"Urgh.... Ow... my head... Fucking bright light!"
Henry then remembers what happened to him earlier.
"Ow... what the... what the hell that... thing? It feels like... URGH!... I want to hit head on something hard... make this fucking headache go away!"
And that didn't help.
"Ow.... New rule.... Never shout while having a migraine.... That hurts...."
A few moments of silence, interspersed with moans and groans.
"Wait... where the hell am I? Oh god... not just my head... my body hurts all over too. Need some...."
Then the door opens, interrupting Henry's train of thought.
"You're awake! How about that? How do you feel?"
"Painful..."
Henry looks up while speaking "Who are yo...?"
Henry's mind grinds into a halt.
Then memory rose in Henry's mind. Memories he long since buried. Or so he thought.
"Macey..."
Shes look a lot like Macey.
No.... SHE is Macey. Her face. Her hair. The way she stands...
That voice.
But... that's.... that's impossible.
She can't be... she shouldn't be here.
How could she be here, standing beside the bed you're lying on now?
The last time he saw her, the situation was reversed.
Me, sitting on a stool beside a bed. Her, lying down on it.
Fighting the cancer slowly ravaging her body. Cancer that she diagnosed with when she was 20.
It was Stage 2 at that time. Doctors said she'll recover. They said we're lucky it was diagnosed early.
They were very wrong.
They failed at removing all of the cancer tumor. It metastasized.
They failed at giving her chemotherapy. It didn't kill the cancer. It just weakened Macey too much.
She's just 22. She was so very lively, yet so fragile. She has so many dreams and aspiration. She wants to experience so much of life.
But it was all for naught.
Because she's gone. Just... gone.
That... that's the last time I have ever talked to your family. To my father, who is a pastor. My mother, who was almost ordained to become a nun. To my sister, who became a missionary.
Or even to God.
He shouldn't let Macey suffer that horrendous and excruciating fate, and an ignoble death.
He shouldn't let you watch Macey as she slowly got worse. Slowly losing the fight against the cancer.
Slowly losing her future.
For the first time, I asked God for something.
I never asked for anything in my entire life. I was always thankful to God for everything. I was always faithfully following the words of God.
And yet, God never answered my only plea. The only thing I ever asked for my entire life....
I watched while the life slipped away from Macey's eyes. Her body getting cold... rigid.... The cotton sheet covering her body. The funeral. The burial.
I watched all of it.
I never cried. I promised her. Each and every promise you made to her, you never failed to keep.
Except for one. One promise I cannot keep. A promise that will only make me remember everything.
Suffering. And loneliness.
And thus, you rejected God. Never looked back, not even once.
Even after my family repudiated me. After my sister admonished me for losing faith. After my mother slapped me in the face for blaming God. Even after coming to blows with your own father, for telling him the truth.
God is fucking useless. God takes, and gives nothing back.
God is Suffering.
"Are you all right? Is there...?"
Henry croaks out "Is it.... Is it really... you..."
"Umm... are you okay? Hey... hey...."
Once more, Henry succumbed to Morpheus' embrace.
========================================
Henry slowly wakes, groggily looking around. And spots the man sitting on the stool beside the bed. The bed you are laying in currently.
He's a really, tall man, Henry observes. He looms over, even while sitting on that short stool. Six and a half feet tall,you suspect. And muscular, very muscular. Barrel chest, putting any man to shame. Arms as thick as your thigh and leg. Hands, calloused and gnarly, yet a hidden suppleness and flexibility to them. Vibrant auburn hair, stained with greys and white of old age. Same for his beard and mustache. And what a mustache, putting mountain men to shame. A face almost as if carved out of granite. Square jaw and chiselled features, covered with scars. An aquiline nose, somewhat crooked. Broken in a fight, maybe. Eyes so blue it's as if made of ice.
Yet... the face conveys an unusual kindness and warmth. Unexpected for a man of his stature and features.
A face of a warrior, yet the look of a kind Samaritan.
"Oh, you're awake. You okay there, boy?"
"Urgh. Still groggy, I guess. But at least the migraine is gone."
"Migraine?"
"Ah... really bad headache. It's like something is hitting your head with heavy, spiked hammers."
"That's quite bad, indeed. How about I take a look?"
He then grabs Henry's head. His hands are like velvet-lined vise. Soft yet really firm and strong grip. Pulling and twisting any which way a head can possibly move. And some more that should never have been possible. Not without breaking the neck, at least. And yet he succeeds on doing so without causing any pain or discomfort.
"Hmm... looking good so far. No lasting damage, I think."
Henry protests, "Please... stop twisting my head like that. A wrong move and you'll pop off my head like balloon."
"Don't worry, my dear boy. I've been doing this for the last 36 years. Never caused any injury to my patients whatsoever."
A stick was shoved in Henry's mouth while the insides of his mouth was checked thoroughly.
Some kind of primitive stethoscope prodded Henry's chest and back.
Some more poking... and prodding... and more general inspection of Henry's body later.
"Hmm... not even a single scratch. Some scars, but they're all very old. Strange...." He pauses. "No matter, you're a fine specimen of health. Scarily so, in fact."
"Ummm... who are you?"
"Oh right... forgot my manners. My name Gunther Schmidt. You can call me Doc. I'm the doctor around these parts of London. And your name, my dear boy?"
"Henry. Henry Jones. Thanks... thanks for saving me."
"No need for thanks, Henry my boy."
"It's just Henry. No need for 'my boy'."
"Heh, just accept it. Everyone here suffered like you. Took me 10 years to lose that. In Doc's eyes, you're still a little chick." Another voice speaks up.
Henry looks at the source of the voice.
A man blocks the doorway, leaning at the doorway. He then enters the room, and stands behind Doc.
