Lost to the Orcs (Oyeon Orcs)

Chapter Twenty Nine Her

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE: HER

It’s bleak and black. For a minute. An hour. Forever. I don’t know how long I’m just there. Living in it. I am darkness. Filled with it. Seeping it. Lost. I am lost.

Why does that make me so sad?

Like a child holding a bird in its palm, I feel a warmth surround what must be me . It is gentle, and warm. Loving and curious.

And then I’m opening my eyes. So heavy. Like I’ve been sleeping forever and eternity. I blink, staring into an unnatural light. So bright. Brighter than any candle. Wait, why would I be thinking about a candle?

I squint at my computer screen. My favorite author has published her next book. It came in the mail a week ago. I’ve already read it.

But I don’t remember reading it.

My hand comes up to my chest, feeling for the scar that should be gracing my skin. It’s a puckered… hole. Not a line? Wait, why would it be a line? I shake my head, trying to dislodge this confusion. This fear that something is wrong. I feel wrong.

It’s me. I’ve brushed my teeth and seen my reflection. It’s me. But… things are missing.

I go to bed with this feeling peeling at my skin. My psyche. I wake up with it. I eat with it. And I’m driven mad by it. Day after day and night after night.

What’s wrong with me ?

Me.

What? I jerk my head to look behind me. But there isn’t anyone.

It’s me . Not you.

