Haven's Addiction

We all come into this world naked, crying, and covered in filth. My entry into this new world wasn’t much different.

I gasped awake screaming out my wife’s name as I exhaled. Jerking up in bed, I woke in the confines of an unfamiliar room completely drenched in sweat. My heart raced from the nightmare that was already a fleeting memory as strands of the horrible dream slipped away like water through my fingers. Only a few images remained, but without any sort of context they contained any meaning.

As I slowly began to regain control of my senses, I looked around the room. I lay on a cot with a thin blanket over me, completely naked underneath. So many thoughts ran through my head at the same time that I couldn’t process them all. The images of whatever I dreamed raced through my mind, but they were quickly being lost. I eventually dismissed them completely to focus on the material.

I lay in a small bed that dominated the tiny room. The blanket over me was completely drenched in sweat and some other clear viscous fluid that was slick between my fingers. The only other furniture in the room was a small toilet in the corner and a large metal door at the end, giving me the sinking feeling that this was a prison cell. The room was devoid of anything else. There were no electrical outlets or light switches, although a light source came from above. It must have been recessed into the ceiling, because I couldn’t make out any sort of light bulb. I could have stood on the bed to get a closer look at it, but quickly realized that I didn’t have the energy to move. I felt my face to discover a couple days of stubble.

I tried to recall how I got there, but the only concrete memory that would form was crawling into bed at home. Everything else was just a blur of memories that didn’t make a lot of sense. My train of thought was lost with a sudden loud metallic clack of a lock disengaging, followed by someone coming into the room, then shutting and locking the door behind them.

I didn’t realize until that moment how incredibly weak my body was. I could barely find the energy to lift my head and look up to see my captor. My curiosity was overshadowed by exhaustion.

He sat down next to the bed, presumably on a chair, but I didn’t remember there being one in the room. He didn’t say a word.

I sat up through a great amount of effort to get a better look at him, but all I could really see was the giant glass of water he held in his hand. I could tell already that it was fresh and cold because of the condensation building up on the sides. As much as I wanted to know who he was and what was going on, my body wanted to rehydrate more.

I took the glass and drank from it greedily, heedless of whether or not it would give me a gut ache. After half the glass was gone, I took a breather. Looking up at my captor, I was surprised to see a genteel older man waiting patiently for me to speak. His golden blonde hair showed just a few streaks of gray starting to appear.

“Bailey Groves. Civilian. 3.141592,” was all I managed to croak out of my raspy voice in a vague attempt at humor in reciting a name, rank, and serial number at being detained against my will. The man remained stoic. Apparently my reputation as a smartass hadn’t preceded me, which made me wonder even more what I was doing here.

“So,” I said awkwardly, having to clear my throat a couple times because my voice was hoarse. “Why am I here?”

The old man spoke, but in a language unlike anything I had ever heard before. It sounded guttural with a lot of vocal sounds coming from the back of his throat. His speech reminded me of an old German language, but I may have only thought that because of the blonde hair.

He held up his other hand to reveal a small wooden device that looked like a hearing aid, held it up, gestured towards his ear with it, and then handed it to me.

“What, you want me to put this in my ear?” I asked.

He merely nodded in response.

He stared so deeply into my eyes that I felt like he was looking into my soul, and that he could read my mind. This was accompanied by an odd sensation that left me with a paranoid feeling of someone watching me. The creepy sensation that, not only was I being watched, but that I was being watched in a very intimate and private moment. I suddenly felt violated and didn’t know why.

I held the tiny object up, observing it closely. It looked like a hearing aid, hand carved out of wood, just like the kind my grandmother placed directly into her ear. It contained all kinds of strange markings and symbols intricately carved over the entire surface. He distracted me from my fascination with the meticulous detail of the carvings by instructing me with his hands to place the device in my ear.

