It was 2:00 AM and I could smell the smoke from the fires in Indonesia. It sank into everything, but I couldn't close the window because it was the only one I could open in the room I had claimed for my own. The crickets sang as I typed while little tremors ran down my arms from the electric fan blowing over my sweaty hands. I could have described myself as having been struck by a mood, but my former roommate spelled it out for me in a more objective way. I was a Hiki-NEET. That was true. That I was in a flunk and couldn't find some way out of it was also true. So curled into a ball of angst and self-consciousness to let my body catch up with my already-dead soul. Reading and gaming eased the transition, so that was what I did.

I nearly stopped scrolling when the dogs started barking. Other dogs or cats? Most likely. Thieves? Probably, but they'd either have been chased off by now or I'd be hearing someone climb over or break down the crappy bamboo fence. I stopped when they started whimpering. It wasn't pain. I had heard none of them yelp. I stood up and made my way to the living room and grabbed the machete sitting on top of a cardboard box, then carefully peeked out of the window.

It was a thing. My mind refused to process it. It looked like an inky mass of other things that could have been eyes, arms, mouths, teeth when I look back at the memory of it. Looking at it hurt, and I felt myself fraying at the edges. It raised something towards me.

All I knew was blackness.

I woke up in a room.

My head still ached, but it wasn't as bad as looking at it. I decided that wondering what unfathomable goal it was achieving by rummaging around in my backyard would best be saved for later. Now would be spent checking my surroundings, and then myself.

The room was simple, with a wooden floor and molding around the floor and ceiling. The walls were clean, painted something yellowish. A set of windows let sunlight into the room. The door was wood too. There were chairs for four around a round table, and a cabinet that sat near the bed. One door could have been the bathroom, and the other could have exited into a hallway. All in all, not the worst place to wake up in.

I got myself out from under the bed covers and looked at myself. Everything seemed to be in order, but I needed a mirror to get a better idea, and then an MRI and some other internal scanning to be mostly sure. Maybe I was already broken in the head and the everything was really some sick, fleshy approximation of walls, floor, and furniture. Regardless, I had all the body parts that I could feel and see, and I checked in the cabinet mirror to see if I still had my face.

I did. I didn't like it that much, but it was at least a confirmation that I hadn't been turned into an abomination. Yet. The headache was bearable, like a light pressure pressing out from my forehead. There was a glass of water on the table, so I drank that and checked the closet. It had clothes, some of which were my clothes but most weren't. They were my size, and seemed well-made. So I put on a pair of knee-length cotton shorts and a white t-shirt. I set aside a black jacket with a snowflake embroidered on the shoulder and breast, and black jeans for when I needed to go out. There were three pairs of Converse-style shoes, one of leather dress shoes, and hiking boots of some sort as well. I sighed and promised to myself to take care of the things.

I had just sat on my bed again when my foot bumped against something, which turned out to be the machete I had brought with me. Holding it in my lap sent the gears into motion and I checked the bedside table and under the bed. Apparently, I had been supplied with fuzzy slippers, while someone or something had taken the liberty of bringing my crappy old laptop along with me.

At least I thought it was my laptop. Same make, same brand, same everything except for the fact that it lacked damage. One of the hinges hadn't been broken and hastily repaired with epoxy and duct tape. The finish wasn't worn, and the labels read clear. It booted up in a few seconds, and I browsed through the files that were there. That is to say, all of them. I shut it down again after a few minutes and laid back on the bed.

What was that thing that I saw? Why would I be brought here? Perhaps it had been a defensive mechanism, perhaps it had a purpose. Were the two even connected? Was my family alright? Thinking about the possibilities made my head ache, but I'd come to a few conclusions: First, I needed to find out why I was here. Second, I shouldn't be worrying too much about my family as I had no way to know. Third: Wherever I was, I needed to survive.

I had missed the entry of a butler. "Master Schnee wants to see you, sir." He said politely.

I gulped and nodded. Assume 'Master Schnee' is powerful. Assume he would be pissed that I had somehow ended up on his property. Best to cooperate.

I sat up and got off the bed. The name sounded familiar. Schnee as in Schnee Dust? Probably. Need confirmation. "Should I wear anything? Are the clothes there even mine? And is that Mr. Schnee as in Schnee Dust Company?"

"He has been generous enough to stock your wardrobe." He said. "As for attire, no. He expects you to be on your best behavior, however. And yes. He is quite curious as to the circumstances of your arrival."

The shock didn't hit me until much, much later.

"Give me a few minutes, then."