Recollection: chapter 1
The cold stone and grime from the floor, mixed with the metallic taste and scent of blood restarted my consciousness. Through the blur and haze obscuring my vision I could make out a light, casting long ominous shadows off looming steel support beams. I couldn't feel my body, everything was numb...And so cold. "Where..." I croaked out, my voice sounding as if I hadn't spoken in weeks. I tried to move my limbs, any of them. Finally my right paw gave the response I needed. But as the muscles and tendons begin to flex, something lightly slide to the floor with a clatter. Arching my head to see what it was, I was met with even more questions. A handgun. I layback again for a moment, I wasn't able to process any of what I was seeing, nor any of my thoughts or motor functions on that matter. It felt like millennia, the amount of time I spent on my back, but thankfully, after steady effort, I was able to sit upright. My head swam again; my mouth was as dry as dust. I made an attempt to stand, starting on one knee, and then pushing with unnecessary amounts of strength, I waivered to my paw pads. I looked down at where I lay; an outline of my form lay in dust, along with a puddle of long dried blood.
Where am I? What was I doing here? .... Who am I? I asked myself an endless amount of questions as I looked around. I was wearing a once fine pair of what looked like dress leggings, they were...a dark color; I don't remember what this pitch was named. I also wore a buttoned top, but it looked as if it's buttons had been ripped from their places, exposing my soft chest. Rubbing my oddly shaped face, muscle memory took place and I begin to search my pockets. Shiny metal cylinders, a few of them, and a rough looking leather thing fell from my paws. The leather thing intrigued me, picking it up and flipping it open, it contained a picture ID of some quite good looking panther by the name of Rashama Wyyvin. I wonder who that is... the only other things in it were a plastic card of some sort and some currency. Flipping it closed, I took a look at it, "This...this is a...wallet?" I strained my memory to find the word, but once I had looked at it, it just seemed to have come. Now fully conscious, but not fully able bodied, I bent down and picked up the firearm by it's upper receiver and put it in the back of my waistband, like I believe I had once done, and walked with a limp over to the light. Once I was close enough, I could see a faded, rusty push door. So I pushed it open and dropped unexpectedly a few feet, due to the lack of stairs. My left leg gave out and I hit my side pretty hard, blurring my already flawed vision "Ugh." I groaned, got back up, dusted my clothes off, and then walked from behind a large steel container to be greeted by a strong salty scent, with a mixture of smog and carbon exhaust. And the sounds, screeches, honks, and rings reverberated into my ear canals, coaxing me onward to curiosity. My paw pads crunched over crushed stones, sand, and gravel, and tall lights loomed overhead, very far overhead in the pitch-dark sky. The crunching turned to a soft padding as I began treading on a harder surface under the strange lights. Just then a noise as loud as an explosion screamed by me, read light trailing away "Crazy meth-head! Get outaa the road!" Road? What was- a splitting pain shot through my head, metal contraptions flew over this stone, lights flashed, 18 wheelers tanked down freeways, signal lights dictated the flow of a 4-way traffic intersection. I was standing in the middle of the road. I darted the other side, by sets of smallish brick buildings. Some more memories uploaded themselves to my brain, trickling into my knowledge database. I walked along the buildings and fences, trying to make sense of where I was, and where I was going.
Somewhere in me, I knew were I had to go, so my legs just carried me onward, around corners, down allies, then a hot flush creped over my skin under my fur, bringing me to my knees. I let my maw hang open as I coughed and heaved. "I need water..." Steadily, I got back up. A second time, I sub consciously auto-piloted myself through this strange concrete place.
A large lit sign came to view, gas station. Water. I walked in and found the place empty. Moving around the isles of merchandise, I found a cooler, filled with drinks of all sorts. My stomach made an audible growl in the silent room, a strange thing for me to hear. I reached out with a paw and pulled the glass door open, then plucked a bottle out with my claws. Turning the cap off, I poured the entire contents into my maw. My Mind began to fill with images of rivers, waterfalls, ponds, lakes, beaches, it was like drinking paradise. Once it was empty, I tossed it in a random bin, grabbed an assortment of chips, sandwiches and such, and walked out the door. I had the feeling I had forgotten something though...
Walking, eating, and drinking my way to a still unknown location, I started to feel a bit better, my nose was wet, my muscles were no longer as sore, and I could focus a bit clearer now that I had something in my stomach. While I walked, I had learned one thing; all of these streets and buildings looked exactly the same, Except for one. It was significantly taller and finer the surrounding buildings, hexagon-shaped glass segments fit into each other along the length of the building, giving a very high-tech look to the apartment complex. I had a feeling in my mind that a starting point to finding some answers lay with some individual within that building. So without further a due, I approached the large white door. Along the side, there was a pad which read which room number housed the person with the apposing last name. I ran a claw down along the list, the tip bouncing over the indented digits. "Roswell, Smith, Dorian..." I read down the list, I can read? I stopped on a familiar name, "Desmond". I tried the door, which opened right up, and stepped inside.