I did as he bid, thinking it couldn’t do any harm, but the results freaked me out further than before. As I put the antiquated hearing aid in my ear it instantly vanished like it had been sucked into my head. I repeatedly stuck a finger in my ear trying to fish it out, but it wasn’t there. I tried so hard to get it back out that I made deep gouges on the side of my ear with my fingernails. I looked around on the bed, hoping that it fell out instead, but with no such luck. I started to panic with imagery of some sort of high tech device that burrowed into my brain, or like the mind controlling bugs in that Star Trek movie. I could feel a distinct tingling sensation in my ear where the device was when I first placed it, almost as testament that my fears were right.

In the background, the bastard who gave me the device continued talking in his incomprehensible language. It wasn’t until my panic reached its peak that I realized I was gradually beginning to understand his words.

“Stay calm,” he said as I looked up at him, clearly panic stricken, “it is merely a translator. It will bring you no harm. They are very common in this realm, and bear no ill side effects.”

As I looked upon him and got over the shock of it all, I noticed that his words weren’t matching up with the way his mouth moved. It was like watching a dubbed import film.

“There are so many different cultures, races, and languages in this realm that it has become prudent to make the translators widely available to everyone,” he said. “They are costly, but a worthwhile investment to avoid miscommunication the world over. It only enables you to understand what you hear and not so other people can understand you, but since everyone in Haven has one we all understand each other”.

He talked about it so practically that it intensified the nagging feeling of wondering where the hell I was.

I shouldn’t have trusted or even listened to a single word he had to say. For all I know he was the one that drugged me, kidnapped me, and took me to this isolated room. Being drugged would certainly explain the vivid and bizarre dreams. But why would he do it? It’s not like I’m fabulously wealthy, associated with someone who is, or in a position of political power. I’m a nobody in the grand scheme of things. Sure business has been going well lately, but not that well. It was something in his eyes and expressions that convinced me. Something about them wasn’t quite right, wasn’t quite human. I could see a bright flare of intelligence behind them, and I could tell that he was genuinely sincere. I couldn’t quite place it, but I knew without a doubt that I could trust him.

“You really do have no idea where you are or how you got here do you?” He asked right on cue, as if he really was reading my mind.

“My apologies for not introducing myself. I am Drognaus Gold, of the clan of Gold.” He extended his hand as if to greet me.

I extended mine in return and said, “I am Bailey Groves of the, uh, clan of… Groves.” It sounded ridiculous once the words were out of my mouth, but that was really all I could think to say at the moment.

“It is a pleasure Bailey Groves of the clan of Groves,” he said as we shook on it. “I am sure you have a lot of questions, but unfortunately I don’t have any answers.” He started to speak up in a much perkier tone. “You were clearly brought here against your will and without any sort of warning.”

“Where exactly is here?”

“In Haven. In particular, my office in New Haven City.”

“Why does your office look like a prison cell?”

“Because I am in charge of new arrivals to Haven. You are certainly not the first to arrive here unwittingly, but that is a rarity. We have several immigrants coming into this realm, and the city, on a regular basis.”

“This is an immigration office,” I said more as a statement than a question.

“Essentially, yes.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

“While you may seem harmless and have no ill intentions, we did not know that right away. There are a host of creatures who are very dangerous and could cause a great deal of harm.”

“Like the Graxis,” I said, not really knowing where the name came from. He seemed very intrigued by this.

“Where did you get that name from?”

“I,” I trailed off for a moment. “I don’t really know. Just a blur of images and words, and it was the first to pop in my head. I don’t even know what it means.”

“What do you remember?” He asked, patiently.

I tried to think, but came up against a mental block, like the answer was at the tip of my tongue and wouldn’t come out.

“That’s all right,” he said. “Take your time. Anything you can think of will be helpful in finding out how you got here, no matter how ridiculous it sounds.”

“The window of my house being blown in as if from an explosion,” I recalled, surprised at how forthcoming I was with this stranger. “Seeing the Earth on fire like I was orbiting it from space, with a space ship hovering between me and the planet.” It all did sound ridiculous, but was comforting to let it out, as if to validate that the memories were real. “Millions of voices screaming out for help, but not with their voices. More like they were calling out with their minds directly into my head. And an old man, who might have been god, telling me that,” I trailed off again, trying to remember exactly what it was. All of the memories were hazy, and I seemed to be losing them as fast as the imagery came to mind.

