Memory Alteration - Tumblr Posts

Smith panted as he started awake. Cool air washed over his legs, arms, and torso as he stared up at the ceiling. He winced at the pain in his skull. The room was blurry. Where ... was he?

He sat up slowly in bed and felt the cold touch of metal against his hand. His breathing quickened, and he snatched the object up, cradling it against his bare chest. His piece was still there. He quickly opened the cartridge. Every bullet was accounted for.

Then he looked down, noticed what he was wearing, and cursed. His boxers were nowhere in sight. Instead, a pair of tight white briefs clung to his frame. His skin tingled as he looked around the room. The walls were a blank tan with light texturing.

“What ... happened?” he grunted. His throat felt parched and irritated, and his voice sounded gravelly. One minute, he was running gun maintenance, the next he ... he couldn’t remember. He must’ve been drugged or hit over the head. “Okay, no sudden movements, then,” he said. “Don’t wanna risk problems, if I’ve got a concussion.”

His head throbbed and he let out a low growl. “Damn it,” he swore. He primed his gun and pointed toward the door. Whoever had kidnapped him would have to walk in eventually. And when they did, he would make sure they let him go with interest. They’d have a hell of a lot to answer for, when he was through with them. Screw the police.

The tingling intensified, and a low moan escaped his lips as a bulge began to swell in the crotch of his briefs. “Not now,” he snarled. He laid his arm on the side of his leg and clenched his hand around the gun The cold metal helped to cool his hot blood as he rested it against his thigh. His head still throbbed, though, and an odd ringing clang echoed in his ears.

The room spun as he propped himself up, and the ringing intensified. His head rolled back as a deep voice echoed through his head, singing in a dialect he didn’t recognize. It droned and thrummed in time with the ringing blows.

His hand trembled. His arm and leg hair thickened. The bulge in his briefs swelled. The last thing he remembered was the sharp retort of the gun as he slipped into the blackness.

Smith blinked slowly. He turned his head weakly to see a woman’s pale hand caressing his own. It looked so tiny, the way it cradled there. Five strapping men stood tall and proud as they looked at him. Their eyes watered, and his own vision clouded. He felt the moisture trickle down over his nose and lips and he furrowed his brow in confusion. He wasn’t upside down. The water shouldn’t have trailed the way it did.

One of the figures stepped forward and offered a large crude hammer. Smith reached forward and seized he shaft. For some reason, he felt ... peaceful at the feel of it. He looked up at the man and nodded gratefully. A much larger hand cradled his and he turned to stare into a monstrosity. The woman’s face was brutish, yet well kept. A bowl cut had been set neatly to frame her face and the single massive eye in the middle of her head above the nose.

Instead of revulsion, Smith felt a longing and a pang of regret. He looked over the men and blinked as he took in their single eyes as well.

“Rest now, my son. Rest now,” a gentle voice whispered. Cold sleek scale brushed against his skin as he turned his head to behold the massive writhing body of snake-like limbs and he beautiful woman who sat atop it from the waist up. The clanging rang again as he laid back his head and smiled at the gathering. Then he sighed, and the darkness came again.

Smith blinked slowly as he came to awareness. He sat up and rubbed his great eye with his free hand. “What ... happened?” he asked. The ringing echoed in his skull again, but ... that wasn’t the only place. “What the...?”

He stumbled to his feet and made his way to the source of the sound. He tried the handle. The knob twisted easily and opened into an absolute impossibility. The cave was positively enormous. Its roof stretched up into a dark abyss illuminated by veins of crystal that reflected the light from a series of red pools that dotted the space. Heat roiled off in waves, but nothing burned. It felt ... tingly.

He sniffed, and the smell of roasting meat entered his nostrils. His stomach growled. He remembered the ground shaking, the pounding almost like a rockslide. And suddenly he was chewing heavily. The flavor was somewhat gamy, but the seasonings masked the worst of it.

More pieces of meat sat on kebabs, waiting for him to tear into them. He did so with relish. Great earthenware jars soon revealed a dark brown liquid that tasted sweet. He grinned. “Beer!” he bellowed excitedly. He drank greedily from the jar and let it drop with a lusty sigh of satisfaction, once he’d drained the vessel. Then he unleashed an earth-shaking belch.

He scratched his stomach, then his crotch. Then he reached for another kebab. It didn’t take him long to polish off the reserves in the room. When his hunger had been sated, he rose and strode curiously toward the pools. He dipped a hand in curiously. All he felt was a pleasant warmth.

