Thread: Amnesia (Nico x Hahvoc)

RE Amnesia Nico x Hahvoc His dreams were filled with sequences and snippets of conversations that made no sense. They went on forever before exhausting themselves and giving Lowell the peace of mind to rest. His mind focused on one thing A small house in a yard with a dog. The fence was old and falling apart, the dog was sitting as if hopeless. The house sagged on one side and the paint was chipped but something about it made him feel...safe yet anxious. There was snow on the ground and the dog looked cold so he stepped through the yard and bent before the dog, he looked up at him. It was then that Lowell noticed the ribs showing, the tired and starving eyes, the lack of energy. He felt then that he always had a soft spot for animals but strangely, he knew it was only certain kinds. This dog was special to him for some reason. It had scars all over it's face and body, probably from fights. The collar around it's neck looked like it weighed more than the dog and the chain attached was thick and heavy. Somehow, he managed to get the collar off and the dog sagged forward as if the weight had been holding him in place instead of his own body. It made him angry. He carried the dog back to...to a car? He had a car. It was a red SUV that was at least a couple years old. It didn't matter. It was a ride. Strangly, he had left the car running and the heat blasting. Taking the dog, he put him in the front seat and swathed him in blankets. He didn't have any food but at least he could provide warmth. He'd done this before....was this a memory? Or a dream? Looking back at the house as he closed the door, he heard the distant hum of voice. Some were loud and some were soft and desperate. It didn't matter. There was something digging into his thigh and as he reached down, he realize it was a knife. A big one. Like a hunting knife that big game hunters used. How did he get it? It didn't matter. He found that what happened until he got into that house didn't matter. All of them were going to die. Jerking awake with his lips closing on a gasp of fear, Lowell looked around and found himself in a bed that wasn't his in a place that wasn't his. He wasn't at the institute and he wasn't in jail so that was best. Yet he still couldn't remember everything. The institute kept running through his head but he couldn't determine exactly what that meant either. His thoughts were jumbled and all he could see before him was blood coating everything and hearing that dog cry. That savagely beaten dog that hadn't deserved anything but love and food and a home. He'd been in that dog's position....he knew that. He felt it in his bones that he'd been left to suffer in cruel silence...until he'd started fighting back. But that was where his memories ended. He couldn't get past them without his head aching and his eyes burning. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax on the bed. His memory was coming back in small increments. He'd lost most of it however long ago that was. How long had he been in this place? It felt like days. He had lost his concept of time. Was it days? Weeks? Even hours? He wasn't sure. He hated not knowing. But the bed beneath him was soft and warm and he finally settled into it, staring at the ceiling. He needed to relax and have patience. He would remember, eventually. His eyes finally found their way to a clock. It was dark outside so the clock that said 8, meant 8pm. Great. He liked night better. Standing up, he trekked out into the hall and then into the bathroom to relieve himself before venturing back towards the kitchen. Someone else was here, he realized and his memory shook up as it spat out the name and face of Oliver. He knew Oliver somehow. How? Something about being a client? No....a patient? That was it. Blinking his eyes to clear away the drowsiness, he looked around for Oliver, wondering where the man could have disappeared to. The house was dark and he couldn't figure out where the light switches were.