Tangled Hearts

Chapter 1: The Memory of Nothing

"In the midst of shadows, love is the light that guides us home."

Asher eyelids fluttered open, the harsh light stabbing through his pupils, making his head feel like it was splitting in two. A dull, aching pain bloomed across his skull, and he instinctively raised his hand to touch it. But when he moved, the world shifted, swaying like a drunk man's vision.

Where the hell was he?

The room was sterile, antiseptic smells clinging to the air, and the sharp beeping of machines filled the otherwise silent space. His throat felt dry, like he hadn't spoken in days, and his mouth was coated with something thick. He swallowed hard, attempting to shake off the grogginess that clouded his mind.

He tried to move his arms, but they felt heavy, as though they weren't entirely his. Shifting uncomfortably, pain shot through his body, and he froze. Something was wrong-deeply wrong.

A soft voice broke through the fog, low and careful. "You're awake."

Asher blinked, trying to focus on the voice, but the figure before him remained blurry. A woman. Sophia. She had a calm presence, though there was something in her eyes-something soft that betrayed the stoic front she was trying to maintain. Her features came into focus as she leaned closer, her lips moving but her words barely reaching him. She had long dark hair, and her eyes-there was a kindness there, and yet, something guarded. Something distant.

"Do you remember your name?" she asked, her voice gentle but laced with concern. "Where you are?"

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His throat tightened as he tried again, but it was only a dry rasp. Panic began to claw at the edges of his mind. What the hell happened?

She seemed to notice the panic in his eyes and quickly placed a hand on his arm. "It's okay. You're safe now. You've been in an accident."

An accident.

That word echoed in his head. Accident. He tried to recall anything that could explain it, but there was nothing. His mind was a blank slate. There was no memory. No flashes of a past. No sense of identity. His mind just... stopped. He didn't know who he was, where he was, or why he was here.

"You hit your head pretty hard," she continued, her voice now more soothing, though a flicker of worry never left her eyes. "You're in the hospital. We're going to take good care of you."

Hospital. The word felt foreign, like it belonged to someone else's life. Nothing about this place, about him, seemed familiar. The flickering fluorescent lights overhead, the constant hum of machines, the sterile scent of the air-it felt like he had just arrived in a world he didn't belong to.

He blinked at her, struggling to remember anything, but still, nothing. The woman's gaze softened as she stood up from her chair and approached a small counter in the corner, murmuring something under her breath. When she returned to his side, she handed him a small cup of water. He didn't hesitate. He took it from her gratefully, drinking it down in large gulps.

When he set the cup aside, his throat felt less raw, but his mind was still clouded. He looked at her again, hoping she might offer something more than just reassurances.

"Who am I?" he croaked. The words felt weak coming from his lips.

She hesitated, as if struggling with something she wasn't sure she should say. Then, her gaze flicked to the clipboard in her hand. "You... you don't remember?" Her voice wavered slightly.

Before he could ask her anything, the door to his room suddenly opened, breaking the tension between them. He turned his head to see a group of men step inside. They were tall, well-dressed in dark suits, their movements calculated and confident. Their presence made his skin crawl. They didn't look like friends. They looked like enemies.

There was an air about them-dangerous, suffocating. Asher couldn't explain why, but he instinctively knew these men were trouble.

The woman beside him stiffened. He could see her body tense, like she was preparing herself for something. The men exchanged looks, their eyes flickering toward him. And then, one of them-taller than the others, with sharp features and an unsettling coldness in his expression-stepped forward.

"You're awake, huh?" the man's voice was deep, with a mocking tone. "Didn't think you'd make it, Asher. I guess you're tougher than we thought."

Asher.

The name hit him. It was like he had heard it whispered on the wind, carried with meaning he couldn't grasp. Something was wrong. Something about these men. His gut told him they weren't here for a friendly visit.

He tried to move, but he was still weak. His muscles ached, his body refusing to listen to his commands. It felt like it wasn't his to command anymore. His arms were unresponsive. He felt helpless, trapped in a body that didn't belong to him.

"Get up," the man ordered, his hand gripping Asher's wrist with surprising strength, pulling him to his feet.

Asher winced in pain, his body struggling to comply. He didn't have the strength to fight back, but he could feel the air around him crackling with tension. The woman stepped forward, her voice trembling with fear, but also something more-defiance.

"Stop! What are you doing? You can't just take him!" she shouted, stepping in front of him as though she could shield him from them.

The man with the cold eyes didn't even blink. He looked at her, then back at Asher. "You're coming with us, Asher. No more games."

The woman looked at Asher desperately, her eyes wide, pleading. But he couldn't speak. He was too disoriented, too weak. He felt like a child, unable to defend himself.

Then, the man pulled out a gun.

Asher didn't flinch, but something inside him snapped. His brain went into overdrive. He didn't know what to do, but everything in him screamed at him to get out of here. The woman's face turned pale as she stepped forward again, putting herself in front of him.

"Get away from him!" she shouted, her voice strong despite the fear. "You'll have to go through me first."

Her voice rang in his ears, louder than the gun. He didn't know why, but it stirred something in him. He couldn't remember who he was, but he felt like he should protect her, like she was worth protecting.

Just then, the sound of sirens echoed from outside the room, and in an instant, the men snapped into action, their expressions turning to panic.

"We're out of time!" one of them hissed, and without a word, they fled the room, disappearing into the hall just as the police burst through the door.

The woman, still standing in front of Asher, was breathing heavily, her hands trembling. He couldn't help but stare at her, confusion swirling in his mind. She had risked her life to protect him.

"Why did you do that?" he asked quietly, his voice still rough.

She looked at him, her eyes soft but firm. "You're my patient. You're not safe here."

He wanted to argue, but she was right. He had nowhere else to go. He didn't remember his life, his home, anything.

"You can't stay here," she continued, her voice low. "I'll take you somewhere safe. You need help."

He stared at her, his mind clouded with confusion. He didn't want to burden her. He didn't want anyone's help, but something inside him urged him to agree.

"Alright," he muttered finally, his voice barely audible.

And so, he had no choice but to follow her. To trust her, despite the emptiness inside him.

As the woman led him out of the hospital, the door to his past remained locked-no memories, no answers. Just a name he couldn't remember, and a life that didn't belong to him anymore.

But she was offering him something-something he couldn't explain. And for the first time in a long while, he wondered if it was possible for him to trust again.