The sterile, rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor was the first thing Lena became aware of. Her eyelids felt heavy, and her body ached as though she had been run over by a freight train. Slowly, she opened her eyes to the dull, white ceiling of a hospital room.
"Oh, you're awake!" exclaimed a soft voice.
Turning her head, Lena saw a nurse standing beside her bed, holding a clipboard. Her face broke into a warm smile, though it was tinged with curiosity.
"How are you feeling, dear?" the nurse asked, adjusting the IV drip attached to Lena's arm.
"Where…?" Lena's voice cracked, and she winced at the dryness of her throat.
"You're at St. Martin's General Hospital," the nurse explained. "We were waiting for you to wake up." She set the clipboard down and poured a glass of water, handing it to Lena.
"Thank you," Lena muttered, sipping gratefully.
The nurse excused herself suddenly, her voice filled with urgency as she said, "I'll be right back. I need to inform the officers that you're awake." Before Lena could respond, the nurse rushed out the door.
'...officers?'
Moments later, the door reopened, and three police officers stepped inside. They each carried a professional air, though their expressions ranged from concern to skepticism. The officer in the lead, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair, spoke first.
"I'm Detective Ryan Carter. These are Officers Powell and Harding," he said, gesturing to the younger men behind him. "We've been waiting for you to wake up."
"Who are you?" Lena asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "What's going on? Why am I here?"
Detective Carter's expression softened.
"You were found unconscious on the highway last night, after what appeared to be a kidnapping. We brought you here to recover."
"A highway?" Lena blinked, trying to piece together the fragmented memories. "I… don't remember."
"That's alright," Officer Powell interjected kindly. "You're safe now, and we'll answer all your questions. But we'll need you to come with us to the station later to give a full statement."
Lena rubbed her temples, overwhelmed.
"This doesn't make any sense. I don't even know where I am."
"You're in Sklinden city," Harding replied, his voice calm but wary.
"Sklinden?" Lena repeated, the name unfamiliar. Her mind raced. How did she get here?
Detective Carter stepped forward.
"We'll explain everything once we're back at the station. For now, try to stay calm."
---
By late morning, Lena was discharged. Still dressed in the same hospital gown, she was ushered into a police cruiser that whisked her away to the station. Every street they passed looked alien, and the sprawling city skyline loomed like something out of a movie.
Inside the station, the officers led her to a small interrogation room. The walls were a dull gray, the air stale with the faint smell of old coffee. A single table and two chairs sat in the center of the room, illuminated by a fluorescent light.
Detective Carter sat across from her, flipping open a notepad.
"Alright, Miss…?"
"Lena. Lena Kim," she answered, her voice wavering.
"Lena, can you tell us anything about what happened last night?"
Lena hesitated, staring at her hands folded on the table.
"I don't know how to explain it. One moment I was in my dad's studio, and then…" She trailed off, the words sounding ridiculous even in her own head.
"Go on," Carter urged, his pen poised.
Lena took a deep breath.
"I went to check on my dad's studio. There was this strange glow coming from his computer. I touched it, and…" She paused, her voice trembling. "I was sucked into it. The next thing I knew, I was standing on a highway in the middle of the night."
Silence hung in the air as the detective stared at her, his brow furrowed. He glanced at Officer Powell, who stood by the door, before leaning forward.
"Sucked into a computer?" Carter repeated slowly.
"Yes," Lena insisted, her voice growing desperate. "I know it sounds crazy, but it's the truth! I swear!"
The detective set his pen down, his expression unreadable.
"Lena, are you sure that's what happened? You didn't see or hear anything else before waking up on the highway?"
"No!" Lena said, her frustration mounting.
"That's all I remember. I don't know how I got there or what happened after!"
A heavy silence filled the room as Lena's words hung in the air.
Detective Carter leaned forward, his brow furrowing deeply.
"Miss Kim, where are you from? If you can give us your address, we'll escort you home and ensure your safety."
Lena hesitated, her fingers fidgeting in her lap.
"I live in Duxhing with my father."
The officers exchanged confused glances, their expressions shifting to a mixture of skepticism and concern.
"Duxhing?" Carter repeated, tilting his head. "Where exactly is that?"
Lena looked at them, puzzled by their reactions.
"Duxhing. It's a major city in Frecswick state."