“Yes, go on,” Drognaus said, impatiently. Not out of irritation, but anticipation, at the edge of his seat to learn more.

“You are this worlds only hope. Find the secret of the twelve, and you will return to when you left to save all, and exterminate the Graxis to the end of time.”

The awkward silence that followed seemed to drone on forever as he pondered this before finally speaking again. “I believe that you were sent here on a scouting mission. Your realm seems to have been attacked by a species known as the Graxis who once plagued this, and many other, realms. Whoever sent you here knew what they were doing because this is the only place in existence that the Graxis have faced defeat.”

“Great, so tell me how they did it so you can send me back home.”

“That is not so easy. The scourge was banished from this realm thousands of years ago. There isn’t any accurate record of what exactly they did.”

“Wonderful, so this is all a waste of time.”

“Perhaps not. Any individual powerful enough to send you here would know if the answers you seek are in Haven. I will do some research into this.”

“So, how did I get here overnight?”

“There are a variety of ways, although I don’t know what method was used. You were found in the Courtyard of the Champions with your belongings. A Bozar was there at the time and described to us that there was a bright flash and you suddenly appeared amid the statues.”

Now that he mentioned it, I did remember something vaguely. Images of terrifying creatures looking down on me while I panicked. I didn’t get a good look at them because of the limited lighting, it was almost as if this happened at sunrise. There was also a giant bug standing over me. That was when I freaked out and lost consciousness. I may have screamed like a little girl, but didn’t tell him that.

He snapped his fingers and an attendant came in with an unbelievably comfortable robe to cover my nakedness. As I got up, I realized that that the slimy substance that covered my body a few minutes ago was completely gone, almost as if it had evaporated while we were talking.

“What was that stuff that was all over me?” I asked.

“Nutrient Keton. It kept you hydrated and healthy while you were unconscious.”

“How long have I been out? According to my stubble, I’ve been here for about three days,” I said as I put on the robe.

“That is correct.”

“Is that a side effect of being teleported to an unknown galaxy?” I asked with a heavy dose of sarcasm, still not fully buying that I had been transported to another world.

“No. That is the effect of the Bactirium Elixir we gave you.”

“You drugged me?!” I screamed, outraged. I started to get up in protest, but he held out his hand to stay me.

“Haven is host to hundreds of different species, as well as thousands of harmful diseases. It is necessary for all newcomers to undergo Bacterium treatment. Not only to built up a tolerance to the many biological hazards of Haven, but to ensure that you don’t carry any contaminant that could plague those in this realm. You came through it just fine, and in commendable time. Most people are delirious from the Bacterium for a week or more before regaining their senses.”

“What kind of world am I in, anyway?”

“I could tell you all about Haven, but the best way to be introduced to a new environment is to see it for yourself,” he said. I got the impression that he was trying to rush me out the door. Ever since I mentioned the Graxis, he seemed distracted. “My assistant will be with you shortly to get you settled. In the meantime, your belongings are at the foot of the bed. They have not been disturbed in any way. We merely scanned them for harmful enchantments. Since they are clean, you are free to take them with you.”

I didn’t know entirely what he meant, but kept my mouth shut until he left the room. He seemed to be in a hurry to find something, and I got the impression it was because of what I said. I walked around the bed and, sure enough, there were two large duffel bags completely filled with stuff. One of the bags bore a tag identifying it as belonging to David Dallege, my brother-in-law. I was perplexed at how it got here, but relieved and excited when I opened it up to see what was inside.

The first bag I opened was filled with firearms. David was a major conspiracy theorist gun nut, so there was no doubt in my mind that they belonged to him, even if I had no clue how they got here. The vast arsenal included a rifle, two shotguns, two sub-machine pistols, half a dozen different other pistols, a stun gun, various grenades, and even a slingshot. There was also a host of other miscellaneous gear, like night vision goggles, binoculars, flashlights, a gas mask, radios, and a small audio recorder. The second bag was filled almost entirely with boxes of ammunition for all of the weapons.

Suddenly the possibility of my being a prisoner seemed non-existent.