I wake up in a small room. The brilliant white walls are nearly blinding at first, but my eyes adjust. I am in a bed, one of the most comfortable I’ve ever been in, I must say. I attempt to sit up. The unbearable pounding in my skull forces me back down. From my position I can see a table beside my bed, a set of clothes folded neatly on the far edge. A metal platter full of odd instruments lies on the edge closest to me. I see something that looks like a scalpel, but much larger. Something else that resembles a pair of surgical pliers lies next to the oversized instrument. It looks stained with... blood. My blood? What the hell is going on here? I gather enough strength to lift my right arm from the bed. I touch my hand to my head. What the...? I feel cloth where my hair should be. I touch the top of my head. Pain washes over me like a tidal wave. I feel the urge to cry out, but I suppress it. What has happened to me? Why am I here? I struggle to remember, but I cannot recall anything beyond this room. It is as if my whole existence began the minute I opened my eyes in this place. This is insane. I know I’ve never been here before, but this room is all I can remember. I am still attempting to rationalize my situation when the door slides open.

A young woman wearing white casually walks into the room; the door sliding shut behind her. She walks to the wall opposite the entrance and taps a black glass panel beside my bed. The panel illuminates with a display of some information; the status of my condition, I suppose. I hear beeping and more tapping, the woman standing in silence before the panel. A final tap, and the display goes blank. She pulls a chair close to me and sits down. I can see an ID tag clipped to the right pocket on her uniform. The name beneath the picture reads "HIRGENET, JANIS R." An abbreviation is beside the name: I.M.T.

"How are you feeling today, Len?"

Why is she calling me Len? My name is... is... what is my name?

"Myaaaaauuuhhhhggg." I try to speak, but my mouth seems to have other intentions.

"Don’t try too hard. You will recover with time. The main thing is that you’re alive." She touches her delicate hand to my chest. It feels warm and familiar somehow. She seems deeply concerned. I can see it in her eyes; a smile hiding her worry. Does she worry about me, I wonder? It seems to go much deeper than I can see.

She leans close to me, her face coming fully into focus. The feeling of familiarity is stronger now. I know this woman, but I can remember nothing about her. I struggle to recall anything I can about her, but my memories are like smoke through my fingers. Attempting to recall anything seems futile.

"How do you feel?" The smile on her face slowly fades.

"I...I... feeeeel baaddd." It takes a monumental effort to force the words out.

"You feel well enough to speak. That in itself is something to be happy about."

"Wh..whhhhheere...."

"Rest. Don’t tire yourself out trying to talk. The pain will subside, but it’ll take time. It’s just lucky you were brought to us in time."

My head spins as I try to factor out her statement. Brought where? By whom? I have to try to talk. These questions banging around in my wounded head could be more detrimental than me straining to speak. What in the hell happened to me?

"Wherrrreammiiii...." My voice fails as the words stumble from my mouth.

"For now, all you need to know is that you’re safe. The answers will come, but now you need to let your mind rest. You’ve come a long way, but you still have a long way to go. Rest now."

I build myself up to mount a retort when she stands and taps the black panel once again. Immediately the need to sleep comes upon me. Unable to even imagine resisting its effect on me, I close my eyes and promptly slip into unconsciousness.

"What do you know of Death," the stranger asks, his face fixed with the strangest of expressions. I stand dumbfounded, not expecting such profound words to exit a mouth with so little teeth.

"Excuse me?" I can think of nothing else to say.

"Death! What do you know of him?" His expression growing ever darker, he presses a filthy hand on my shoulder.

"What?! I don’t know what you’re..."

My collar tightens around my neck as the stranger clutches the front my shirt and draws me closer to his haggard face. His emaciated form belies the strength that I feel in his hands. His sunken eyes glare directly through me. It’s as if he sees another in my place.

"Don’t lie to me, Shadow! You may be able to fool two eyes, but not the third! The third sees all! Tell me of the Dark One now!!" His foul breath nearly gags me.

I drop my briefcase and push the stranger back with both hands. Not a shove, but enough to put distance between my face and his. His wasted legs buckle and he falls to the sidewalk, his eyes wide with surprise. Clearly he was not expecting this.

"Don’t touch me again, old man," I exclaim. "I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about! I’ve got things..."

"Say what you will, Shadow! I will not let it happen again!" He points a bony finger toward me.

"What are you tal...." A flash of light, then nothing.

Nothing.

I feel nothing. I see nothing. I am nothing.

I am Nowhere.

I feel consciousness return slowly. I am aware, but only of myself. I can neither see, nor hear, nor feel.  I think I may be dead.

"This is not Death".

The voice seems to come from everywhere at the same time. I attempt to respond but I cannot speak. I struggle to clear my mind, but it is as if I no longer control my own thoughts.

"You are inside the Shadow, young one. You are inside me."

"WHO ARE YOU," I shout soundlessly. The sheer amount of willpower it takes breaks my hold on consciousness and I fade, not knowing if I will ever return.