Unwritten Mythos

Feed

In the dimly lit basement, Splitter tossed the bottles into the center of the room with practiced indifference. The glass clinked softly as they rolled across the floor. Without a word, he turned and left, the heavy door creaking shut behind him, plunging the space into deeper shadow.

All around the room, people sat bound to iron chairs, their limbs strapped tightly, heads lolling as if in a dreamless sleep.

Suddenly, Fan Ye's eyes snapped open. The world around him was dark and unfamiliar. He groaned, his head throbbing painfully. 'Where am I?' he thought. The dull ache in his skull was like a vice, squeezing his thoughts into fragments.

'It feels like my mind's been chewed by a beast...'

His arms and legs strained against the cold metal of the chair, bound tightly, rendering him motionless. It was a scene out of a nightmare. His surroundings were too dark to make out clearly, but the tightness around his chest told him he wasn't alone.

'An interrogation room? No...'

Memories flooded back in jumbled flashes. A company outing, casual greetings with colleagues, and then—the white-haired man. He had approached Fan Ye with a calm smile, and Fan Ye had responded out of politeness. Then, nothing but blackness.

'I've been kidnapped.'

Fan Ye's eyes swept the room, adjusting to the shadows. He wasn't alone. Rows of figures, all tied to chairs like him, formed a circle around the center of the room. In the middle of this strange gathering, a display of colorful potions gleamed faintly in the darkness—potions of unknown purpose.

The man beside Fan Ye stirred, his groggy voice breaking the silence. "What... where am I? What's this place?"

His loud question echoed through the room, stirring the others.

"Hey! Where are we?" the man shouted again, his voice rising in panic.

A young man with glasses, sitting a few chairs away, raised his head slowly. "I suggest you keep your voice down," he said in a calm, measured tone. "If you wake our captors, they may decide to deal with you sooner rather than later."

The man frowned. "What do you mean?"

The bespectacled young man sighed. "It's hard for some to understand, I suppose. Not everyone uses their brain, even when they have one."

His voice was quiet, but sharp. "I'll tell you what I know, but only for those capable of listening." He adjusted his glasses, the lenses glinting faintly. "A white-haired man approached me in Hainan. I thought he was law enforcement, but I was wrong."

The young man paused for effect, then continued. "The moment he clapped his hands, I blacked out. Maybe it was some sort of drug, maybe something else entirely. I woke up here, bound like all of you. It's been three hours and fifteen minutes since I regained consciousness. My body's already feeling the hunger and thirst creeping in."

A voice spoke up from the shadows. "You said you were in Hainan?"

The young man nodded.

"But I was in Ha Long Bay, Vietnam," another voice chimed in from the opposite side of the room.

"Ha Long Bay?" came the response. "I was in the three Northeastern provinces of China."

The young man with glasses frowned, the pieces not adding up. "What month is it now?"

"September," someone muttered.

"And it's getting cold," added another.

The bespectacled young man looked around thoughtfully. "It seems we've been brought here from vastly different regions. I was in Hainan, someone else was in Vietnam, and another in the north. How could we all end up in the same place in such a short span of time?"