Chapter 2 - This Isn’t My Face
Tave's eyes snapped open as he gasped for air, his chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. His surroundings blurred into focus. And none of it was familiar.
He was lying in a bed.
But this... this wasn't his room.
The walls, the furniture, the entire atmosphere. It was all unfamiliar, strangely foreign, almost unsettling.
His hands trembled as he raised them in front of his face.
The blanket slipped from his chest. And he froze. These weren't his hands.
He tried stretching his fingers, expecting them to move sluggishly like his usual hands... but they responded with a precision he wasn't used to.
A pounding ache throbbed in his skull, forcing him to clutch his head as an overwhelming flood of memories and emotions that weren't his. All of them crashed into him.
It was like something foreign was being forcibly shoved into his consciousness.
Tavian... Tave...
What kind of twisted joke was this?