Chapter 01 - Forlorn Fuckin’ Hope - Part 1

My head still throbbing, I woke up from another nightmarish slumber. The night wasn’t dark but in shades of gray. That gave to things an ominous look. The wound on my forearm seemed to be getting worse, infection was eating at it and I had no idea how to stop it in this godforsaken place.

And it was forsaken all right. I came to wonder if I was still alive. This whole world was just wrong, out of place. There were no colors, and everywhere I looked I saw only endless featureless hills.

But the ache in my arm and my head, the thirst in my throat, the hunger in my belly convinced me that I was perhaps not in best of shape but alive nonetheless. That why I started to check on my weapons. The baldric of my sword hung uselessly on my back; my two pistols were loaded and swung on my waist.

I startled to the sound of a crow, a gigantic crow it seemed. What addressed me was a man with a head singularly reminding of a hawk.

― You are a stranger here, aren’t you? he said.

― Who are you? I asked defensively.

I could not quite catch his features then. Nor young nor old, I only had the feeling that he belonged to this place like those hills. Like he himself was this place. It was a strange creepy feeling, in fact. And if I’ve already boasted in this account of my life about my bravery, I am ashamed to confess that then, in front of the man, I was scared to the bones, and knew that the blade in my hand as the pistols to my waist were no match against him.

― You should be scared of me, he replied as if reading my thoughts, or I was just too obvious. But don’t be. I know who you are and why you are here, at least who sent you here to disturb my peace. And I hate him as much as you do if not more… so perhaps I will help you a little.

― Who are you? I repeated dumbly, stubbornly.

― My name doesn’t matter James.