Colt jolted awake like he had just awoken from a nightmare, his eyelids flying open. 'Was... it all just a dream?' He sat upright, taking in the new environment around him.
He could still feel the pain vividly, from the moment the bullet entered his back, to floating around in absolute nothingness, to suddenly being stretched like a strand of pasta. The ghost pain haunted him as he felt his legs were burning even though they clearly weren't.
'Huh?' Something didn't seem quite right. He rubbed his eyes to make sure that nothing was wrong.
...
...Something was definitely off! Since when did he live in a flimsy wooden shack? And since when did furniture begin to be made for giants?
'What the hell?' Colt thought. Then, trying to break the eerie silence, he opened his mouth, trying to make a sound. "Eeeeeh... what?" His voice... it was unnaturally squeaky, like a child's voice!
Colt scrambled to his feet. 'No, no, no... this doesn't make sense! Where am I?' Looking down at himself, he noticed that his feet and arms were extremely short, startling him. Suddenly, his eyes caught sight of a reflection in a window. 'Wha... I'm a child? Just what the hell is going on here?'
In the mirror didn't stand the weathered, middle-aged man that he had become accustomed to. Instead, in it stood a young boy not more than four feet tall, with a head of pitch-black hair covering his head down to his eyes, which were intimidatingly blood-red, like it stared right into his own soul.
His face was sharp, but his cheeks seemed empty and his skin was ghostly pale. Combined with his eerie eyes, it was as if he was staring at a ghost.
His breathing quickened, the floor and ceiling becoming dizzy. 'No! Get ahold of yourself! Don't panic!'
Colt sat down and caught his breathing, eventually taking longer, deeper breaths. 'I need to find out who and where I am first. This shack seems to have two floors, so I might be able to find somebody, or at least a clue there. It's best to explore before jumping to conclusions.'
He tried to distract himself from his own image by looking and moving around.
His mind made up, Colt drew himself up once again, getting to his feet unsteadily. In that moment, the strangeness of the moment hit him. His unfamiliar body, the weird, isolated shack... Hold on... weren't there movies where a mummy or something pops out of the cupboard in an abandoned shack?
He glanced over to the dark stairwell and involuntarily shuddered. After four decades of life and facing multiple attempts on his life, Colt was of the opinion that he was not easily shaken, yet he was scared of a mummy in an abandoned house? What the hell was he, five?
Then again, looking down, Colt admitted that he very well may be. Grasping the railings, he put aside his thoughts, not wishing to be disturbed by them, and slowly climbed the stairs with his short but spindly legs.
The ominous darkness upstairs looked more and more foreboding as he ascended, like it was ready to pounce on him.
When he reached the top, Colt fumbled around for a light switch, hoping that there was at least a semblance of civilization out here. Finding nothing, he sighed. He would have to do without for now.
'Maybe there's a mobile phone or something in here. Then, I can contact the authorities... provided there's even reception out here.'
Glancing out the window, Colt saw nothing but an endless sea of green. Sighing, he leaned on the first door with his body weight, hoping to nudge it open as he couldn't find a doorknob on it either.
*Bang! Crash!* "What the hell? Who makes doors so ligh-" Colt was cut short, as the scent of fresh blood assaulted his nostrils.
Horror and panic filled him once more. "Fuck!" was the only word he could utter. Laying in front of him were two human bodies, except... that they didn't look human.
One was lying face-down in a pool of his own blood, with its entrails spilled out. Colt was pretty sure that is was missing several limbs. The other was a female body, with its stomach ripped open. Its head and arms were gone, leaving just the torso and legs behind.
"Ugh... what the hell?" Colt managed to collect himself with his former military training, but that didn't make him any less frightened. Was this a house of horrors? Then, it clicked. These two were probably the bodies of his parents, or else why would he, a small child, wake up in this shack?
Just then, he heard the sound of hooves in the distance. 'Oh shit- are they the ones who killed my parents?' Colt was horrified. Not thinking straight, he dove down the stairs, barely keeping his balance.
Trying to find a spot to hide, he wiggled himself underneath the staircase, and shrunk back into the darkness.
*Clop! Clop!* The sound of hooves ominously drew nearer, eventually stopping right outside the old wooden shack.
Colt heard the sound of several men dismounting, and frowned. 'For the people here to be riding horses, does that mean there are no cars available?' He gulped. That would mean... that he had been transported back in time?
Colt didn't want to believe it, but considering everything that had happened, it suddenly seemed like a possibility. After all, he was pretty sure that he had died, and dead people didn't just come back to life like nothing happened.
The sound of several men dismounting echoed through the forest. Cold sweat dripped down Colt's back. If these people were the ones who had killed his parents, then why were they back? Did they have a motive for the murder? If so, did they come back to finish the job and kill him?
He heard several men chatting away, and some heavy metallic clanking. A low, gruff voice could be heard, sternly warning his companions. The person who it belonged to seemed like the leader of the group.
