Nameless

Chapter 1 The Escapist

Author notes: English is not my first language, so please forgive my mistakes and awkward writing. This is NOT for profit. I don't own them. AU (as in Alternate Universe) and maybe OOC (as in Out of Character).

Disclaimer: This work does not contain any kind of medical or mental health care advice. It's just this author bulshitting her way through this story.

Author notes 2: Hi, my crazy imagination, my questionable (and very outdated) taste in music and I are back. This time we are not alone. Thanks to @SunnyAlSorna and @JJSin2020 for editing this. @JJSin2020, your advice about my crazy ideas is awsome and very valuable to me.

Author Notes 2: The song is The Escapist by Nightwish.

Chapter 1. The Escapist

The young man woke up with a start. His breathing uneven, pearls of sweat running down his forehead. His pajamas completely soaked. He jerked to a seating position on his bed.

"Shit, not again!" He said to no one, frustrated. He was, after all, alone, as always.

The red numbers on his alarm clock seemed to mock him. He was sure if they could talk they would say: yes fucker, again.

It had been a recurring experience for him to wake up at 3:33 in the morning for a year. He knew the drill by now. He could not go back to sleep at all.

Was it too much to ask? He just wanted a full night's sleep. But then again, that was the sort of luxury that only normal people had. And he was anything but normal.

He reflected on that, pensive. He was an oddity and he knew it. It didn't make him especially comfortable or happy. It was just what he was.

When they found him, he was around fourteen years old, or at least that was the age that was estimated by doctors. He had been naked, in the middle of Yading Mountains, covered in snow.

Nobody knew who he was or where he had come from. When they asked him about the situation like what his name was, why he was naked he couldn't answer any of it. They marveled at the fact he hadn't frozen to death.

He didn't have the slightest idea of who he was much less anything else. So the people who found him had to report his situation to the local authorities.

Inquiries were made, but there was no filed missing report that fit his profile, so he became a ward of the State.

It would not had been bad at all if at least he had known his own name, but then again that was the stuff that only normal people got to experience.

The rest of his puberty was spent between school and hospitals. The psychology team of the orphanage he was sent to, tried hard to elucidate what the actual problem with his memory was. Unfortunately they had no success.

However, he needed an identity for legal reasons, so the State so kindly gave him one. He was given no choice on that matter.

So he grew up without many expectations of ever recovering his past. He tried to focus on his future. He worked hard, finished school and went to college.

Due to his previous experiences and the shit load of time he had spent in hospitals and psychiatric sessions, he decided that mental health would be his chosen professional field.

But now he was starting to doubt his mental sanity... even more. When this waking-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night shit started, he also began having strange dreams.

He would look to a pair of eyes, they looked full of despair. He knew someone was calling to him in that dream, but he just couldn't remember what the name he was called was.

And then there was also that horrid sensation of falling. He felt like he was falling backwards from a very high point. Which made absolutely no sense since he also had acute acrophobia, so there was no fucking way he would go to any place he could fall from.

On top of all that, he had a creeping sensation of being watched. He felt like something... someone was lurking in the dark, watching him through his window. He used to sleep with the curtains open to be able to observe the moon and the stars from his bed when it was possible, since they weren't visible every night. Now, the mere idea of that seemed unbearable.

He felt like he was being stalked or something. But he honestly couldn't point out at any rational proof of it, maybe it was just his paranoia. This was really fucking up his mental balance.

He knew he was on the verge of doubting what reality was. He felt like what he supposed a caged bird would feel.

Adding to all that crap was the topic of his lame-ass emotions. He had watched his friends and orphanage mates feel with such an intensity he knew he wasn't capable of.

He cared about things, he liked things, he just didn't know how to LOVE something. He had never felt passion about anything for as long as he could remember.

For him, everything was nice, ok, all right. He knew nothing about jealousy or fury or even lust. His shrink and mentor, Dr. Lu Jianmin, told him that it was likely related to his memory loss.

So he was, in a nutshell, a nutcase. He was about to declare himself fucking bonkers, but hey it could be worse. He could be dead.

He was musing about all the shit he had to deal with on a daily basis when he looked up to see the time. He would be late if he didn't get ready soon.

He left his bed and took a shower. He dressed himself and styled his hair. He had a light breakfast and got out of his apartment.

He took the train to his work place. Dr. Lu had given him a recommendation to work at a counseling center, managing phone calls for people in need of immediate help. He was coursing this last year towards his Psychology degree so it was good practice.

Since he was not that experienced with real emergencies, he was placed to manage recurring callers. Those who were already diagnosed and had proper mental care in place. Sometimes, this type of patient just needed some sort of reassurance. Life or death cases were not for him to manage just yet.

This week, he had to cover for someone who took his vacation time. His usual cases and frequent callers were given to him. He took his time reading through their files, to get familiar with their fears and phobias. He was nervous, of course, but he would try to give his best.

He entered the building and greeted everyone as always. His workmates were nice in general, polite and kind. There were some exceptions. But hey, some people are just too committed to being assholes.

Arriving at his cubicle, he looked for his nametag and secured it on his shirt. He went to fill his mug with some coffee and sat, getting ready for today's calls.

His line indicator blipped. So he took a deep breath and got ready to answer. Using the most calming voice he was capable of producing, he answered.

"Counseling help, may I help you?"

At the other end of the line, an exasperated huff was produced.

"..."

"Can I help you?" He insisted.

"Where is Seoungjoo?" A very deep voice questioned.

A shiver went through his spine, but he tried to remain calm.

"Oh, he's on vacation. He will be back next week."

"I don't have until next week."

"I'm here to help you. Please, allow me."

"Who are you?" The voice at the other end of the line asked, somewhat rudely.

"Oh yes! I'm sorry. My name is Xiao Zhan."