down. Doing his best to stop shaking as his veins lit up his body like lava.

"Good." The man smiled before raising a damp cold cloth.

Linkin felt the coolness on his forehead that started to dull the heat in his face. If only by a fraction. But tiredness and exhaustion was overcoming him faster than he could try an fight and before he could stop himself his eyes closed.

As he slept his mind replayed the past few months like a movie. Everything he had done after crafting the emotuz fortotum playing with his former uncaring self. The things he had done to his friends, what he had done to the people he cared about. It was like he was experiencing it all again but with the wall the shut out his humanity. It made him sick to his core.

When it all stopped, when the rerun of his past few months finally came to an end his eyes opened.

Sitting up he no longer burned from the inside out. But now held a disgust that twisted inside his gut like a knife had been dug into it.

With dropping tiered eyes he took in his surroundings. A lavish looking apartment with clean shinning floorboards and cream painted walls. Finding himself on a black leather couch. Looking down he saw he was still in his cloths from the masquerade- minus the jacket.

"How are you feeling?"

He whirled making his head spin. But as he blinked through the dizziness he saw a man behind him in the kitchen. Sleeves of a well tailored blue suit rolled up as he put some food onto a plate.

"Who.. Who are you?" Linkin asked through his pounding headache. "Where am I-"

"All good questions. Both I will answer in time." The man told him. His voice was stern, but the way he spoke was as distinguished. Like some Victorian gentleman. "But you have just gone through a great ordeal and have been asleep for the past three days. I imagine you are quiet hungry."

A growl of his stomach was answer enough. Raising from the couch his whole body felt sore and he didn't hide it either as a wince escaped him. He quickly realised the room was in odd blur and focused at the same time. He had lost one of his contacts.

"Is there something wrong?" The man asked.

Linkin did his best to keep himself walking straight as he made his way over to the marble kitchen island. "Considering I'm half blind right now, with a strange man and in a place I've never been before." He groaned. "Yes. There are many things wrong."