The cavern rumbled again, and this time a grin spread across Smith’s face. He pulled his hand out and watched the glowing substance drip down like bathwater. He rose and strode over to a plinth that seemed almost to shrink the closer he drew to it. A large hammer lay on the surface, alongside sets of tongs, bins filled with glinting metals, and pools and jars he had yet to properly identify. Still, the ringing sounded in his ears, and his hand twitched as he reached for the great hammer’s shaft.

He was ... supposed to do something, wasn’t he?

He seized the tool and raised it.

Something ... important. Make ... make ...

He plunged a hand into the bin and fished out a fistful of metal. It shrieked as he crumpled his hand, and he grinned as he turned toward the pools.

Make.

He stomped his foot.

Make.

The earth trembled and groaned as a massive metal anvil rose out of the stone.

Make.

He released the hammer and rested it on the surface, then dipped his free hand into the pool to cup the glowing liquid.

Make.

He crushed the metal into the liquid, and was left with a glowing malleable substance that felt like clay. A grin spread over his mouth as he returned to the anvil.

Make.

The air rang with the blow of the hammer.

Make.

The metal bent to his will.

Make.

He struck again and again as the hammer sang and his grin widened. The room became brighter. He didn’t care. All that mattered was what lay before him. The metal extended and lengthened under his ministrations. He didn’t know how long it had been. He didn’t care. He picked up the piece with his bare hands and immersed it into a black substance. The metal hissed and the surface spat fire. He chuckled a deep low guffaw at the sight. Then he pulled out the piece and placed it square with the center of his nose as he peered down the blade.

Make.

He strode to the edge of his table, where an intricately engraved metal pole had already been laid. He ground at the blade with a large moist stone, until the metal shone and the edges were sharpened. Lastly, he mounted the new piece of metal to a notch in the top of the shaft. The two clicked into place, and he grinned as he stood proudly, raising the spear over his head.

“I make!” he crowed, and the whole cavern shook. He no longer had dificulty making out the stalactites that hung from above. He scratched at the roughspun wool cloth that preserved his dignity. “That was fun. I make more!”

With every clang of his hammer, the memories of the hotel room faded. The tiny creatures that flickered across his vision seemed more appetizing than they did interesting. More than once, he wondered what they might taste like, and his mouth watered at the idea.

Smith was no more. When he tried to remember his name, the only word that sprung to mind was sidirourgós.

He thumped his thick muscular chest in delight. “sidirourgós.” He tested the word, running his tongue over his teeth as he felt the way it passed through his mouth. “I make. I forge. I am sidirourgós.” He chuckled. “I am sidirourgós!”

And with that, he went to work. A large set of blueprints had already materialized, carved on a stone block. His muscles tensed. His grin widened. He had an order. He understood the writings and images. It was time to get to work.

Off in the shadows, two golden eyes glinted as sharp white teeth bore themselves in a grin. “Success,” she hissed quietly as her sinuous body slithered away.

| FRACTURED 1 |

Summary: After a traumatic accident, you wake up with memories of a life, everyone around you denies you ever lived.

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Warnings: Angst, crime, mystery, kinda strangers to lovers.

A/N: This is clearly inspired by "Our Time" by @taestefully-in-luv Since I couldn't take it out of my head, I wrote this homage.

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FEVER DREAM

You were printing the remaining documents wishing for the machine to hurry up already, so you could drop them at court and finally go home.

"Still here?" asked Captain Min, peeking through the door of your small office.

"Yeah, I want to take this there today so they'll get the documents to check first thing tomorrow morning. I want her out of questioning and out of the city as fast as possible.

"Quite a complicated case though" he replied "I'm not sure they'll let you represent her as usual. Her statement could save tons of lives"

"I know, but I gotta try" reaching for the latest paper you started to organize them in a binder, already full of evidence "We are talking about girls and women Yoongi. I need them to give me the green light so I can work on getting the full statement to represent her in court. She doesn't need to go through this twice, that's why I work here, it's my job.

"I know, I'm just saying is unlikely"

In a somber mood, you checked your watch and realized you have wasted precious time talking.

"Gotta go If I want to make it on time. See you tomorrow captain" you said mischievously while squeezing through the door in a rush.

"See ya, victims advocate" replicated Yoongi laughing heartily.

Still laughing you left the precinct making sure to say goodbye to the new security guy and strutted across the streets trying to reach court in time.

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"Star... Star can you hear me?"

Blinking, you tried to remember where were you, but you couldn't. The last thing you recalled was walking to the local courthouse, but all was fuzzy before and after.

"Star, are you okay?"