Detective Carter sat back slightly, his eyes narrowing. The room seemed to grow colder.
"Frecswick?" he echoed slowly, as if testing the word on his tongue.
"Yes," Lena said firmly, though unease began to creep into her voice.
The younger officer, Powell, leaned toward Carter and muttered, "There's no Frecswick state, is there?"
Carter shook his head.
"No. Not here." Turning back to Lena, he asked carefully, "Do you mean Frecscia?"
"No," Lena replied, shaking her head emphatically. "I've never heard of Frecscia. I'm talking about Frecswick."
A heavy pause followed her words. Carter gestured for Officer Harding to check his phone. The officer quickly tapped at the screen, his frown deepening as he scanned the results. He turned the phone around to show Carter.
"Nothing," Harding said quietly. "No record of Frecswick. And Duxhing doesn't exist either—not here, not anywhere."
Carter's jaw tightened. He glanced at Lena, whose face had turned pale. "Miss Kim," he began, his voice measured, "there's no such place as Duxhing or Frecswick in this country. Are you absolutely certain about what you're telling us?"
"Yes!" Lena's voice rose, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "I'm not mistaken. I've lived in Duxhing my whole life. I don't understand why you're saying it doesn't exist!"
The younger officer, Powell, cleared his throat nervously.
"Detective, maybe she's… confused? The drugs, perhaps?"
Carter rubbed his temples, clearly torn between disbelief and caution.
"Miss Kim," he said slowly, "do you have any history of mental health concerns? Stress, anxiety, or anything that could affect your memory?"
"I'm not crazy!" Lena snapped, her voice trembling with anger and desperation. "I know where I'm from, and I know what I'm saying!"
"No one is accusing you of anything," Carter said, raising a calming hand. "But you've been through a traumatic experience. You were drugged during the kidnapping. It's possible the substance affected your memory or caused hallucinations."
"No," Lena insisted, shaking her head. Tears welled up in her eyes. "It wasn't a hallucination. I'm telling the truth. Please, you have to believe me!"
Carter sighed, closing his notepad and setting it aside. His face was unreadable, but his tone softened. "Alright, Lena. For now, let's focus on helping you rest and recover. We'll revisit this later."
---
Later that day, Lena was taken to a modest hotel near the station. The room was small but clean, with plain walls and simple furniture. An officer stood outside her door, and a doctor arrived shortly after to examine her.
"You're in good physical health," the doctor confirmed after a thorough check-up. "No lasting effects from the drugs they administered, but you need rest. Your body and mind have been through a lot."
Lena thanked him quietly, though her mind was far from calm.
Once she was alone, she sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the blank walls. Her thoughts churned in a chaotic swirl. What is happening to me? How could Duxhing not exist?
Her memories of home were vivid. The familiar streets, her father's studio, even the small bakery on the corner of their neighborhood—it all felt so real. And yet, these officers claimed none of it existed.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she buried her face in her hands. "What's going on?" she whispered to herself, her voice cracking.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a strange noise. It started faint, a low, melodic hum, like the soft vibration of a tuning fork. Lena froze, her heart racing. Slowly, she turned toward the source of the sound.
Her eyes widened in shock.
On the wall opposite the bed, glowing white letters began to appear, one by one, as if an invisible hand were writing them in real time.
'To be continued…'
Lena's breath hitched. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst from her chest.
"What… is this?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
The room's air seemed to shift, growing heavier and charged with energy. Before Lena could move, the hum deepened, and a swirling white portal materialized on the wall beneath the glowing words.
The portal pulsed with an unnatural light, its edges flickering like flames. It radiated a strange magnetic force that seemed to tug at her entire being.
"No," Lena whispered, backing away instinctively. Her legs hit the bed, and she grabbed the bedpost for support.
The pull grew stronger. Objects in the room rattled, drawn toward the glowing vortex. Lena gripped the bedpost tighter, her knuckles turning white.
"Stop it!" she shouted, though she knew no one could hear her.
The portal's energy became unbearable. With a sudden, violent surge, Lena was yanked forward, her scream echoing through the room as she was pulled into the light.
And then, just like that, the room fell silent.
The portal vanished, leaving no trace of its presence. The glowing words faded into darkness, and the hotel room stood empty...