This is part one of an i-don't-know-how-many-parts story. It depends on the feedback.
He opened his eyes to a world he did and did not know. Who was he? What was he? He looked around taking in his surroundings. The trees were the same colour he remembered but something was wrong about them. The wet soil reminded him of a faint memory which disappeared before he could grasp it. The sun shone brilliantly like always, but it was as if he was seeing everything through a fog. He stood up, still wobbly from the…again the memory evaded him. What had happened?
He stared down at the clothes he was wearing. Pockets. There could be some clues in his pockets. He emptied them. Out came a few notes, some coins and a few other odds and ends. He rummaged through them. The notes looked like the normal Indian currency but again different. His memory was hazy and he couldn’t spot the difference. A piece of paper fell on the ground. He picked it up, his heart beating fast. It could hold an answer to his questions. His hands trembled as he opened it and at first he couldn’t understand what he saw. He flipped it around, looked at it upside down, turned it over, but all he could see was a number. A simple number.
He glanced at it a second time, looking for something he had missed. But it had only a number. That was all. All he knew of himself was a number. He crumpled the paper and stuffed it inside his pockets.
Where am I? Who am I? How did I get here? The questions seemed endless and the only answer lay in
that flimsy piece of paper. In DK5642.
He had to know where he was. And the easiest way of finding out was finding civilisation. If there is one in this place. He trudged along the forest path in the direction he thought was north. All the while he tried to remember who he was. What was he doing before he got in this place. Another memory flitted in his mind. Staying beyond his reach; taunting him. He groaned in frustration. What is happening to me?
He took out the piece of paper again. As long as there was light, he might as well make use of it. He stared at it. DK5642. He strained his mind to remember. Nothing. He hit a blank wall.
Dawn gave way to dusk and soon he found himself utterly alone, engulfed in darkness. An owl hooted in the distance and he could just make out the howl of a wolf. He shuddered. If he couldn’t get to a safe house soon, he would be animal chow by morning.
He spotted a faint light in the distance and his heart skipped a beat. The more he walked toward it, the more certain he was that it was not an illusion. An overwhelming sense of relief flooded him. He felt giddy. Away from civilisation meant away from himself. Finding people meant finding his soul.
A cool breeze ruffled the leaves and made him shiver. He had to get out of this place, fast…
“Any progress?” the white haired, man asked his assistant.
“DK5642 has made it to safe house one.”