He's around Henry's height. Golden blonde hair, shimmering from the light. Framing a face most women would swoon at the sight. A perfect mixture of Western Rugged Handsome and Eastern Bishounen. And a body build that is the envy of models and athletes everywhere.
A handsome prince charming.
"Name's William Martell. But you... you can call me Bill, darling." He smirks. "You sure look quite fine. Really fine, indeed."
He then he licks his lips seductively. While looking at Henry.
"Stop harassing the poor boy, William. You and your weird fetishes.... Wait, are the others already here?"
"Yeah, Doc. They're waiting down at the parlor."
"Hmm, then we'll have to start the meeting." Doc then look at Henry, "Would you like to join us, my boy? Me and other gentlemen, who rescued you last night, would like to learn about your encounter with the Vranitch. And we can also some of your questions that you may have."
"Uhhh... Yeah. That would be great."
Henry then remembers about his equipment.
"Uh, Doc... where's my stuff?"
"Stuff?"
"My equipment? You know, the items I have with me?"
"Oh, right... yes, of course. Strange words and mannerisms.... Your things are inside that closet." Doc then points to a closet opposite the bed. "Don't worry, it's all in there. Most of your... stuff are quite interesting. I'm quite intrigued as well. Me and my colleagues has a lot of questions about them. And you."
"Okay. Ummm...." Henry then notices his state of undress. "Can I have some privacy? Let me just get dressed and we can go down."
William answers, "Come now, darling. You have to be shy about. It's just us in here. Nothing to be afraid of."
"That's... what I'm afraid of."
Doc interjects "Come now William, stop pestering him." He then faces Henry. "We'll wait for you downstairs, my boy. Don't take too long."
William whines "Awww... we're just getting to the fun stuff."
"William..."
"Okay, okay... rain on my parade, do you...?"
William walks out, quite dejected. Doc follows him out, closing the door.
"What is it with me and gays hitting on me? A fucking lot." (Author: It's more funny this way.)
========================================
Doc greets Henry while he descends down the stairs. "Henry, my boy. Come, join us.
Henry obliges. "I hope I didn't make you wait too long."
Doc answers "It fine, Henry. We were just starting. Okay then. First, introductions." He then taps Henry's shoulder. "This is Henry Jones. I... was not able to inquire more about him. Since you gentlemen has come for our meeting quite early. Quite early indeed. Well... since Henry is new here, let me introduce you gentlemen to him first."
"You already know William, yes? He is our resident swordsmaster and combat specialist."
"I'm very good at fighting, especially wrestling. I can teach you how to tangle
Doc waves his right hand to a man immediately to William's right. "This is Sergei Micalovich. He's the tracker of this group. He's better a sniffing out thing than a bloodhound could. It was him who tracked the Vranitch to your location. Good thing we did. You almost got your soul devoured by it."
"Umm... thanks for finding me."
Henry observes the guys. The man looks vaguely Russian or Slavic. Brown wavy hair topping a face a mother would only love. He's around Henry's height, but more heavily built.
The man nods at you "Welcome. Call me Sergei. Or Micalov. Doc mixes them up sometimes. You are quite lucky, kid. Conscious after a Vranitch's wail, and twice at that? A strong will you have."
"Eh, thanks?"
Doc then introduces to the man next to you. "This is Pradesh Singh. My loyal servant and bodyguard. Quite handy with firearms, as you can attest on what he did with that creature."
But Henry was beyond hearing. A man literally appeared to his right. Henry found himself staring up. And up, almost the the ceiling.
Okay... if Sergei is tall, Pradesh is... huge. He stands at least 7 feet tall, if not higher. And he looks a lot like that famous Indian professional wrestler. He's even more muscular that Sergei. Sergei has muscles. Pradesh... he has muscles... on muscles. That's how huge he is.
"Greetings, Mister Jones."
"Greetings...."
Doc interjects "Don't be intimidated by Pradesh's stature. He a great man, loyal and unwavering in his pursuit of evil. You can trust him to have your back."
"Carrying on." Doc pointed to the man next to Pradesh. "This is Uk'rum Lightblessed."
The man(?) is covered in a long, thick, hooded white robe. He then removed his robe....
And Henry stared.
If Pradesh is strange, then Uk'rum is just plain weird. He looks like a cross between a frog and a man. He stood upright, even if a bit slouched; with knees bent slightly forward and outward. Large frog eyes. A wide toothed mouth, large enough to gobble a person. Webbed hands and feet, and bulging thighs.
And that's not all. His skin, while smooth and mottled like a frog, are in shades of white, cream and grey. His eyes are unusual; pure white with a gold retina on the right, silver on the left. They gave off a luminescent glow, like those phosphorescent glow-in-the-dark stickers.
And he's dressed like a Catholic priest. In full vestments. The symbols may not be the same; suns, moons and alien script instead of the traditional symbols of Roman Catholicism.
"Greetings, Awakened One. Blessings to you by the grace of Ulum and compassion of Muna."
"Umm... yes. Thank you. Wait... did you call me 'Awakened One'. Why did you call me that?"
Uk'rum responds "You are an 'Awakened One'. You have been touched by otherworldly forces. As I have been gifted by the light of Ulum and Muna, you have been given powers by another being."
Doc interjects "Ulum, can you tell us something about this 'being'?"
Ulum answers "No, Gunther. I can only See that he has been marked. Outsider maybe... I do not sense the Divine or the stench of the Infernal on him. Whatever it may, it is well-hidden from my Sight."
"Then whoever it is must be very powerful to hide from your sight, my friend."
"Yes, frighteningly so. My benefactors are quite worried."
Doc then asks Henry "So, Henry my boy... can you tell us about yourself? And how you came to be attacked by the Vranitch?"
And Henry told them his story.