A tear falls from my eye. A tear I didn't prompt. A tear that isn’t from me .

~~~~~

Weeks pass with my days full of these strange and perplexing moments.

I’m confused about commissions for “authentic recreations”. A new account, I don’t recall making, for authentic archaic clothing. They’re asking for updates. I guess it makes sense that the spare room is full of sewing and other crafting materials. The patio in the back has a piece of furniture for tanning that I don’t remember buying.

And then, the kicker is when he knocks on my door.

He’s broad of shoulder, with a slim waist, longer than normal hair tied into a low ponytail and hanging over his shoulder. Even if a tiny voice in my heart cries that it’s not long enough, I do my best to ignore it. His eyes are golden in color and he’s got a beautiful smile. That little voice is disappointed with his skin but it is normal beautiful brown skin. The guy looks normal so I don’t know why it would make me so upset.

“I got so worried.” He says, looking relieved when I open the door to his almost frantic knocking. “You call me every morning and yet you haven’t called me in weeks.”

I did get a text from someone several days ago but I don’t remember them. So I didn’t reply. “I’m sorry. I don’t–” He smiles, it’s so beautiful and yet lacking in everything. He cups my face and kisses my nose. I jerk back in surprise. “What? Why would you do that?” His smile falters.

“Addie?” My brow pinches. That… that’s not my name. His eyes widen, mouth gawping and he steps back away from me abruptly. Panic in his eyes. “Where’s Addie?”

“Who the fuck is Addie?” I breathe, panic filling my own chest with its sharp claws.

“Did you send her back?” There is pain and fear mixing with the panic in his golden gaze.

“Send who –

“That was her biggest fear. Going back there.” This man is cracked.

“ Stop! ” I snap and his mouth snaps closed. “Please, explain. I’m confused. And I don’t understand what the hell is going on.”

His gaze searches mine and he sighs, “C’mon I’ll make some tea and we can talk about this.” He beckons me as if this is his house and I am the guest. Am I? I sit in a chair in the kitchen, watching this man who seems familiar but isn’t as he adeptly, walks around my kitchen. He knows where everything is. He knows what he is doing with my things. If I thought I was being stalked he’d be confirming it were him doing it with his actions. But I don’t think that is the case.

What is going on here?

He places a saucer and cup I don’t recognize in front of me. But let’s face it, what do I recognize these days? The drink is something I’ve never had before. Honey jasmine.

I stare at it. The herbs still in the drink and look at him confused. “Sorry, you–ah, she collected them. She loves this tea. Says, even though she doesn’t want to be there, it reminds her of home.” He looks like he’s talking about a deceased friend.

“Start from the top please.” I take a sip and I’ll have to give it to this ‘Addie’ it reminds me of something. Something I feel I’ve forgotten.

“Right.” He chuckles, a little self depreciating. “I got called to the hospital near the middle of the night, about a gunshot patient in need of surgery.” My hand automatically takes a tour to the one in my chest. He nods. “You. Honestly, I had little to no hope. You’d lost a lot of blood. You were unconscious but something told me you weren’t a lost cause.” His hands are shaking as they wrap around his own cup and takes a sip. “When you woke up, days later, I was so happy. But, then you said your name was Addie. And we both know that’s not the name on file.” I shake my head. No. Of course not. He nods. “Exactly. So I thought blood loss made you delirious. It can happen when too much blood leaves the brain. It could cause all kinds of issues. So we kept you in the hospital.

“You were on surveillance. We were unsure if you would be a danger to yourself or anyone. One day, I was walking by your room when I heard you crying. I was going to ask if you were okay but you started talking. You said, ‘I can’t believe it worked. I’m me, but I’m not me . She accepted.’ I was intrigued. Protocol would have demanded I call in someone to test your mental acuity but I didn’t.” He shakes his head. “I’m so glad you didn’t say that in front of anyone else. But it was just me. You knew me, you said. Maybe not me but you knew my person and that I wouldn’t harm you.” He chuckles. “I was enthralled and confused. Intrigued. Who is this ‘Addie’?

“We gave you your phone which you came with and you needed help to navigate it at first. Of course we chalked that up to the blood loss prior and we retaught you. After a week, you said after waking up you were confused, you hadn’t finished changing your name and you forgot.” I frown but nod for him to continue. I know I wasn’t going through a name changing but I know some of my followers have mentioned their own name changes whenever I draw a transitioning character and their new names.

“We released you. Several days later, I was at the park when I saw you gathering plants.” He snorts. “Gathering plants. I never thought I’d see that. When I approached you asking about why you would be doing that, you froze as if confused and then laughed. Saying it was for an art project. I knew you were lying but you also didn’t want me to ‘lock you up’ as one of the nurses had threatened you for insisting you were named Addie.” He raises a hand to indicate his reassurance, “She was dealt with. We can’t have someone working with patients threatening them and making them afraid.” He sighs, “We,” He indicates me and him, “are in a relationship.”

I balk at that and he chuckles. “If I didn’t see in your eyes you aren’t Addie, I would be deeply wounded. But I know you’re not her.” His gaze is wounded though. Because I am not this ‘Addie’. Whether she exists or not, this man obviously believes in her and loves her. “Before we got into a relationship, Addie said she needed to tell me all of the truth. Where she came from, and how she got here. She wouldn’t start a relationship with me unless I was aware of all of the facts.” His golden but not honey jewel, eyes lock with mine. “She comes from a world where women and men can go into heat. Where mythic creatures like Orcs exist. Where monsters are men more often than monsters.”

I jerk back like he’d slapped me. My eyes widen with a dawning realization. I gasp as I remember a honey gold gaze looking at me wistfully as we lay next to each other. Late into the night, our body’s wrapped around each other. Wrapped in love .

“She feared someday you would come back and want to stay. That you’d remove her from your body.” A tear falls from my eye. My hand, which was still on my chest raises to my neck where the scar from the fateful day should have started. Down, down, to my hip. But I stop at my belly. A sob escapes my lips as I clutch the fabric there. My baby.

The man, who I still don’t know the name of, stares at me with some kind of understanding. A form of it. An acceptance. Because he believed this Addie. And maybe at one point he doubted it. But this– me has proven she was right. Either Addie is a multiple personality of mine or Addie is another person. Who is fighting for here. For him. For herself.

“Did you send her back?” He asks me, begs me with his gaze to say I did not.

“I–I don’t know.” My lips tremble as the tears spill unbidden. “I didn’t want to come back. I was– AM so happy there.” I sob. “How do I go back?” My voice cracks. “Jae. U’s. My loves.”