"Ah! Ugh…"
It was so bright. And… painful.
Henry's eyes struggled against the sudden brightness, slowly turning the glare into a blur, but just clear enough to make out shapes.
Where am I again? This isn't a hospital…
His eyes roamed the room. Bright, luxurious, vintage-looking… expensive.
It looked fancy, to put it simply.
Then his gaze fell on what he was lying on.
It smelled clean and fresh, faintly of roses. The white sheets were soft and comfortable.
A bed.
At least better than lying under a random tree on the ground…
Someone must have seen me and brought me here… to help.
He hoped so.
But still, he was nervous and confused. He hated having no idea what was happening.
Henry slowly moved his head, trying to see if it felt any better.
The pain at the back of his skull still throbbed but had lessened significantly.
Encouraged by that, he tried to move but his body felt stiff and uncooperative. He had no choice but to stay still.
And then, he heard them.
Footsteps… followed by the sound of the door opening. The footsteps were now clear, hurried, deliberate, and loud.
"Is he awake?" a man asked.
"He just woke. Please, don't do anything yet," a trembling female voice replied.
Henry realized he hadn't even heard her come inside.
Who are they anyway?
Henry was worked up by the fact that the man sounded like he knew him or disliked him from the tone in his voice. But Henry could swear he didn't know him.
"Don't you dare give me advice. I'll handle it. Now, get out!" The man barked. Silence followed as he walked closer.
"Henry, don't act like you didn't hear! Tell me what you heard, or I'll throw you out of the mansion!" He bent closer, his face just above Henry's.
"Sir… there's a misunderstanding here. I don't know you," Henry said cautiously, his voice trembling slightly, throat dry.
The man's expression shifted. Maybe surprise. Maybe irritation. Henry couldn't tell because it was still blurry.
"Don't act a fool. Who are you trying to fool, huh?!" The man's voice grew louder, startling Henry as he then mercilessly squeezed his arm painfully.
"Ah! Fuck you! Let go!" Henry screamed in pain. His arm quickly freed after, but it still hurt.
Somehow, by screaming and jerking his head, his vision had cleared gradually.
But then his heart skipped a beat as his view got clear.
The man in front of him, red-eyed, teeth gritted, looked like he would strangle him then and there.
Henry had never felt this intimidated before.
And he was also too close, which made it worse.
Maybe the man noticed Henry's startled expression, because he moved a chair next to the bed and sat down, silently staring at him now.
"You don't remember anything?" His tone sounded concerned, but Henry sensed the concern wasn't entirely for him.
First of all… who is he?
"I don't think so. I just don't know you. I'm just… in the wrong place," Henry said, looking away.
"Sigh… what a nuisance." The man scratched his head. Henry wanted to roll his eyes, but helplessly realized something was very wrong here.
"Bring Arthur here! Now!" the man ordered. That trembling female voice from before replied from outside, "Yes, sir."
"I want to leave here. Thank you for saving me, but you are-"
"You better shut up and don't make me angrier. You've caused enough headaches for me, Henry. Also, I don't appreciate your cursing. You're just fourteen. Do you even think you're tall enough to stand in front of me, let alone cursing, that also at me?! You better keep your mouth shut altogether."
Henry frowned, now appalled rather than angry from getting threatened because did he hear it right?
Fourteen?
Who?...
who is fourteen?
Henry looked at his hands. Small, delicate, more like a child's. Definitely not his adult hands. Maybe a ten-year-old's
Panic surged.
And he touched his head next.
His hair…
It's long… not little, but...down to his waist.
He always had short hair, a buzz cut.
'What the… what the fuck?!'
Henry ignored the man and started touching his body and head, confused.
Also, there was no wound in his head.
Where he hit his head, there was not even swelling let alone a scar after bleeding like that...
What the hell is going on?
It was like he was in a completely different body.
'…Because I am… this is not me! This is some child!'
Henry tried to calm his breathing. He was terrified, confused, and utterly panicked. The realization alone was maddening.
He still couldn't get up, only shift a little. He couldn't escape. This man must not be good. He wanted something from him and he had been nothing but mean so far...
'So, this child… is named Henry too? Wow… wow.' Henry chuckled sarcastically, mind blown.
Then came footsteps. Another guest.
'Great. Who now?'
Henry watched as the mean man stood and gestured to someone else, a younger man, maybe in his twenties who smiled.
"Arthur, I think this attention-seeking little piece of shit might have lost his mind after the injury," the mean man said flatly.
"Duke, control your language in front of the child. He is your son. Either way, stand back so I can check on him," Arthur said calmly.
Henry tried to wrap his mind around this new information.
'Son?! Whose?! This mean… motherfucker's?!'
Henry looked at the mean guy who now glared at him.
'What the hell? What the hell?!'
Also… a duke? Didn't dukes exist long ago?
Henry had only read about them in history books.
But now that he look around again, the room, the clothes, the walls...they screamed "back in the days."
No way…
No. No. This is just crazy.
Henry looked at Arthur.
He was striking. He wore long grey coat, wooden-like satchel, round-rimmed glasses, precise and elegant movements. Everything started to make a little sense. Even his own long hair…
"Henry, how do you feel now? Much better?" Arthur asked, placing his hand gently on Henry's head.
"I'm okay. But I just wanted to clarify this misunderstanding. I am no-"
Arthur didn't let him finish.
"The duke is right. You've been seriously hurt and lost your memory. Don't worry. I can help you," Arthur said reassuringly. But this wasn't the help Henry needed. He didn't lose his memory for god's sake!
He clearly remembered he broke up with that cheating piece of garbage not so long ago.
So...he is completely fine!
"But-"
"Can you help him? I really need to know something important from him," the duke interrupted, urgency in his voice. Both men had now started to ignore the panicking Henry.
"Sit up, Henry." Arthur gently lifted him to lean against the bed's headboard. Ignored and disturbed repeatedly, Henry tried to think of ways to get out of this mess, feeling defeated.
But then, he was absolutely shocked when he saw a yellow light appear in Arthur's palm, curling like a rope and wrapping gently around Henry's hand.
'W-what the fuck?!'
Henry was too stunned to speak.
Is this… magic? Witchcraft?!
He tried moving away, but obviously, his body was still not so cooperative...
Soon, a comfortable warmth spread through Henry, strangely relaxing.
Then a sudden, horrible headache struck.
Henry groaned and tried to push Arthur away, but his body was numb.
And, something poured in next.
New...and...memories....
Scenes from the fourteen-year-old Henry's life flooded in, images of the mean man, Arthur, other people, scene by scene.
They were indeed memories.
It was getting way too real now...
But then, only one second it took for Henry to suddenly freeze as he, in a panic, surged throught those memories.
Because he wanted to make sure.
If he was seeing them right.
And he was...
No mistake.
They were indeed familiar.
Very...
He knew.
He fucking knew everything happened to this boy already...even before he got these memories.
'Oh my god...I know him."
He knew this boy.
It's Henry.
Henry Bryxton.
'My god...No way this is real...'