A chill was creeping up my spine as I lay there with eyes half opened. It disturbed my blissful rest and roused anger within me, for it had felt as if I had to traverse miles to reach the light of day again. But there I was, almost awake, laying on a crooked thing that was once a real bed, and staring... staring at deteriorated walls of what once was my home. But at the time I did not know, so obviously I was distressed. "What is this fucking place?!"
I did yell, not knowing at the time that it will garner attention that does not bode well. "Oh, God... What is this fucking smell?" My nostrils instantly remembered the smell of fresh air as I took in the scent of rotting and decaying flesh. I've noticed a piece of paper crumpled in my hand. "A photograph? Who is this woman?", and then a moment of sudden realization: "Who the fuck I am?"
"Wait, what the fuck? What is that sound? Is that a person? Did he hear me yell? Can you please come in and help? I'm kind of lost and my mind isn't serving me well." But that... that thing was not a human. At least not anymore. It screeched with a voice only Hell would know and charged at me at full speed and force!
It seemed as if the time had stopped. Instinctively, I dodged... but it took seconds to realize that this fucking thing, with its fucking arm of metal, had taken my left eye forever.
Blood was dripping down my face but that wasn't enough to even faze, as my mind was just a blank page. One would give up, that is true, but even in my state, I knew I had to fight back... turn this piece of shit away. I grabbed it by its decomposing head while searching for something sharp to stab that demonic face! In that instant, I heard the sound of bones breaking and splitting flesh, followed by a splatter of blood... it was all over the place. The creature stopped moving and took its final breath before dropping to the ground and revealing an ax in the back of its head.
"Are you alright, Mamafeinn? Come with me, and let's patch you up. We just have to survive, eh?" It was a figure of a man, and it could speak and breathe! Calling me by name? But he explained, it was not a name but a nick, the real name was Jean elzein, it never mattered to you he said. Long before all this, it seems we were friends. Seroxat. He only gave me his. I cannot remember, but he explained, we will exchange our names again when I am more of myself.
I am alive. And we will survive. But I just wonder, when this amnesia is gone... what will I find?