What day is it?
Where am I?
I woke up groggy, lying in a pile of rags and old bedding that reeks of vomit, and something else. I’m not sure what. I’m too muddled to figure it out, and it’s not my top priority.
They took everything away from me; my knife, belt, bellen pouch, and the rest. They didn’t find the paper and my pen, so I guess I’m lucky — congratulations to me!. Or, maybe they just didn’t care because I don’t know who in a hollow man’s hell took me!
I remember saying good night to Horrence and the guys at the paper. It was a late night. I’m pretty sure of that. Then I walked home. The usual route. It’s a seedy part of town, but I’d gotten used to it. I remember walking by the Last Cup. It’s a nasty place, with nasty folk. I can always smell the place before I see it. Reminds me of a few places in Tier One of Naldrin.
Somebody was leaning against the building, a tall guy. After I passed him he started following me. I remember now, though. He didn’t follow for long. He was so drunk he could barely walk and he seemed to be asking me to buy him a drink. I turned back once and he was leaning against the building again, looking like he was trying to hold it up.
Then what? I walked another block, no two blocks. I just passed Wannman’s bakery and somebody was there. Two somebodys. I think one was human, male, and the other was a woman. I think she was ushen. She was big.
They were standing at the other end of five corners, under a lamp tree, watching me. I usually don’t think much of that. It happens, and I can take care of myself. But, they started an argument. Then a scuffle. They moved up the street in my direction, and blocked my way for just a minute or two … YES! That was it! They were delaying me.
When I got back to my place, the door wasn’t shut properly. I was too tired to think about it. I was in a hurry that morning, so I figured I just didn’t get it shut all the way.
What then? I made some tea. To help me sleep.
Then what? I got up from the table to go to bed. I felt dizzy. I think I fell. There was an image of the ceiling like I was looking up at it from the floor. Then somebody was standing over me. No, two. No, three. Hoods covered the faces, damn!
And, now I’m here, wherever ‘here’ is, writing to remember and to document as much as I can. My head hurts and so does my left arm.
Voices! They’re coming!