Colt was confused. He didn't recognize the language. It was almost as if they were speaking a mix of Indian, Chinese, and Arabic, sounding like aliens from outer space. *Shing!*
Colt heard the sound of swords being drawn in unison, and gulped. He had watched enough medieval movies to know that these people meant business! However, unable to contain his curiosity, he stuck his head out just enough to watch his surroundings.
The door opened with a long, low creak, revealing a tall, heavyset man with a finely-trimmed moustache dressed in a tunic and long, woolen pants. He looked like a peasant, but the shiny and obviously high-quality sword in his right hand betrayed him.
Behind the man stood two young men, one with stubble on his chin and the other clean-shaven in chainmail armour, with white tabards draped over their armour. Their tabards had a design of a black eagle on it, and they looked like dashing young knights in service to a lord.
Colt was stunned. These men- for them to be wearing armour, that definitely meant that guns had not been widely employed yet! Had he really been transported into the past?
Of course, he didn't dare make a noise as the men slowly entered, with the heavyset man in the lead, holding his sword at the ready. Colt gulped. Although swords are not quite as deadly as guns, they sure as hell could slice his head off in one go!
Colt's surprise turned into confusion. These men certainly didn't look like thugs, and neither did they look like the sort to murder innocent men, women, and children. Of course, Colt was clear that looks didn't equate to personality, and opted to remain hidden.
But, if they were enforcers of the law, how were they alerted to the murder in the shack? It seemed that the shack was far away from civilization, and Colt had not spotted a single telephone in here, so that begged the question, how did these men known that something horrible had happened?
And, if the heavyset man was the leader of the knights, why did he not have any armour on him, instead choosing to wear a simple tunic and pants, like a commoner?
His questions remained unanswered as the knights huddled together. After some muffled whispering, the two armoured men sheathed their swords and spread through the bottom floor of the shack, combing through it. Only the heavyset man without any armour continued up the stairs.
Colt held his breath, shrinking back into the shadows and not daring to move a muscle. A young, clean shaven knight who looked to be in his early twenties brushed past his hiding spot, nearly making him yelp in fright as his hair stood up on his back.
After a few more seconds of waiting with bated breath, Colt heard the sound of hurried shouting coming from upstairs. The two knights immediately drew their swords, running up. He knew that they had found the two horribly mutilated bodies.
After a few more sounds of thumping, the heavyset man came down the stairs slowly, with ominous creaking sounds sounding from the stairs.
Colt shivered, cursing the poor quality of the stairs and the workers who probably skimped on materials. If the stairs, which were his only shelter, gave way, he would be truly finished!
From his hiding spot, he could hear the heavyset man uttering something like a curse in his strange language. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it sounded like something he recognized.
Just then, the creaking stopped. Colt knit his brows. The man had not even gone halfway down the stairs, yet he stopped? Just what was going on? He resisted the urge to stick his head out, just in case the man wanted to chop his head off, no matter how unlikely it now seemed.
Suddenly, an eerie silence surrounded Colt once more. Just like when he had just awoken, but more... unnatural. It was as if he had been transported into a pitch black room- but he was unaware of when exactly it happened.
Frightened and unnerved, he shrank bank, slumping against the wall, with his heart pounding so hard he thought it may fall out. Just as his knees were about to give way, a flash appeared in front of him, followed by a metallic gleam.
'Shit!' Colt closed shut his eyes. Was he going to die again, just like that? Without even knowing why? He had no time to think, aside from accepting his death. A second passed.
Then, a few seconds passed. He didn't feel anything. Did that mean he was dead? He waited a few more seconds, but didn't feel the intense pain of being stretched like what happened when he first died to that gunshot wound in the damp, dark alley.
Slowly, Colt opened his eyes, finding himself face to face with the tall, broad and heavyset man! He yelped in surprise, jumping back, but there was nothing behind him except for the cold wall. Feeling a stinging pain at his neck, he looked down to see a cold, sharp blade poking him, with a trickle of blood flowing down. A little more, and he could kiss his life goodbye again. He heard the large man snort and pull the sword back, causing an intense wave of relief to wash over him, along with uncertainty and fear. His legs gave way, buckling under the pressure, sending him ass-first to the floor with a an undignified thump. Colt's brain was nearly fried silly with fear, and his thoughts were an incoherent mess.
He had an experience with death, but never had he have death so ominously looming over him- as a person who had been shot unexpectedly in the back, he didn't even have much time to process it.
Looking up at the man towering over him with the best puppy eyes he could muster. 'Fuck! Is this guy crazy? He nearly killed a young child!'
The man suddenly looked regretful at scaring a small child shitless, as one should. Clearly Colt's puppy eyes had an effect, as the man sheathed his sword with a fluid movement, bending down with a compassionate look on his face.
'Two-faced bastard, you didn't look hesitant to end my life just five seconds ago!' Colt thought, but didn't dare voice his thoughts out loud. The man spoke a few words with a gentle voice, well, as gentle as he could manage, which was still sterner than most adults.
Not being able to understand him, Colt remained on the ground, shaking his head. Seeing this, the man shook his head and sighed, drawing himself up to his full height and shutting his eyes. Just as Colt became even more confused, an unexpected voice sounded in his head, like it was right next to him. "Don't be scared, child. You're safe."