Facedown in a ditch

Cold. That was the first thing she was aware of, how absolutely cold she felt. She lay sprawled, facedown, on what she only supposed was the ground. Her hands numbly felt around for a solid hold. Her fingers met the cold, hard asphalt, wet with rain. Amanita pushed herself up off the ground, groaning with the effort. Her head spun, pounding with pain; she felt as if her brains were sloshing out of her ears.

It had been sunny. She had changed her clothes in the bathroom at the girl's academy, stuffing her uniform into her bag. She was on her way to... She couldn't remember. Why was it so hard to think?

She blinked and blearily looked around, at once feeling afraid. Blood rose to her cheeks. She was alone, on an empty street. Where was she? "Dad?" she called out. The sound ripped through her dry throat and she realized she had no idea who that was. Panic took hold. She stood up in a sudden rush and immediately regretted it. She reeled, her stomach churning. She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned against the nearest wall.

It was some time before she caught her breath. Still holding herself, she stared into the darkness, shivering. She was drenched with sweat and cold rain, lost, and alone.

What was happening? she wondered as a sob escaped her cracked lips.

Tic... Tock... Tic... Tock. It was pleasant enough, sitting in a warm study, the small of stale and mold was strong.

Lee blinked... He could not remember much about himself, his name some hobbies, his personality were all there but his memories and experiences were gone. He or the person that he was, having no memory of the experiences that he has had in his long life, found himself with a feeling that where he was now was not where he should be. He had nothing of his own memory, but he could remember various historical facts, he could remember English and Russian but not how he had required such knowledge. He looked around him... Wait he had mono vision... What? Reaching up to his face and feeling his scared left eye, firmly shut by muscle memory, keeping it shut feels "normal". The room was lit by a single gas lamp, already starting to show signs of running out of fuel, several old book cases devoid of books, a table and an old grandfather clock beside him.

It read 8:37.

He had a very sturdy metal cane in his left hand serving almost as an arm rest for him, he was wearing a short top hat, that seem to have seen better days, a tux of some faded pattern but with nothing in its pockets... Seems that the only possessions to him are what is on his back. Consciously thinking about his situation, he examines his cane it seems to have a familiar weight to it, he goes to stand. His left leg gives no support, he stumbles caught off guard and falls to the floor. His leg, suddenly alive with fiery pain, refused to work, he reached down with his right hand and pressed to it... He didn't need to be a doctor to know that his muscle was bunched up and shriveled toward the bottom of his leg.

"What did I get myself into?" He wondered, It was apparent enough that these wounds were old, his body had already well adjusted to his handicap. Not to be kept down, he put his cane underneath the center of gravity and pushing himself to a perfectly straight standing position. He had more questions in his brain then he could possibly give thought too but that did not make them unreasonable. He calmed his thoughts he needed to focus on survival, he had to think what needed to be done. His mind reeled as he stood there and thought.

The ticking of the clock slowed... and literally ground to a halt. He did not turn a head to regard it, merely looking at it out of the corner of his eye.

It read 9:04, the light goes out...

Ama had begun walking. She stuffed her hands deep into her jacket pockets. The damp fall jacket wasn't much use tonight. She pressed her arms into her sides and brought her shoulders up to her ears. Her hood was pulled firmly over her head. Maybe she could survive the cold night.

She kept walking all the same. It helped her to not think. She didn't want to think about her face, still wet and aching from her tears.

What's that?

She squinted her eyes, peering through the street. A pale yellow glow barely registered in the distance. She picked up her pace. Light might mean warmth, or food, or dry clothes. Her shoes smacked the ground as she began to run, feeling pulled in by the glow. As she drew closer, her lungs began to burn and her muscles ached. Just a little... Ama urged herself forward, and once she reached the squat, nondescript building, the light switched off.

Darkness enveloped him. He sighed, this place reeked of hostility, looking out the filthy window at a ruined skyline. This was Armageddon surely... and somehow he was at piece with it, it felt natural. He did feel that something was missing though, from his life, he didn't know what but he longed for some unknown person or thing.

He sighed again.

He could hear the clacking of running feet approaching, his muscles tensed, he changed the grip on his cane limping over to the door standing next to it, hefting his cane ready to strike and bring it down on the intruder running towards him.

