Leon did not know how long he spent unconscious, he only knew that when he awoke, the pain he was feeling had lessened slightly. He was able to rise from where he lay upon the floor, though every part of his body protested the movement. He was able to narrowly open his eyes, but what he viewed was fuzzy and unclear. Instead he had to rely upon what little sense of touch he had to feel out what was before him.
Despite the scratches upon his fingers confusing him, he felt that there was a low table close to him and a narrow wooden bed with a mattress filled with grasses behind him. The wooden floor was also gritty with dirt. Of course this did not make any sense to him. The motel had been cheap for sure, but the lumpy mattress had springs and cotton sheets covering it. The floor had been carpeted and he could not recall a table anywhere. Clearly, he was not in that room anymore. So the question remained, where was he and how did he get here?
Rising upon tender legs and wobbling from the strain, he cautiously crept around the table, arms outstretched until his fingers touched a wall. Upon that wall, he felt that there were shelves and on them a potted plant, it's soil too dry. There were other things, but he couldn't tell what they were.. an ornament perhaps? He shuffled away from where he knew the bed was and felt his fingers touch the cold glass of a small window. It would not let much light in, he thought, considering it's size, though he was sure the room was light judging from what little he could see.
Continuing his exploration, he found a door. It was of a rough wood and it's handle, which felt loose was of unpolished metal. He tested the door, to open it, he needed to pull it inward. A rush of cold, fresh air and scents of wet wood and damp earth assaulted his nose. Tiny droplets hitting wide leaves and wood made him realise it was raining. His hand reached out of the doorway, few raindrops hit his skin, so he ventured further, though walked in a straight line forward.
He came to a point where the rain could wet him and he stood in the cold falling waters, turning his face to greet them. He shuddered as they ran down his face, easing the tightness upon his skin, wincing as they brushed over cuts and abrasions. Eventually, he turned around, making sure he was in line to return to the doorway before slowly returning.
Feeling the door, he shut out the wet and cold and stripped off the soaked garments on his body, using them to clean away what crusted blood still lingered on his face, with great care. Then he took his weary body to that bed and slipped inside the rough linen sheets before sleep took over once more.
*****
His stomach awoke him loudly. The pain had receded more and the swelling of his eyes was reduced, but his vision was still cloudy and he could not understand why. He could see that it was darker now, though there appeared to be a soft source of light emanating from the side of the room that he had not yet explored. He carefully wandered over to it. There was no heat coming from the light and it did not flicker, so he reached for it to find it was in sphere form. It did not help him with the problem of his vision, so he left it alone.
There was more shelves this side, a bookshelf? Small, cold glass shapes were stacked upon it, though some were knocked over upon their sides. There were more dry soiled potted plants as well, but he had not yet found a source of water to sate his own thirst let alone a plant. However to the left of this was another place with shelves, beneath them two cupboards and a wooden surface which held a wide bowl containing water.
Though stale and warm, it tasted as if it was the sweetest source of water on Earth. It did not completely quench his thirst as he scooped it out with his palm, but it eased the furriness of his tongue and the dryness of his throat. Calmer, he crept back to the bed, before sitting at the low table. He recalled that he had touched something on its surface, but had been too deep in his questioning of it to wonder what that was.
Now he discovered another bowl of hardened clay, though it had been broken, it's contents spilled, but what was in those shards were two roundish shapes. As he touched them, bringing them to his useless eyes, his nose scented their fragrance and his mouth watered. Fruit! He didn't know what type and frankly he did not care, each delicious mouthful could not be savoured as his stomach cried for more. Spitting out only the seeds, he consumed all of the sweet flesh, pining when there was nothing left.
He sighed and then decided to clear up the broken pottery, less he have an accident in this state. Piece by piece was collected and placed to one side outside. As he did this, he found a length of thin metal shaped about two thick glass circles. Almost sheepishly, he placed them over his weary eyes and the world suddenly came into focus.
The single roomed hut that he had awoken in, the unfamiliar surroundings and large woodland outside it became so much clearer when he came to realise that he was inside a body that was not his own.
A little more healed, a little less blind, Leon explored his new environment as best he could. The single room contained a bed, a bookshelf, a cabinet with a work surface, a table and shelves. He had also discovered a heavy wooden chest beneath his bed, which his weakened arms could not yet drag out. Potted bowls and plates sat on the shelves and lots of little, empty glass bottles. Of the three potted plants, one had died, but he managed to water the others with rainwater collected in a bucket outside.
His little hut was in the middle of the forest, trees visible in every direction, though there was a large lake and rocky outcropping just two hundred steps from his home. There were no other huts visible from where his stood, so he did not know where those people who beat him came from and could not keep an eye out for them in case they came back. This made him nervous.
When Leon was nervous, he had a tendency to carve doodles upon pieces of old wood. This was obviously an unusual habit for a modern man studying Social Sciences at University, but it was something ingrained since childhood.
His mother had been unmarried, his father had left the moment the word 'pregnant' had slipped from her mouth. She had raised him with love, discipline and money she had earned from working two jobs. And so while she had worked, he had stayed with Grandma. Grandma was a slightly batty old woman who lived two doors down and was very superstitious. To ward off all of the evils of the world, she would carve wooden charms and place them about her neck and her home. She had made him wear them too, his mother had a collection of them over the handful of years she relied on the old woman and as soon as he took an interest, she had taught him to carve them too.
The patterns varied, the size and shapes all differed, but they all had one thing in common; they didn't really do anything. The old woman was burgled one day while she was out at the grocery store and had had a minor heart attack in shock. Social Services decided that she would be better suited to living in sheltered accommodation, seeing as she refused to return home, claiming evil spirits had invaded it. So the eight year old him, with all the knowledge of carving talismans, waved her goodbye and never saw her again.
The knife that appeared to be all purpose, as it was the only one in the room, though there was a grinding stone for it, began to carve wood. Firstly he carved small flat pieces, thick enough to take the carving but smooth enough not to pierce his skin with splinters as he held them.
The first pattern that began to form in scrolling shape and design was meant for protection, the second, a swirling pattern for hiding things in plain sight. Shavings built up about his feet as he worked his nervous energy into the carvings. As he finally calmed, he felt a sudden weariness and rumbling began in his belly.
He took the purple fruit, which he had found plentiful in a barrel beside his house, from the table and began to eat. As delicious as it was, it was a meal that was beginning to lose favour, he had eaten plenty of them as he had recovered, but his body was craving something different. Perhaps he would venture back to the lake and see if he could find any fish.
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GOT IT