Blurriness filled my vision from my direct line of sight and into the corners of my peripherals. Things were hazy and unclear; my senses were suppressed, but while moving my sore, tender muscles, things became apparent. As my vision cleared and feeling was regained into my limbs, I scanned the unfamiliar room I awoke in. It was a dark and dingy shed. The wall’s discolored paint was chipping away into tiny pieces that would fall onto the rotted wooden floorboards where weeds seeped through crevices.
Everything was saturated in the smell of mold and mildew; it made my nose cringe up. My body was strewn across the floor along my stomach, but from my uncomfortable position I spotted an old wooden door across from me. I crawled to it helplessly, feeling as if it was miles away. In my struggle to inch closer, a surprising kick to my ribcage sent be back to a limp, fetal position. It wasn’t a single kick. No, it was profuse feeling of vengeful shoes attacking my sides. When I tried to retaliate, I realized my hands were tightly bound behind my back.
My head was shielded the whole time, but as the kicking subsided I emerged from my cocoon and lifted myself to find a wall to slouch over. Distress racked my body. I hesitated to find the face of the stranger who attacked me, but I swallowed my fear and looked up, finding a pair of violent, brown, leather shoes leading up to a man.
A tall, muscular man dressed in clean, unbroken clothes – an odd sight these days – stood before me. He wore a charcoal gray suit that looked well out of my price range and wore it with a good posture, stern expression, and a tall head. I studied his face with wide eyes. His skin was smooth and fair, not a single scar or bruise along it, and his eyes were a bright hazel similar to mine that was complemented by locks of dark hair that fell against it.
I had never seen this man before, but the wrathful glare he held with me told me that he knew who I was.
“Hello,” he murmured. It was all he managed to say after his brutal attack on me.
“Who are you? Where am I?” I questioned.
He inched closer, taking slow, intimidating steps. If I backed any further away from him I would’ve fallen through the wall I leaned against. He saw the horror written on my face, now caked in blood and dirt, and he smirked. From that devilish smirk came a wicked snicker, giving me a cold shudder.
“You should know who I am by now, considering you’ve been searching for me your whole life. I’d at least expect you to be a little happy to see me. You really have no idea who I am?”
My tired eyes further examined his features, all of which were strikingly similar to mine. My mouth dropped a little, creating a small gap between my quivering lips as the identity of the stranger slowly became known.
“Seth?”
YOU ARE READING
Never Look Back: A New Dawn
RomantikIf you could stop the world from being blown to oblivion, would you? Ryan McCoy is a killer; a killer who can look into the eyes of his victims and not feel the slightest bit of remorse. Taking lives is something he's spent years committing himself...