He wasn't in the mood to be discovered, when he was in such a shitty situation, this person would hopefully give him answers that he needed... Wait, when did he become so violent? So aggressive? He was a gentleman he didn't do this to people.

The footsteps come to a halt outside the door, he raises his cane poised to strike...

Ama cried out. She ducked helplessly out of the way, covering her head with her arms. But it was too late...

It was all instinct, he swung his cane but the small girl was well below what he was aiming for. He gave a cry of surprise as he had not been expecting this, he had no intention of hurting an innocent girl.

He spun in place hitting the doorway with his cane... The world went dark very suddenly, his head felt heavy, he didn't have the will to even stand on his one leg anymore.

His world turned upside down as he collapsed onto the person, he had just moments before, decided that was of no threat to him. In his last moments, barely audible, he muttered "just a young'n"... before his consciousness ceased.

...

Ama gasped for breath. The unconscious adult body crushed the air from her lungs. She spent only moments scrabbling and flailing beneath him, until she realized he was not holding her down, but that he was... snoring?

Her heart was beating faster, and her veins ran hot with her blood. She found herself more awake, less cold. Planting her hands firmly on the ground, she lifted her own and the old man's weight from the ground. With a violent shake, he rolled off her and hit the ground beside her, but did not stir.

She stared at him as she sat up. What was this feeling? She felt as if she needed to run, to jump, to punch the moon in its face. She felt so alive, so strong. The old man's face looked kind as he slept, but then again he had just tried to attack her, didn't he? Maybe it was a mistake? She knew it was a possibility, but then again she was lost and alone. She wasn't going to take any risks.

Standing up, Ama reached for the old man's cane and gripped it tightly. She made sure to find a spot where he could certainly notice her but could not reach her. And she waited.

...

...

... For the second time that night, he blinked as he awoke in a place he did not remember being. Well not entirely the case, he at least remembered falling.

He stared through his eye blerily around the room, catching site of the girl he had almost hit sitting off against the wall. She was holding his cane. He tried to sit up, but his muscles were aching and spent as if he had run for several miles. If that were possible with his limp leg he would have taken the opportunity. He rolled onto his back.

The sky shown through the filthy window... how long had he been asleep?

He tried to sit up again and this time he succeeded in at least resting against the wall. He was panting, even though he had just slept he felt tired... but strength was returning to him... how odd was that? He looked back at the girl in the corner...

"Sorry about that miss, I thought you to be my... captor?" That seemed to be as good of a word as any to try and pin whoever had brought him here* Now that he could give it a moments pause, no one seemed to be keeping him here, more like he was left here.
My name is Lee, are you allright? and can I have my cane back? *watching her with his tired eye*

"Stay where you are," the girl warned sharply. She held the cane as if she meant to beat him with it if he made a false move and planted her feet firmly. She didn't trust him. She didn't trust this place. She would fight her way out if she could.

"What did you do to me?" she demanded.

"Nothing, I just got here. I have done nothing to you at all" Easing himself back down the wall, holding his hand up with an expression that said easy does it now.

He decided to keep things simple, not argue the point that he would never do such a thing. He kept his eyes trained on the girl, he didn't think she was capable of killing him, but he didn't want to risk getting stuck with the blade that was hidden within. He was worried about what she would do with that cane, he was starting at her with both of his eyes.

His left eye did not look at the world the same, it was like looking through film.. red film like blood oozing over its surface. Her eye's were bright blazing rays of gold energy, but only for him to see, that freaked him out a bit as he laid there with his back against the wall.

"What is happening to me?" He wondered aloud, the back of his neck felt warm as if a piece of warm metal was pressed to his neck, her reached back there and felt a smooth round sphere in the back of his neck. His question seemed wholly appropriate now, he hoped that this girl would not sense his unease.

"Fine," she said. "So maybe you didn't do anything to me. I'm willing to believe that." Is this old guy as fucked up as she was? The thought frightened her.

"So who are you, what are you doing here? What is this place?" Her questions were ignored. The old man was otherwise preoccupied. She watched his tired face change to a pained expression as he slowly reached behind his neck with a trembling hand. She lowered the cane along with her defenses. She was very worried about him, suddenly very sympathetic.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, moving cautiously toward him.