Chapter Text
He woke with a start, a gasp torn from a faded scream leaking through from a nightmare he couldn’t remember.
“Pathetic…” a familiar voice hissed from a shadowy corner.
That voice… Why did he recognize that voice?
He could make out two figures in the dim light. One was a tall young man with broad shoulders. His face continually shifted and flickered like a candle’s flame in between distinctly separate but familiar faces he couldn’t name. Both faces, however, looked coldly upon him with heavy set brows and deep set eyes. The first face had warm brown eyes and a fuller complexion while the second had deep, ocean blue eyes, and pale, sunken cheeks. He wore dark, drab robes with golden vambraces and a set of dangling gold earrings.
The other was a peerlessly handsome young man with sharp, elegant features. His robes were white and pristine, patterned with waves and embroidered in blue and silver. The only odd thing about him was that his head and neck were titled a bit strangely.
The broad figure leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, disapproving scowl across his ever-shifting face. The other was warily stepping closer.
He flinched back, but noticed his hands were manacled above his head, iron digging in painfully to his wrists. He sucked in a sharp breath, feeling himself begin to panic.
“You’re losing it already,” the tall, broad figure said, voice low and sharp. “You’ll never make it out at this rate.”
The man in white and blue moved closer still, but his voice was softer, though a bit strained and cautious, “It’s alright, didi. You’re scared. That’s completely normal.”
He swallowed, garnering courage. “Who… Who are you?”
The figure against the wall spoke before the closer one could give an answer.
“We’re not real. People you thought you knew,” he explained ominously, face gleaming dark and intense. “But you didn’t know us. Not really.”
The closer man’s smile was fraught with sorrow. “This one is the shadow of the man you most admired.”
He tried to take all this new information in. He felt like he should recognize these people, but he didn’t. Their voices sounded so familiar, so comforting despite the circumstances.
“We won’t let you forget,” the broad figure said.
“Even if you want to,” lamented the second.
He frowned, trying to make sense of it all. Except, he realized he couldn’t even remember his own name, or anything about himself. How he ended up here, why he was chained… Everything was a complete mystery.
“Who am I? Why am I here? Why can’t I remember anything?” he asked the shades.
“Some things you don’t want to remember, others you’re not ready for,” the elegant man with the sweet voice said, crouching down. “Caught in between what was and what must be.”
“Can you tell me what happened? How I ended up here?”
The other figure stepped out from the wall and circled around front. “You were broken here. We all were. In this place,” he said, face flickering in between the two different people with every word he spoke.
The man in white reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, comforting him. His head awkwardly titled to the other side and the skin stretched strangely over his neck bone, like with any pressure it would fall off.
His chest tightened, biting back tears. “How… How can I fix it? Fix myself? Remember?”
“Maybe you can’t,” the broad figure snapped. “Maybe you were meant to break.”
A delicate hand gently squeezed his shoulder, the owner offering a sorrowful smile. “Hold on to what little you have, didi. It’s all you have left.”
“And don’t panic.”
The figures faded into the shadows, leaving him all alone. In what little light he could see, he appeared to be in a stone room. He could hear sounds of the sea in the distance. Water dripped intermittently all around.
He assessed his body first of all. His throat ached, scratchy and ragged. Behind his eyes festered a burning headache. His legs were a little numb, but only because of his strange sitting position. His wrists stung and shoulders ached from the manacles holding his arms above his head. But otherwise, he felt physically fine. Nothing seemed to be broken.
He did, however, feel completely filthy. There were specks of what he hoped was dirt or mud all over his robes and face, but there was no looking glass to see what it really was. His once-white robes were slightly torn around the edges, but he didn’t seem to have been tortured or disrobed yet.
This was a good sign, he figured. Maybe he was being held for ransom or something?
Usually with amnesia, there was some trauma to the head, but his burning headache didn’t appear to be from some blunt force, but like a gnawing behind his eyes.
“Think, what else can cause amnesia?” the harsh voice of the broader figure voice behind his ear suddenly.
He gasped, startled by the abrupt sound. “I… I don’t know!” he stammered.
“Try.”
“Maybe poison…? Or a curse?”
“Not quite,” the other, softer voice called out. “Keep trying to remember. Anything will do.”
