Hexed

[Chapter 1] Name?

I laid awake. Slowly moving my hand, trying to feel where I was; mattress, sheets, metal, a railing. The sounds... dripping, beeps, a soft buzzing. And for the smell, it was just disinfectant and lavender. When I tried to move my other hand, a loud clang echoed; my attention darted to my wrist, some ring with a small chain was around it. Both purpose and name were familiar to me, yet neither came into my mind, what was that? It didn't let me move my arm! Apparently, it was linked to the railing at the other side.

When I tried to see around, only black greeted me. My free hand crept up my face to find... a cloth? More like a bandage. The only thing I got touching it was a sharp pain and my own hisses.

I sat up, but pain washed over me and forcefully laid me back down. I gave it another try, slower this time, and I was successful now. Sitting there, in -I assume- a hospital bed, a real and dangerous question formed in my mind; where am I?

A hospital ward would be the best shot, but something deep inside cried out for me, clawing and begging me to not fall for such assumptions; it's not some hospital. Deep down, that voice, the one crying out, told me things. And softly it whispered.

-'it's a lion's den'-

And that's when I heard who's -I thought- the lion, opening a door in the far left. A step inside the room was enough for me to snap my head in it's direction.

Their footsteps echoed in the room, getting louder each time. The steps were soft, barely audible, but held determination, authority. There's no way for me to say who they were, yet that little voice deep down screeched at me, hate in every word 'Kill him! Gauge his eyes out!' but why? He? Who are they?

Those questions banished when the hyena I mistook as a lion spoke.

—"Hello, do you know who am I? Remember my voice?" His voice was sharp, direct, like someone who wants something and wants it now. But I only shook my head as an answer.

—"You has been here for a while! The guys began to bet if you would ever wake up or not!" He chuckled, his voice only angered more the little voice that claimed for violence; as for me, it tied my stomach in a knot.

—"And where are we?" I finally asked him, apparently it took him by surprise, as he didn't spoke for a while.

When I think he was about to say something, someone busted through the door. Big, loud and heavy footsteps rang in the room, it sounded like it's owner was angry, out of patience. Louder and louder until it stopped just by my side.

—"We don't have time for this bullshit. You know your name? What happened before getting here?" His voice was deep, angry, impatient, yet held caution.

I studied his presence. Big? Or at least tall, his voice sounded a few heads up from mine. He was close enough to feel his tension. But not tense in an angry manner, no no no, he was... scared? Like someone standing too near a wild animal. The most curious part? The little voice fell silent as soon as he entered the room.

—"Answer us!" He grabbed my shoulder, shaking me; demanding answers I didn't have.

—"No, and let me go!"

I didn't mean to scream, nor make it sound like an order, but I'm sure as hell that I didn't mean to create a big ass spike shooting from the floor. The two other men darted back.

I couldn't see the spike, but I could feel it; from its point to its roots. It was sharp, almost scrapping the roof of the room. The voice came back, roaring happily. It began to cheer me, telling me to do it again.

A strange feeling washed over me. It wasn't fear, nor confusion; emotions that I have come to get familiar with. No, it felt different, like a hand clutching my heart let go. It was relief, but not only that. I felt like I could take over the world if I desired so, like nothing could stay in my way, I felt invincible, I felt confident.

Then the voice whispered something I'll be forever thankful for.

-'Now, stop trying to see, try to feel. Not your surroundings, your domain.'-

It was quite the riddle, but I tried. I stopped paying any mind to the now questioning voices of the people in the doorway. I insolated my attention; searching for whatever 'my domain' was. I felt nothing at the start, so I drifted my awareness around, the sounds, the smells, the textures of everything I could reach for...

Something then changed. I felt everything with clarity under my bed; exactly where the other men were standing; everything under my hands and my body. It was like energy, flowing in specific ways, that exact same energy running through the spike.
Paying more attention to the way it flowed, I found why it was like that. The shape under my hands; the shape under the hospital bed; the shape under the men at the door.

Those are shadows of the objects projecting them.

The more attention I put on it, the more I could feel. The more little shadows showed details; the bigger ones showed whole objects. I could feel everything that had a shadow in the room; even triangulate the lamp's position by the shadows's angles. This feeling... was the closest to see that I had since I woke up.

The men must have noticed. I could hear the smaller man, the one who got in first, whisper something to the other. Then he went to the wall, where the light switch was. A soft click rang and the feeling expanded to every corner of the room. Engulfed everything in that little space. The light was off.
Then once again, the man spoke.

—"I take it as you can 'see' us clearly now." I nodded.

I could sense every detail on them, even feel how their faces were, how they were dressed, what haircut they had, everything. The only thing that I couldn't feel, obviously, were their colors.

The smaller one had a suit, long hair tied in a low ponytail. A board with a sheet of paper and a pen in his left hand. He looked... happy? But hiding something. He held in a confident stand his thin frame.

The other one was, in fact, big. Broad shoulders, strong arms... without a doubt that man worked his body, or at least did a job physically demanding. He had something like jeans, a belt, a long-sleeved shirt, similar to those typically worn by lumberjacks. Short hair and clean shaven. It was fun how he tried to look unfazed, by his facial expression, but fidgeted on his place. He's anxious.

—"Can I get closer to you?" He cautiously asked. The little voice came back, protesting.

—"I think the distance is fine. Don't know who are you, yet."

—"Oh, well, he's Hansel and I'm Paul! How shall we call you?"

That question got me. What's my name? That's an answer I don't have. Digging in the darkest corners of my memory, I can't find it; to be honest I can't find nothing there. But the voice once again whispered to me, it was weak, soft, it sounded pained, yearning, but enough for me to hear.

-'Jake'-

That's my name? It certainly was familiar, almost nostalgic. So I guess that's my best shot. But ohh darling, how wrong I was.

—"Just call me Jake for now."