Within the complex, there was one long straight hallway in front of me, doors lining the sides every few dozen feet, but if I remember correct, Desmond was on the top-most floor. I looked around, and to my left there was an emergency staircase, and an elevator. Luckily, I could remember how to use one, and after pressing 4, I started upwards. Now that I thought about it, I really didn't have many questions; I was just a bit confused, nauseous, and curious. Because I honestly couldn't remember anything in relation to why I woke in that strange place. The door chimed and I stepped out onto the semi-soft orange carpet, digging my claws into it slightly while I walked along, it felt kind of pleasurable. "112, 113, 114...There, 115." I stopped in front of the heavy looking door guarding the entrance, and knocked on it with a clenched paw, producing a deep thud with the few hits. Faintly, I could hear papers and other items shuffle around, "Who's that?" I heard a somewhat young voice question. What was I suppose to say? I don't even know who I am, you know what, scratch what I said about not having questions..."Wait a sec-" the door clicked open, and there stood a moderately tall raccoon, thin, wearing torn jeans and a light white shirt, slender metal eye glasses rested on his nose. "Rashama? Get in, get in." He grabbed me by my shirt and tugged me inside. He looked around the hallway, then closed and locked the door behind us. "What are you doing here? Where have you been? What-" He turned and ran both his paws through the short fur on his head and let a gust of breath out. "Look, I don't know where you've been, and what you've been doing, but tell me this, do you have any idea what you've been absent from?" He sounded very concerned, "I can't tell you. Whatever your name is...I don't remember anything, I just walked here, and..." I stopped talking; I was going heading of myself. He gave me an odd look, "What do you mean you don't remember? You've been gone for weeks! What the fuck have you been-" The raccoon cut out and looked at my pants, at the gun. "W-Why do you have that...?" Again, he grabbed me and looked me over, touching my arms, observing my eyes. Then he clawed at some dried blood on my neck, which flaked to the floor. "What..." His eyes went wide as he examined the blood in his paw. "This is yours, you know that, right?" I gave a confused look, "Why would it be mine?" The raccoon sighed and ran a paw through his fur once more, "I don't know man...I don't know..."
There was a pause before ether of us spoke, "Look, all this is quite sudden, and quite odd, and right now all I know is that your covered in your own blood, so come on, let me take a look at you, just to make sure no more is wrong." Putting a loose paw on my shoulder, he led me down a pair of stair to a very clean looking room that resembled a lab. A set of silver monitors sat at the center of a white counter top, papers, graphs and diagrams littered in random areas. My vision failed as flashes of images filled my mind; a lab like this, beakers, wires, computers, men in coats, all grouped around some device. I recovered leaning on a tall table, Desmond giving me a look with a mix of confusion and concern. "Come on, just lay here" He patted a solid looking pod structure that stood slightly upright at an angle. I limped over to the pod and eased myself in with my paws, shifting myself a bit due to the lack of space needed for my body. The raccoon woke the desktops and began to launch applications of all sorts. "In case you can't remember, my name is Thane, Thane Desmond. I was, and still am technically, your physician." The pod hummed softly as holoscreens floated over my vision, displaying all kinds of information, heart rate, neural activity, even as technical as hormone levels. I lay silent, thinking over bits and pieces of what I've saw and heard. "I'm going to run some X-rays and CAT scans, no pun intended." No pun intended...Cat? Glimpses of small runaway creatures from what must have been very old memories veiled my mind. Then I remembered the wallet, and the face.
That was, and is, my face.
"What's green paper?" yet another question that popped into my mind. "Green paper?" he helped me out of the pod, "Like money? Stuff in your wallet?" I pulled out the leather trinket and flipped it open. "Yeah, like this," holding it up. He plucked it from my paws and looked through it, "Jesus, yeah, this is money, and a lot of it. Also, while were talking about this, since you've been gone you may want to check out your bank situation," he held a clear plastic card with an uncountable amount of little blue lines running in sequence through it. "Like money, this thing has the same value. Usually a lot more though. A lot, more." Sliding it back into the wallet he tossed it back to me.
