The Desired Victim

Chapter 42: This Wasteland of Memories

"And . . . who are you?"

I addressed my question to the man looking down at me in horror.

He was covered in sweat, grime, and wounds. He was looking into my eyes so intensely, and so desperately. He had dark brown eyes, with tousled dark hair to match, and a faint scar across his eyebrow. He was overwhelmingly handsome, with strong and chiseled features, but I had no memory of ever seeing his face before in my life. I had no memory of where I was, in fact, or what I was doing, or why I felt so dreadfully weak. My head felt ready to explode at any moment, and toxic scents burned my nostrils. My throat felt raw from thirst. But why was I in such a condition?! What was I doing?! Was it a dream?! I couldn't remember a single detail about why I would be so injured, or who the strangely attractive man was. What was happening?!

Panic settled in my stomach.

Vomit climbed up my throat.

I had no memory of anything.

I failed to grasp a single, coherent thought.

I was lost.

"Who are you . . ." I repeated in a raspy voice, my eyes frantically darting in all directions. "Where . . . what is this place?!! What am I doing here?!!"

I try to scream. But nothing happens. No sound escapes my throat, only a small and strained whisper.

Two brown-skinned men, not wearing any kind of upper-body clothing, suddenly grab the attractive creature away from me, causing him to howl in anger. He wriggled and fought against their grasp, but they overpowered him and started dragging him towards the exit of the room.

"Evelyn!!!" he screamed as they yanked him away. "Don't let them hurt you!! Don't tell them anything!! Dammit, let go of me, you savages!! Stop!!! EVELYN!!!"

And then he was gone.

**********

I regained consciousness sometime later. I opened my eyes wearily to a young girl by my side, and she was gently patting the crown of my head with a damp cloth. She had a round and serious looking face, with skin as pale as a sheet. She had long black hair that fell down past her back, adorned with small beads and feathers of some sort. She was not brown-skinned, like the men from earlier. She looked to be even younger than I was, but she also looked to be more mature like an adult. The throbbing pulse in my head was still agonizing, and my throat burned as if I had been swallowing sand. I still hadn't the slightest idea where I was, or why I was in such a poor state. The last thing I remembered doing was brushing my hair, before I fell asleep. Or was that a dream? Perhaps.

I could only recall dreaming of the ocean, fire, birds, and chains.

I had no memory of anything after that.

Panic and adrenaline shot down my spine, and I immediately tried to move and escape. My breathing had accelerated to an ultimate speed, but the young girl held me down firmly. It didn't take much strength on her part, since I was much weaker than I had anticipated. I couldn't see anything except for the young girl and a small light, and I wondered if I had died in my sleep and ended up here.

"P-please," I squeaked. The young girl continued patting my head and holding me down, but she glanced down at me curiously. "Tell me what's happening . . . Where is this place!!? Who are you?!"

"Lomahongva," she replied quietly in a strange accent.

I blinked, my breathing still strained and frantic.

Did she not speak my language?? How was I supposed to communicate with her?! More panic filled my throat, and my chest wound tightly into a painful knot.