“A ghost or a spirit playing tricks?” he sounded, desperately trying to come up with any explanation.
“You’re getting closer.”
Nervous, frustrated laughter leaked out of his mouth. “If you’re not going to help or give answers, then why are you even here?”
Neither replied or appeared before him.
Hold it together. Keeping a clam and a level head is usually how one ends up keeping their head in situations such as these, he thought, trying to calm his racing thoughts.
His heart burned thinking that for some reason. Unconsciously tears started prickling in the corners of his eyes, but he shook his head and forced all the anxieties swirling around his body to quiet for now.
The first order of business was escaping the manacles. Figuring out who chained him up and why was far less pressing.
“Maybe he’s just holding you here for someone to come find,” the softer, elegant voice mused aloud, walking into his line of sight. “Maybe he’s finally going to take it from you… Maybe—”
“Maybe you’re deluding yourself,” the other voice interrupted, stepping into the other figure’s way, face slipping briefly into a horrific and dangerous expression. “Nothing in your life was real. None of us are real.”
His heart pounded. These spirits, or whatever they were, were not helping him stay calm at all.
“Stop,” the elegant figure chided, holding out his hand dismissively. Turning back to him, he said soothingly, “Don’t listen to that one. Just breathe. It will be alright.”
A sudden drip echoed through the damp, tense silence, sharper, punctuating the very air.
Footsteps shuffled hesitantly from the darkness beyond the room.
His gaze shifted in between the two spirits who peered to look towards the entrance.
“Someone’s coming,” observed the elegant man in white.
“Be wary. Trust no one,” the other cautioned, eyes narrowing dangerously.
The unhurried footsteps grew closer and suddenly a flickering candlelight wavered in the gloom. As the light hit his eyes, the shades vanished.
He briefly considered calling out to the person at the end of the hall. But what if it was his captor? Or what if it really was someone there to help?
From the shadows emerged a boy, pale as moonlight, soaked black hair sticking to his gaunt face. His clothes hung in tatters, also dripped wet as he walked closer. Gnarly barnacles crusted like dark jewels into his skin and a patch of flesh dangled limply by threats of his cheek, exposing a row of yelling molars.
A water ghoul.
He swallowed audibly and bristled in the manacles, trying to scoot further away on instinct.
The boy’s yellowy-bloodshot eyes met his, but there was no malice or ferocity in them.
Without a word of explanation, the ghoul set down the candle on the cold stone floor and bent to retrieve a wood bucket. A ladle rested inside. He scooped up a trembling portion of water and held it out.
He turned his head away from the ghoul, trying to refuse.
“Water… for you…” he said, in a strained gurgling rasp. “Drink.”
Well, perhaps he was a bit thirsty…
His throat felt incredibly dry, despite the gnawing fear. He hesitated for a moment before opening his mouth.
The water spilled clumsily down his chin and soaked the front of his already ruined robes.
A voice hissed in his ear, sharp and biting, “Fool! You don’t even know if it’s poison!”
He coughed, swallowing wrong, and unconsciously tried to move his hand to wipe his chin, but got jerked back by the chains.
The other voice spoke, softer, “No, he needs you alive. He wouldn’t poison you. He still needs something from you.”
He took a moment to catch his breath.
“Do… Do you know who I am?” he decided to ask, voice crackling with fear. “Why I’m here? What happened to me? I… I can’t remember anything.”
The ghoul’s bloodshot eyes flickered with something like surprise. He paused, then shook his head slowly, the loose skin of his cheek flapping at the motion.
Silence stretched for a while as he contemplated his next steps.
The water ghoul fished out something from his sleeve and held it out to his mouth, pressing it inside.
He opened up his mouth and was presented with a bit of stale mantou. It didn’t have much flavor left, but he felt grateful that at least he was being fed and given water, even in captivity.
The water ghoul gathered up his candle and the bucket, turned and shuffled away without another word.
He was left alone with the echo of dripping water and the faint flicker of the candlelight slowly fading around the corner.
“Can you help me remember?” he called out into the empty room, beckoning the spirits to appear again. “My name… your names… Anything?”
The broad figure stepped out of the shadows, the edges of his face still flickering. “Who am I?”