Shaking your head you focused on the voice that was talking and groaned. Your head was pulsating and your throat was sore.

"Her pulse is fine," said another voice "And she is waking up now, I'll come back later to see how she continues but she should be okay now".

"Good, thanks doc. I'll take it from here".

Finally being able to focus you realized you were laying on a bed in what you supposed was a hospital room. But the place looked small and shabby.

"Where am I?"

"You scared us for a second Star," the man sitting in a chair right against her bed said, "When we took you out of the water we thought we had lost you".

Water? So you did have an accident... but you were nowhere near the water, your town isn't close to it.

"Do you remember, right?" the man looked around searching for someone, but they were alone in the room now.

"I-I... the last I remember is getting out of work and-"

"Yes, thank god, we were going out of work" The man looked relieved you were both on the same page "Since the accident, you have been having memory problems and I didn't know if you were going to wake up this time knowing us or not".

"Memory problems? I-I that can't be. I remember my life fairly well, how could I have lost it..."

"Star, you've been here for a few weeks, and every time you wake up you look more and more confused. The doctor said it was expected since, well lack of oxygen could lead to memory trouble".

"But I don't have amnesia!" you screamed stressed, your head was palpitating and you couldn't breathe well "I know who I am, and my fucking name is not Star!"

Apologetically, the man sighed and got up from the chair.

"This been going on for a while, I-I need to take a break," he said looking defeated.

Trying to calm your beating heart, you looked around and strained your ear to hear noises from outside, but it was silent.

You felt tempted to get up and look out the window but before you could do that, the door opened again and a different man entered the room.

"Star!" he exclaimed. His mop of hair bounced, as he hurriedly made his way to you, once he saw you were conscious "You’re awake!"

"Don't get your hopes up" said the first man appearing again and leaning in the door's lintel "She doesn't remember us".

"W-What?" the doe eyes of the second man looked impossibly big "Baby, you don't remember me?" He said with a pout while grabbing your hand.

"I-I what? Baby?" Retiring your hand from his grasp you put it over your heart. It was beating like crazy "I'm sorry, I don't know you".

"Oh. I see" replied the man, looking disappointed.

"Look I just wanna go home. Can I do that? Can I leave?"

"Sure. I'll take you home".

"Not yet," said the first man, now entering the room and sitting next to the bed again "What's the last thing you remember?"

"I already told you," you said, exasperated "I finished printing the paperwork at my work, I said goodbye to my boss, and was on my way to drop some documents at court. I don't remember anything else after that. Besides walking on the street, I mean."

"What should we do hyung?" asked the guy with the wavy hair. He looked defeated.

Sighing, the older man straightened his back and made eye contact with you.

"Ok. We'll have to believe something happened with your brain - as the doctor said - because what you just told us makes no sense".

"What do you mean?" You whispered, afraid of the answer he might give you.

"First of all, my name is Kim Namjoon and I'm the spokesperson of the village we are in".

"More like a leader, hyung"

"Whatever you want to call it, I'm the voice and face inside and outside of here".

"Ok".

"We know you by the name of Star and you've lived in this place for as long as I can remember..."

"That, that can't be... how?" Confused you looked around the room again. You were sure of who you were, but this made no sense "My name isn't Star is y/n, and I work at the 4th precinct downtown".

"Downtown? Where?" Kim Namjoon asked, looking exasperated "We live on an island. The only way out of here is by boat or by car. By boat is closer, hence why we always use it. Driving takes at least 12 hours to get us out the forest and out of the island".

Astonished, you remained silent.

"You've lived here since your parents died and my father heard of their passing. I'm not sure how they knew each other, but he brought you here and raised you as his own. I remember being childish while he tried to explain it to me, saying the only other option was an orphanage..."

"My parents aren't dead! They live across the country!" You yelled furiously. You knew this story wasn't real, it couldn't be. You remembered everything. "I don't know who you think you are, but I'm going home. I can't listen to any more nonsense".

Sighing, both men looked at each other.

"Fine. First thing tomorrow morning, I'll take you wherever you want to go. But hear me out Star" you could only roll your eyes at the constant use of a name it wasn't yours "I am not leaving you there. It could be dangerous, you'll realize you are confused and have nowhere to go. And when you see that and you'll see it, you'll have to come back with me. I won't put you in unnecessary danger".

"Don't worry Kim Namjoon, everything will be fine" she said defiantly "I'll be sleeping in my bed tomorrow night".

"Sure thing. Wanna sleep here tonight or in your house?"

"I have a house?"

"Yes Star, you have a house" he deadpanned.

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Hope you like it! Let me know what you think :)