Fighting Shadows!

A Mysterious Encounter

The room was dimly lit, casting an eerie glow over the unfamiliar surroundings. As I slowly regained consciousness, my head throbbed with a dull ache and a sharp pain shot through my ribs with every breath I took. Confusion clouded my mind as I tried to piece together the events that led me to this moment.

Struggling to sit up, I glanced around, my gaze immediately fixating on the sight before me. A man, a stranger, was engaged in an intense workout routine, his sculpted muscles glistening with sweat. His chiselled features and piercing eyes held an air of mystery, leaving me both intrigued and cautious.

Summoning the strength to speak, I managed to croak out, "Where am I?"

The man paused mid-push-up, his muscles taut as he glanced at me with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "I brought you here. I actually wanted to take you to the hospital, but you were quite adamant not to go. What are you, some criminal that got a beat down?" His voice was deep and laced with hints of scepticism.

Confusion washed over me like a tidal wave. How did I end up here? And more importantly, who was this stranger who seemed to know so much about me? Ignoring the pain radiating from my swollen face and aching ribs, I mustered up the courage to respond.

"If I were a criminal, don't you think I would've been able to defend myself?" I retorted, my voice laced with defiance. "And if you thought I was one, why did you bring me here? I could have easily harmed you."

A mischievous smile played on his lips as he effortlessly pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing a toned physique that seemed sculpted by the gods themselves. My eyes inadvertently wandered, betraying my thoughts as they lingered momentarily on his boxers. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I quickly averted my gaze, my heart pounding in embarrassment and anticipation.

The stranger caught my lingering stare, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. I could feel my cheeks burning under his scrutiny, a mixture of shame and attraction coursing through my veins. It was then that I realized I was no longer wearing my own clothes, further adding to the perplexing nature of this situation.

"What did you do to me?" I managed to stammer, my voice trembling with a mix of nervousness and curiosity. My mind raced, desperately trying to unravel the mystery of what had transpired during my unconscious state.

The man's expression softened, and he approached me with caution, his gaze filled with a strange mixture of empathy and guardedness. "I didn't do anything to you," he replied, his voice tinged with sincerity. "When I found you, you were unconscious and in bad shape. I couldn't just leave you there. I had to bring you somewhere safe."

His words resonated within me, slowly unravelling the knots of fear and uncertainty that had engulfed me. Despite the inexplicable circumstances, a glimmer of trust began to form, urging me to let my guard down, at least for now.

"Relax, your clothes are in the dryer. It was full of blood. You're not staining my sheets with your soaking blood clothes," he said while busy dressing in front of me.

"I would like my clothes, please," I replied, feeling a wave of nervousness wash over me. Who is this guy? And why did he help me? He doesn't look like the kind who helps people.

The room fell into an uneasy silence as he retrieved my clothes from the dryer. As he handed them to me, I couldn't help but notice the subtle tension in his movements, as if he were guarding a secret. His striking appearance only added to the mystery surrounding him.

I cautiously took my clothes from his hands, unable to shake off the feeling that there was more to this encounter than met the eye. As I began to dress myself, using the sheets I had wrapped around my body as a makeshift robe, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes, once vibrant and alive, were now bloodshot and swollen, turning a sickly blue-purple colour. I pulled up the oversized T-shirt to get a better look and noticed the bruises forming along my ribs. The pain intensified as I tried to pull the fabric over my head, causing me to hiss in discomfort.

"Can I help you?" the handsome stranger asked, his voice laced with concern, as he noticed my struggle.

"Yes, you can start by telling me what your name is, and who you are?" I asked, my voice tinged with curiosity and a touch of caution.

He regarded me for a moment as if pondering whether to reveal his true identity. Finally, he let out a sigh.

" Blake," he began, his voice carrying a weight of secrecy. "And as for who I am... let's just say I have a knack for being in the right place at the right time."

His cryptic response only deepened my curiosity. I wanted to press further, to uncover the enigma that seemed to surround him. But something in his demeanour told me that he wasn't ready to divulge all his secrets just yet.

The cold room seemed to reflect the emptiness I felt inside. My body ached, and every movement sent waves of pain shooting through me. I glanced down at the bandages covering my wounds, a constant reminder of the horrors I had endured.

"Do you mind?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, as I extended my hand towards him. I needed a moment of privacy.

His eyes met mine, a mischievous glint dancing within them. "Love? I've seen it all. No need to be shy," he replied, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Something was unsettling about his nonchalant behaviour as if he had become numb to the pain and suffering he witnessed. It was a stark contrast to my own raw vulnerability, my wounds both physical and emotional still fresh and raw.

I clenched my fists, feeling a surge of anger rise within me. How could he dismiss my need for privacy so easily? But I suppressed the urge to lash out. My body was weakened, my spirit fractured, and I had no energy left to confront him. So, I swallowed my pride and remained silent, waiting for him to turn away.

Without further ado, he obligingly shifted his gaze, his back now facing me. I took a deep breath, grateful for the brief respite from his penetrating gaze. Slowly, I began to undress, the fabric clinging to my battered body as if it were reluctant to let go. Every movement was a reminder of the pain I had endured, etching itself deeper into my memory with each passing second.

My trembling hands betrayed my fragile state. The weight of last night pressed upon me, threatening to suffocate my every breath.

"You're done?" he asked abruptly, turning to face me before I could even muster a response. His expression softened, a flicker of concern briefly replacing the smugness I had come to associate with him. It was as if he had momentarily forgotten his role, the walls he had built around himself crumbling before my eyes.

I nodded, avoiding his gaze as I adjusted the clothes, concealing the scars that marred my once pristine skin.
I grabbed my bag and quickly ran for the stairs.

"Take care of your bruises Emily." He yelled as I stumbled down the stairs, pain shooting through my body with each step, I couldn't help but feel a mix of confusion and frustration. Who was this man, and why did he have my bag? How did he know my name? These questions swirled in my mind, clouding my thoughts as I made my way out of his building.

The fresh air hit me, bringing a slight relief to my throbbing head. I leaned against the wall, trying to gather my thoughts and come up with a plan. I needed to get to the hospital, get my injuries treated, and figure out what had just happened.

But as I stood there, contemplating my next move, a wave of exhaustion washed over me. My body felt heavy, my mind foggy. I realized that I couldn't go to the hospital in this state. I needed rest. Reluctantly, I decided to call in sick.

Pulling out my phone from my bag, I dialled Linda's number. As the phone rang, my mind raced with what I would say. How could I explain my injuries without revealing the truth? I couldn't lie to Linda, but I also couldn't tell her the whole story.

"Hey, Linda," I said when he finally picked up. "I... I'm not feeling well. I think I caught something and I have these awful headaches. I don't think I can make it to work today."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I could almost hear Linda's concern.