Hidden Truths - Ethan

15 - The Confusion

I feel numb. Where am I? Am I finally dead? I can hear a muffled noise. It's coming from somewhere outside my head. A little moan leaves my mouth as I try to move and instead of ease I feel pain.

I can't be dead, but if I am, it feels exactly like before; like hell. I can feel my throat hurting. My mouth is so dried out that my tongue sticks to my gums. I don't want to open my eyes, because I am afraid of what will await me.

I try to remember what happened and it slowly dawns in my mind: A fight. Of course, it is always the same. I guess I lost badly. Inhaling the scents around me I have to wonder. Feeling the soft sheets underneath my sore skin I'm even more irritated. Am I not a captive? Do they play with my senses? If so, I rather believe the lie for a little more. Maybe I'm dreaming. I can't remember a dream that was so peaceful.

Brown locks come to my mind; a big knife with a sharp blade. I raise my arm to lay it down on my bare chest, running my fingers up to my shoulder and testing if everything's in place. Good news; my right arm is still there, even though it feels a bit numb.

Another painful moan finds its way out my mouth as I lay down my hand on my face. I open my eyes to only see my hand darkening the view. I'm definitely not dead. Hell, what a headache. It's time to find out what my new reality looks like. I can't remember when I was a captive last time. I think I never was. Was I? I wasn't, I guess, at least not since I turned. My memories are blurry and the fog in my mind only thickens when I try to remember something.

"Finally... you are back," I can hear Tristan's soft voice and I finally dare to peek through my fingers, adjusting my eyesight slowly as he comes closer to the bed where I lie. I look at him in confusion, realizing that I am not just in any bed but his. Looking around a bit more I can see why everything smells like him. I am in his room. Why?

He sits down at the edge of the bed. "How do you feel?", he wants to know but I just keep irritated looking around. The sheets that cover my lower body move along my skin and I try to figure out how I came here but feel totally disoriented.

It feels unreal. He reaches out his hand to stroke along my cheek but this time I react. I shove it away and growl grumpily. He smiles and just takes my hand in his. I make no resistance, but enjoy that he grounds me.

"How do you feel, Ethan?" asking me once more.

"Naked," I croak out silently and see his smile growing.

"Sounds like you are fine again. That's good," he caresses my hand with his thumb, before leaving a kiss on my knuckles. Getting up by supporting me with my other hand another painful moan comes out of me, but then I manage to sit up. Why is my whole body aching?

"Take it easy, the fever just went down," he informs me and I frown.

"We don't get a fever."

"You did," he says and raises up, watching over me as I struggle to get up without losing the sheet over my lower body. Perfect. That means even my body is working against me.

The floor under my feet feels a bit wonky as I try to get up in a single movement as I'm used to. I tug the sheets over my hip to make it stay there, but it doesn't work out and the sheets nearly slip down. I have to keep holding it with my left hand while taking a closer look at my right one directly in front of my nose. I instantly know why it just failed to do its job.

That happened; it wasn't a bad dream. Where there usually should be five fingers I only have two left, but at least the hand itself already started to heal. It's a shame that I wasn't able to prevent such a wound. If I'd still be in my first life I would have to live with that forever. What do I do only with a little and a ring finger? Looking down on me, the answer maybe is a fool out of me.