Truth Stealers (Thief's Signal: Book 1)

1

The white marble cage glared back at Jag unforgivingly. He had only just woken up, only to see himself trapped in some kind of prison cell. But this cell had no doors, no windows, no nothing. Except for the walls and floor and ceiling.

So how did I bloody get here? If there is no way out, how did I find my way in? Impossible; there must be something I'm not seeing.

Jag stood up, and stumbled.

My legs aren't working?

He rose slowly into a squat, then into a stand.

There we go. I was sure I knew how to stand up by myself.

He looked down at his legs: classic blue jeans, and some cheap leather shoes.

This nondescript fashion sense is really not going to help me remember much.

Apart from that, he had just a plain, white t-shirt.

Great. More white. This could get boring.

Jag leaned down, and felt the floor. Hard and cold. He reached into the corner of the cube box, and felt nothing but a normal corner. He scoured every edge and nook and cranny - not there were many to search, and they were all exactly the same anyway. So he sat back down.

Jag rubbed his head, and felt a small lump near his temple.

What was that from? A punch, a fall, a tattoo, even?

He couldn't even remember anything, just a vague recollection of some previous family.

I have a wife, and...I have a wife?!

Jag squeezed his eyes.

Come on, it was in there somewhere. Jane? Jane. No, was it Janette? God, he had such a headache. What about her face? Surely he could remember her face, at least?

For some reason, he understood the notion that forgetting both your wife's face and her name was probably a bad thing. But it hurt so hard to remember.

Jag's limbs felt lethargic, and he had a strange burning feeling in his nose. Something dripped on the floor, and sat up.

Blood?

Jag looked up to the ceiling. There was nothing there. Then he felt something tickle his lip. He put a hand to it, and it came back bloody.

His nose was bleeding! That was called a nosebleed, right? Is this serious? Oh shit, is he dying?

Jag felt like he could be dying. His limbs were heavy, arms weak and like jelly.

Oh shit, I'm dying!

Jag's head felt like it was trying to detach itself from his neck and float away. His vision went blurry, and then black.

******