Re-Bourne
Prologue: A Single Lost Leaf
It was the sound of the water that first roused him. That gentle sloshing eased him back into the world of the living, the warm tropical air wrapping him in a soothing blanket. He could smell the ocean. Hear the waves crashing upon the rocks.
It was loud. And it echoed.
Annoying.
He shifted, eyes shut in a grimace as waves of agony brought him closer to awareness. A hiss of pain escaped his lips, echoing all about him before becoming lost in the roar of the waves. His eyes snapped open, iridescent green focusing on naught but a deep velvety emptiness.
He shifted uneasily, his body struggling to snap to full alert. His instincts were screaming in uneasiness, but it was like trying to pull oneself out of a sandpit. His consciousness fought valiantly against it; he felt drowsy, drugged.
Suddenly, he noticed the warm, salty water lapping gently against his legs and sides. Felt the sharp rocks beneath his back and head. It did not take a genius or prodigy to figure out something was very wrong.
Consciousness came suddenly, brutally, as he greedily gulped a lungful of air for what seemed like the first time in years. His lungs suddenly erupted in a fit of coughing that lasted for an eternity. Kami, his chest hurt like hell!
Where in the hell was he? Slowly he sat up, testing his body for further aches and pains, seeing what hurt and what didn't. Blindly he groped around, feeling his way as he rolled onto his hands and knees. He sunk several inches into wet sand and his finger nails scraped solid stone. Looking around, his eyes gradually adjusted after a few moments. He suddenly spied a minute point of light a ways down from him, the small amount of illumination bringing the cave into focus.
"Ugh," he grunted, shaking his head sending droplets of water scattering in all directions. Tufts of hair fell wetly into his eyes. Gingerly he moved them out from view.
He stumbled to his feet, lurching to one side before catching himself on a stone wall. Something twisted inside his chest and gently he cradled his arms to himself. Curses echoed about for several lingering moments before being swallowed by the dark. His legs held and, step by wobbly step, he carefully made his way out of this watery hellhole. He took stock of his surroundings as he emerged.
A full moon and cloudless starry night awaited him at the mouth of the cavern. Pure white moonlight reflected and shimmered on the ocean's waves, illuminating the white froth and shells scattered along the beach. Sand and stone crunched softly beneath his sandaled feet as he stumbled further out onto the shoreline. Dozens of gulls called loudly overhead, neither mindful nor caring of the late hour. He looked about as he shuffled several yards further down one stretch of beach, but he saw that he was completely alone. The entirety beach was deserted. No footprints marred the sand, nor were they're any lights strung along the shore.
Still cradling his chest, he dropped solidly onto the wet, hard-packed sand. His head was beginning to pound. He could feel the blood rushing through his body with every single beat of his heart. What the fuck had happened to him?
He couldn't remember.
There was nothing before the cave. Nothing at all. His eyes unfocused as he blankly stared off into the distance, brow furrowing in thought, but his entire mind remained blank. It was like a piece of slate wiped clean. There were indistinct feelings, impressions, and surreal images flashing before him. His mind grasped wildly at them but caught naught, the memories slipping through his fingers like water. Insubstantial and fleeting, like a dream, long forgotten as soon as you awake.
He struggled to suppress the dejected feelings welling up from within. Looking down, he stared blankly into a tide pool by his feet, the still water reflecting his image like a mirror.
The vivid green eyes staring back at him were those of a stranger. The locks of white hair that fell over his eyes were likewise unfamiliar. He leaned down, peering closer at the reflection of himself.
Needle thin, black inkings, three lines on either side, traveled across each cheekbone, before vanishing around and underside of his jaw line. There were long strings of words and symbols spiraling around each mark, the meanings of which escaped him. A single red slash came up from one cheek, its point ending just below his left eye. He looked fairly young; eighteen, maybe nineteen at the most.
He grimaced at the man looking back at him. Then he smiled. Bared his teeth. His incisors stuck out noticeably, looking slightly intimidating. A wry grin appeared. He'd almost intimidated himself. He stuck his tongue out. He inched even closer to the surface of the water, his face becoming somber.
He looked directly into his own eyes and he spoke softly.
"Dare desu ka?" Who are you?
His voice was fairly deep, with a slight rolling timber to it. Pleasant sounding, he thought absently.
"Anata-no namae wa?" What is your name?
Of course, he received no answer.
Unsatisfied, he rolled back onto his haunches, trying to relax his aching muscles. His head pounded painfully, his chest ached and burned like it was on fire. The rest of his body wasn't fairing much better.
Looking down, he checked out his attire and was left speechless. His dark green vest with its multitudes of pockets was left in tatters, strips hanging limply from his shoulders. The dark blue shirt he wore beneath it fared no better with its own rips, tears and holes. Honestly there were more holes than material left in it. There was a gaping tear that stretched from the middle of his chest almost to his shoulder, its edges blackened and charred. He lifted the ruined shirt up and away from his chest and peered at the lighter patches of fresh skin. They contrasted sharply against the rest of his tanned hide.
"Damn. I'd hate to see the other guy," he mused in bleak humor.
He checked the pockets on his dark blue pants thoroughly, but in vain. There was nothing of consequence to be found. No identification, nor papers. He had a single pouch strapped to his left leg which held a single, simple knife of rugged design. It was multi-edged, almost triangular, with a round ring at the end of its handle. He frowned at it in thought as he tested its heft. It was definitely heavier than it appeared at first glance.
He slipped the knife back into its pouch as he slid gingerly to his feet. Already the aches and pains were beginning to fade into the background. However, they were quickly replaced as hunger began gnawing at his stomach.
"Well, can't stay here, can I?" he sighed.
Shrugging, he picked a direction at random and began walking. Uncaring about which direction he went. After all, it was the beach, surely there had to be a town of some sort fairly close by.
Unknowingly to the young man, a half buried hitai-ate bearing a marred symbol of a leaf juts out of the sand, forgotten like the memories that had once defined him.
Author's Note:
This is simply an idea I had while watching the latest Jason Bourne movie. I'm posting this (and maybe a chapter or two more) to gauge readers' reactions to see if its an idea worth pursuing. I don't believe I've read a story with this type of premise yet so I'm hoping for a good reaction. I'm planning on staying true to the feel of the Bourne movies: lots of action, mystery, and suspense, with a good heaping of romance. Read and review, my friends. Read and review.