Variant | Newt

prologue

"Remember me.

I swear to god I'll get you back.

Just hold on.

I need you to remember me."

I woke up freezing cold and slightly damp, my clothes sticking to my shivering skin. A harsh wind howled as it blew through a corridor. The air around me felt musty and chilled, like condensation had stuck itself on every surface of this strange world around me.

I could see the night sky above me, framed by mountainous walls made of concrete and strands of thick vine. There was a loud, heartbeat-like pounding ringing through the air.

Wait, that's not a noise. No, that's just a headache, I realized. A constant beat of pressure against my temples, coexisting with the furious ringing in my ears like a chaotic symphony. Tenderly, and admittedly wary as I didn't know what to expect, I reached up my shaking hands and felt along my own forehead; finding the skin along my eye bruised and cut, sticky with what I can only assume to be my own blood.

Someone must have hit me, hard. It would explain the throbbing in my head and the damaged skin.

I was flat on my back, the cool earth below me made of that same concrete that towered at my sides. I pushed myself up on my elbows, finally seeing why I was so cold.

Its justified to say I was exposed to the elements, thanks to my lack of clothing. I wore brown combat boots and maroon socks, but there wasn't anything else protecting my legs, other than tan cargo shorts and black knee pads made of some sort of flexible leather. I wore a black tank tucked into those shorts; secured by a thick black belt. A thin-long sleeved maroon shirt rippled in the wind as another hard breeze ran through the corridor.

"What the hell?" I breathed out, hearing my own voice for the first time. I almost didn't recognize the sound of my own voice.

"Remember me."

The same voice from before rang through my head and the memory came with a sharp headache. I reeled to the side, squeezing my eyes shut as the voice - it was a male's voice, though I couldn't match a face to it - repeated itself in my head.

Who's voice was that? It was familiar, but everytime I seem to get even remotely close to realizing who it was, the answer was ripped away from me in a way that made a physical shock run down my spine.

As I racked my brain to figure out who was talking in my head, I realized something else.

I didn't even know who I am. What my name is, what I look like- where am I, anyways?

I looked over my outfit again. My legs have a few cuts and bruises on them, like I'd gotten in a recent wrestling match with someone - I noticed some defensive wounds on my knuckles; some small scrapes along the skin of my hands. At least I was able to put up some sort of fight. I could feel dampened hair on my shoulders too; I grasped at it to find some strands had been wiggled free out of a loose ponytail. It was clear to me, based on my condition; I was sure I had been in some sort of altercation. Obviously, coming into this place wasn't my choice. I couldn't remember how I ended up here, but it definitely wasn't by my own volition.

Next I look at my surroundings. Nothing much to it; just a long pathway of concrete and vines. That ridiculously obnoxious breeze blew through the corridor again, this time accompanied with something much worse. Some sort of animalistic, robotic squeal, unlike anything I'd ever heard before, stabbed into the silence of the night. It came from behind me and I wasted no time scrabbling to my feet.

Surely my brain is playing tricks on me, right? That sound was unnatural. No way it was real.

A second shriek echoed, this time much closer than before, confirming the sounds were in fact, very real and very dangerous.