Through the Realms

Ch 1/Preview

The first thing the girl felt was her wet hair as it stuck to her face uncomfortably like wet paper mache on an art project. She had been going in and out of consciences for the past hour and a half, and as she had more strength now she made an effort to stay awake. It was hard, really hard, her ears were ringing so loud she could barely hear the white noise of her surroundings, and her head had a constant thumping as if she had been hit in the head with battering ram repeatedly. Her body felt like an anvil; arms and legs like tree trunks, and she swore someone must have superglued her eyes close and shoved a beach worth of sand in her mouth. Continuing to lay on the ground didn't sound too uncomfortable to her in this state.

She literally felt like death, and it wasn't so far from the truth.

It took about five minutes for her to roll over onto her side and for her eyes to adjust. Afterwards she sluggishly drug herself out of puddle she woke up in. If she wasn't so discombobulated she would have gotten up, but as she sat herself up her head felt like it was spinning. She ran her hands over her face as she tried to remember what the hell happened to her. Her memories didn't seem to add up. Last thing she clearly remembered is a loud ringing noise. She doesn't remember landing, she doesn't even remember what she was doing before that. It wasn't much to go on, however, she remembers the noise came from a gun, and after giving her body a once over she was happily able to say she didn't get hit. She took note of her clothes, and was partly disgusted by them. Her back side was soaking wet because of the puddle she had the misfortune to wake up in, and her jacket and jeans were caked with dried mud and grass stains.

The ringing in her ears grew louder and she groaned as she ran her fingers through her hair which was a heavy mix of water and grease. She was trying to piece everything together but the holes in her memories obstructed  her progress. To busy herself she instead took the time to scout out the surroundings before her; however, nothing looked familiar, and there wasn't much for her to look at anyway. It was a regular city alley. There was a dumpster overflowing with garbage, a few backdoors leading into some red and brown brick buildings that looked like they could have been built in the 1930's as they had dirty windows so dark it must have been impossible to see through, and a rusted fire escape that looked like it would come crashing down any second. Looking down the alley there was a bustle of people walking by with umbrellas in their hands.

She sat there for a good few minutes not thinking of anything in particular, she just sat and continued to examine the alley hoping that she would remember something. The ringing had faded away, but she still was tired and didn't think she could find the strength to walk around as the pounding in her head was still beating like a drum, not helping her nauseated state.

No more than a minute later she heard someone clear their throat from behind her. She instantly turned her head around, cursing mentally at the whiplash, and saw a man that looked no older than 26. He had short, untamed jet black hair, black cherry colored jeans and what looked like a black racer jacket with a red lining, minus the leather. He had slightly pudgy cheeks, but his face was still rather narrow and the curves of his face were contrasted by his square jaw. His eyes were hidden by round sunglasses tinted crimson but shone an orangish color in the light of the lamp hanging off the old building above him. He reminded her of a Jim Morrison in Ozzy's glasses. And yet, he still looked like the average stranger you'd pass on the street, perhaps the one you'd sneak a second glance at, but he still seemed realitivly normal.

She glanced to his hands and saw him swinging a stick around, and began to question to herself how long had he been standing behind her.

"Mornin' there Sloth, have a nice nap?" He asked, continuing to fiddle with the stick in his hands, smiling as he found what he said humorous. "It didn't look like it was all that comfortable, just my opinion though." He mumbled, as he glanced down at her. "Ya got a name Deadhead?" He again smiled, finding himself much more funny than the girl currently did.