Four Weeks - The Beginning

RAEON

As he lay sleeping with a weary expression on his face, Alan slowly retracted his eyelids. He still felt slightly enervated. He slowly rose up to an upright position. He was on a bed. It sat in what looked like the living room of a house–a simple, reasonably spacious house. It was provided with only the bare essentials in furniture; a place to sit– an arm chair of sort–sanother bed and a closet cupboard. It seemed like there were no other rooms. The front door was ajar. Coruscating rays of sunlight shone in through it. Alan had not the faintest idea as to where he was.

His head was still feeling heavy. His senses weren't quite as astute as they were before he was knocked out. He did, however, feel like they were on a gradual recovery trend, though he could not explain why. He got off the bed and stood up. He stood there for a few moments, examining the room. It had no wall hangings and no windows. It didn't look like it even had a bathroom or a shower, or a sink. It was an odd sort of place. Alan heard a rustle coming from outside.

'What kind of tropical hellhole am I in?' he muttered to himself.

He got down for cover, not knowing what to expect. The rustle got more pronounced, over time. Alan now had a feeling that it may have been the sound of someone's movement along a stretch of grass. Still feeling a tinge in a few places all over his body, he felt unsure about being able to protect himself from attack effectively enough. The footsteps got louder. Alan knew for a fact that he was perceivably stronger than his assaulter before the knock out. Soon, Alan grew vividly conscious of a presence that was very near the front door. In another very short moment, came a man, through the door.

'Oh, you are awake,' he said.

Alan pounced on the man.

'Yes, I see why you would react this way,' the man said, calmly.

He had spiked hair – hair that was black for the most part, but had a purple shade to it. His skin was smooth all over and the white looked marginally suffused with a yellow dye. He had a very fit physique. It looked almost like he was a woodsman and had spent much time crafting an existence among trees and woods. There was an ingenuousness about his manner that could disarm the most guarded of people. He wore tight garments – a tough vest on top of a black shirt and tight, black trousers with a medieval style belt, with an ornate buckle. He wore boots that rose up on his leg, a smidge below the calf. Alan's grip was failing. He felt conceivably sapped, now that he was trying to physically exert himself.

'You can let go, my friend. I shall not harm you,' the man said, calmly.

Alan let go. He had little choice. 'What you've been doing so far strongly suggests the contrary,' he quipped.

'Yes, please, allow me to explain. My name is Relwer,' he said. 'Whether you and I can be accomplices to each other going forward remains to be seen. To determine which, you must answer some questions'.

'Questions?' Alan asked.

'Yes, questions. Otherwise, you will be gone and I have made arrangements for that,' said Relwer, calmly.

'Gone? Gone where?' Alan enquired.

'Back to your home planet,' said Relwer.

'What, what are you talking about? We're on another planet?'

'Yes, we are. Now, for my questions'

Alan ran out through the front door to see where he was.

He saw a vast, vertically extending prairie with lush, green grass, with a vast array of closely clumped trees, going up along either side. A sun-like star gleamed overhead. The setting had crisp, clear colors. The blue of the sky and the green of the grass were highly pronounced. It was as though the land knew no pollution. Being of the impression that he had possibly been witness to some of the prettiest landscape home to Earth – that in Minnesota – he found himself at a sheer loss for words to describe the beauty of what he saw.