Thane padded back over to the monitors, leaving me standing there still contemplating this "money". "Well, looking over what I can see from the scan," He sighed and took his glasses off, "The topmost region of your hippocampus was grazed by, well, a bullet." He turned to face me, "A bullet that looks like, was put there by you"
I slanted my eyes a bit in focus. The gun, the blood..."I shot myself in the head it seems" That sounded extremely stupid, but a bit humorous coming from me. Thane squeezed the bridge above his nose and closed his eyes, looking almost angry. "Yes, that you did, why? I can't imagine why, and I can't really ask you can I?" He got up and walked swiftly back to his kitchen, then resumed what looks like making dinner. "Knowing your track record, you must have had some really deep reason to do what you did." Vapors of vegetables and other good smelling aromas began to drift through the still air, "Regardless, there is some good news. Given your unique abilities, the bullet only rendered part of the hippocampus damaged, meaning if all the time I've spent, although short, would explain that your memory is still there, but the access was severed." He paused to rotate a small metal bowl off the flames. "So even though your brain is healed now, I hope, your going to have a very hard time re-accessing those memories, try a bowl?" He held the metal bowl to me, a tan liquid with many textures floated together in it. It looked quite foreign. Odd as it was, I accepted, taking the spoon and tasting it, I discovered it was quite hot, very hot. I pulled my head back a bit and let my burnt tongue hang out. Thane gave a chuckle, "I should have warned you, guess I assumed that you'd have the common sense to check it first." He proclaimed before taking his own spoon, but blowing on its contents before eating it. "Thermal energy, Rashama, how could you forget something so simple?" He shook his head "All those years you spent in study, gone...it really is a depressing thing. Not even to mention how it's going to affect your work-" He cut himself off, "I talk too much, and I doubt you understand any of my rambling, just have a seat and enjoy"
We sat in silence for a while, I could hear cars outside. "You said I had a unique ability? What did you mean" I took long enough to ask, as it was still on my mind. Thane put his spoon down and got a knife, then motioned for my paw. But when I gave it to him, he flipped it over to the pad then with precision, he sliced a clean shallow cut through my flesh, a line of purple flowed from it. I pulled my paw back in surprise, "Why? What was that for?" I whined almost. "Look at your paw." I stopped cradling it and turned it over, the blood had stopped flowing out, and it looked as if small tendrils of flesh began to stitch itself back together. And it happened quite fast, and before I really checked, the pain was gone, as was the wound. "It's amazing, it really is, even now days." He commented before returning to his meal as if nothing had happened. I kept looking at my paw pad, flexing my fingers to make a fist. It had healed seamlessly.
We ate slowly; his cooking was actually quite indulging. While so, we talked, well, rather I listened to him explain things to me, how people don't like when certain things happen, what you do if you wish to buy things, how to navigate a city using markings and such in public places, as well as other things. "It's getting really late, Rashama, I'll clean this up, you can head upstairs and have the room on the left, oh and let me wash those clothes of yours." He carried the bowls to the sink, spraying water on them to dislodge any grime from their slick surface. I got up and stretched my hind legs, we'd been sitting for quite a while actually, and then I made my way up the soft white-carpeted stairs. I feel like I should have washed my paws, they left traces of dirt on the cloud like steps. Finding the room wasn't hard in the least, there were a few feet between the staircase and the hallway, which only had two directions. The door was ajar, so I just nudged it open to revel a very bare bedroom, all that caught my vision was the nice red bed in the corner, and some crates that looked as if they were for storage up against the wall. I undid my shirt and pants, sliding them smoothly off my fur, leaving me in only a pair of purple undergarments. Folding them and setting them down on the floor, I ventured into the bathroom. It was small, but it seemed as if it had everything that was needed, a basin like the one in the kitchen, a toilet, and a fine looking glass shower, there was also a mirror.
The experience of looking straight at and into myself was a surreal out of body feeling, to see my own face from another's point of view, to see my own eyes, muzzle, even my slanted ears. I gazed at my own body as I noticed how the light carved a shine onto each follicle of fur. Suddenly my vision glitched, modulating the colors into a sudden influx of darkness. I wasn't in that same bathroom anymore, and I wasn't looking at the same cat I was before. This one was much younger, fear tainted his eyes, and blood stained his fur. Taking my eyes off this other me, I turned to the door. The bedroom had changed as well, leaving the white carpet behind for a hard wood floor, and this room was in much more disarray. But yet another thing caught my attention in that moment, a boy, a young boy, sat in a chair in front of a glowing rectangle, the same look of anxiety and fear on his pale face as he ran his fingers through long dirty blond hair. I tried to step out, to see whom this boy was, to find out why I had come here. But I was nothing but a shade to him, his eyes floated right over me. I'm left yet again with questions while this strange reality is drained of color, and warped back into the guest room I had started in. leaving me on my knees staring down at that carpet, I gathered myself and stood up with a faint feeling of exhaustion.
I let the hot water run rivers down my neck and over my torso, lifting dust and blood off of my coat while I squeezed shampoo from a neon bottle. I cleaned myself off, watching brown and purple murk up the water, than disappearing down the drain. All the while a feeling as if I had been here before grew in my mind, further confusing me. I slid the valve closed and the hiss of hot water subsided, leaving only steam that veiled the clear glass, and my wet self encased in it. I dried myself off in the shower, and while I tried with an effort to get all the water out from my fur, because the thought of wet fur while I tried to unwind didn't really appeal to me, I drew faces in the steam. I drew one with a frown, but it seemed sad, so I added one with a smile next to it, maybe it could help him be better...I laughed to myself; I had this good feeling, as if I didn't care. Drawing a little circle, I added little dots for eyes, and then came pointed ears, then some whiskers. Feeling dry enough, but definitely not sane enough, I left my friends in the shower, taking one last look at myself, I headed to the bed. Not really caring or knowing any better, I just lay down under the welcoming sheets as I was.
Flicking off the lights from my cozy spot, I lay looking at the ceiling, letting my eyelids drift shut as my mind began to open.
Thoughts drifted through my head, They started piecing themselves together, forming an understanding for me to make reference to memories I've gained, memories of the cold hard floor in the dark where I once lay dead, memories of the cars, memories of money, memories of cats.