“I don’t know,” he said, exasperated. “That’s what I keep asking!"
“Who am I, didi?” the other asked, appearing from behind him to put a hand on his shoulder.
“Who are we?” they asked together.
Well, perhaps the one with elegant features, the one that called him didi, well obviously it would follow that…
“Gege?” he called out. “You are my brother? My older brother?”
A soft smile and proud eyes bloomed on the handsome man’s face. “That’s right, didi.”
But as he looked over to the taller, broader figure, he was really drawing a blank…
“I still can’t remember you. I don’t know who you are. I’m sorry…”
“You never knew who I was. It was all fake, every second. We were never friends.”
Fresh tears prickled in his eyes, hearing the harsh words. “No, that’s not true,” he found himself saying. “You know that’s not true! You were my best friend!”
His eyes flashed in realization.
“My… my best friend.”
“Best friend? Who’s that?” the broad figure smirked, amused.
A hollow laugh escaped his mouth. That felt right. Familiar. Teasing.
“But… I still don’t know who I am,” he lamented.
“It’s fine, didi. It’ll be alright. We will figure it out.”
“You’re fragmented. Pieces of a puzzle that no longer fit together,” his best friend said.
“Sometimes the pieces break to protect the whole. Sometimes forgetting is a mercy,” his older brother comforted.
“It’s unfair,” his friend cried, voice catching in anger. “Why does he get to forget everything?!”
“It’s not his fault,” his brother defended.
“It’s all his fault!” his friend shouted. “The debt will be paid soon. He will take it all back.”
He was struggling to piece together everything from their vague arguing. “I don’t understand. What did I do? What debt must I pay?”
His brother’s head titled at an impossible, unhealthy angle, stretching over the bone again. “Not yet, didi. You’re not ready.”
He begged, pulling on the manacles, trying to move closer. “Please… Why am I here? What did I do?”
“You’re not beyond saving,” his brother assured him, a ghastly hand patting his head. “Not yet.”
His heart and throat tightened again as the weight of everything left him feeling helplessly empty.
Suddenly his friend's features blurred and melted into a cold, haunted gaze, blue eyes rimmed with exhaustion and pain.
He recoiled slightly on instinct, terror filling his mind for some unknown reason. A shudder ran through his body and he forced himself to look away.
“Not even he is beyond saving,” his friend’s face whispered, voice dropping an octave into someone else’s voice.
The haunting visage held for a moment longer before slipping back into shifting between the two faces.
Both spirits faded into the shadows.
With a moment to himself, he curled into himself on the damp floor as much as he could with his hands chained, breath came in shallow, uneven gasps. The shadows stretched around him like dark fingers, the ghostly voices still lingering at the edges of his mind, whispers both accusing and consoling, cruel and kind.
What was real? What was merely his fractured mind’s cruel trickery?
He reached up, touching the cold metal biting into his wrists. The manacles. They were real enough. That sharp sting was a cruel reminder.
He swallowed, throat raw and aching. His body ached too, sore from sitting. Robes filthy and a wet chill settled in the dampness seeping beneath him.
He tried to think, tried to remember anything, but his head throbbed with a dull ache, pressure behind his eyes.
What did he know?
He did not know his name, not truly. Not the name that should have belonged to him, that he should have answered to.
He did not know why he was chained here, or where here even was.
A voice in the back of his mind whispered—his best friend’s voice—cold and biting, reminding him of debts and broken pieces, of things taken and things lost.
Another, softer voice—his handsome older brother—promised mercy in forgetting, comfort in the smallest sparks of hope.
He tried to hold onto those flickers of comfort, but the fear tightened its grip.
His memories were fragmented, glimpses of faces, places, voices that dissolved whenever he reached for them.
The water ghoul’s pale eyes haunted him still, its silent refusal to answer his questions like a mirror reflecting his own emptiness.
Am I a prisoner? A victim? A villain…?
His fingers twitched, tracing the edges of the chains, feeling the roughness of the cold iron.
The world around him was damp and dark, silent except for the slow, steady drip of water somewhere unseen.
What was he supposed to do?
Panic rose like a tide, but he forced it down.
He had to think.
He had to remember.
Because if he didn’t… who would he be then? Would he have to start over? Would he even be given that chance…?