Oregon
I stared at the woman in front of me, my mind racing as I tried to make sense of the flashes of memory that were bubbling up from some deep, hidden place. I blinked rapidly, as if trying to shake the memories loose, to apprehend them.
"Why do you look so familiar?" I asked. "I keep seeing these weird little pictures of your face." My voice was soft, my tone unsure. Confusion crossed her face.
In my mind, I kept seeing her moaning in pleasure and then reaching the highest point of ecstasy. I wondered where the memories were coming from because it was always making me feel awkward.
"Do you know me?" I asked, my voice urgent.
She slowly shook her head.
"Please, just tell me," I said, my impatience getting the better of me.
"I'm sorry, I don't think I've seen you before," she said, her eyes wide. "This is the first time we've met in person."
I walked over to the corner of the room and rested my head against the wall, overwhelmed by the flood of memories that seemed to come from nowhere. Why was I seeing this woman in such a state of rapture? Where did these images come from?
"Are you sure you don't know me?" I asked, my voice trembling.
"I'm sure," she said. "I would remember if we had met before."
I dropped the burnt cigarette into the ashtray and walked over to where she knelt. She kept her head down, refusing to meet my gaze.
"Get up," I told her. "I want to see your face."
She slowly lifted her head, but her eyes flitted away as soon as they met mine.
"I will remain like this until you accept me," she said, her voice unwavering.
"I scoffed, quite surprised by her sudden strong and stubborn character. 'Stand up first,' I ordered, and she sighed before doing as I told her.
She kept her gaze fixed downward, as if she was too frightened to meet my eyes. It was as if my gaze was a weapon that could cut her face in two.
"Look at me…" I ordered.
Slowly, her gaze reached my face and I locked eyes with her. She was about to look away, probably she felt nervous and terrified but I was quick to grab her by the face.
"Look at me!" I yelled, gritting my teeth.
I noticed her eyes getting teary all of a sudden, but something about the situation struck me as strange. Why was she so upset? And why was I so intent on finding out why?
I forced myself to look away from her. I let my hand fall to my side, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed. I didn't know what had come over me.
I tried to clear my head and focus on something else, but the memory lingered in my mind. Was it really my memory? Or was it someone else's?
"Shit," I muttered under my breath. I tore my eyes away from her as quickly as possible, pulling my hand away from her sweaty face.
Nothing more came. The memory was still the same. But why was it in my head? Even I began to doubt if it was truly my memory.
I cupped my hand and pressed it over my mouth, trying to conceal my anxiety. I was so nervous because this was getting unsettling.
"What did you say you were again? My breeder?" I asked.
"Yes, King Oregon," she replied.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Lycan king's substitute breeder