Claudia awoke to the sound of an unfamiliar alarm.
Which wasn't an inherently absurd scenario, as she may have accidentally picked a different tune to play from her phone at 7:30am. Her fingers may have slipped on the touch screen menu, but the crux of the matter was that she had thankfully chosen an alarm that loud enough to wake her up.
The fact that it came from an unfamiliar clock, on an unfamiliar nightstand, was in indeed bizarre.
Being a person of minimal social activity, and considering that she spent her Friday night eating crackers alone in her room, it was entirely inconceivable that she had blacked out while drunk, and found herself in a stranger's bed. Though, she mentally filed away that excuse for later access, should no other tenable explanation arise.
Within the minute of waking, her heart was already pounding. Her stomach felt something like a small container of jell-o, and she stayed immobilized under the covers, breathing in the alien-ness of her surroundings.
The smell was entirely new. A crisp, clean smell, contributed to by the no doubt recently laundered sheets – which comforted her, in that she was somewhere well cared for, with an air of professionalism. Something better than a hostel, a small inn maybe, that adhered to higher standards than most.
She was familiar with the concept of fugue states, and being lucid at this time, she determined that it was best to come to terms with this as a possibility and address the causes later. It could be days later than her last memory. Her mind could have shut off for weeks, or-
The date on the digital clock read "11.13"
Less than 8 hours, then.
She pulled back the covers and suppressed her surprise at the t-shirt and sweatpants pajama combo she was wearing, both of which she did not own – though both fit her alarmingly well.
"What the hell." Even as a whisper, her voice cracked, and panic rose up in her throat.
Nothing in the room was hers. A strange but appealing green shoulder bag hung from the back of a desk chair, dotted with an array of pins and buttons. As her head whipped around in search of anything recognizable, part of her hair fell across her eyes, and she focused on it - cross-eyed, and bewildered.
The door opened and Claudia startled, scrambling off the bed and onto her feet.
"Leena!"
Her RA stood in the doorway, with the same expression of patient frustration she'd given Claudia many times prior, yet under far different circumstances. Claudia held her breath for the explanation to follow, and yet, Leena regarded Claudia's stunned features with no inkling of consideration.
"Well, good morning to you, too. I'm sorry for barging in like this, but I've been calling for you to come downstairs for breakfast and you didn't reply."
Claudia's stomach pitched into a freefall. She drew back, mind racing, defensive walls thrown up around her mind. This was not the ordinary world.
"Artie's been waiting for about fifteen minutes – he's not upset yet, don't worry. He's enjoying the toast and muffins, but you and Steve need to get moving on your next assignment as soon as possible."
"Assignment…?" Claudia nearly whimpered, then swallowed her embarrassment.
Leena drew breath to reply, but stopped, and met Claudia's hesitant gaze. Something was turning behind her features, in what Claudia presumed was that same, characteristic RA scrutiny, and yet Claudia could not, for the life of her, determine if this was the same Leena, or a dream-Leena. And if the latter, what hidden faculty of her mind had suddenly allowed for this intensely vivid dream? She felt the same kind of uncomfortable vulnerability under the girl's gaze, whose brows furrowed into something between confusion and concern.
"I'll be right back," Leena spoke slowly, "Get dressed, and I'll come get you."
Claudia trailed after her at a distance.
Whatever place this was, whatever this Leena could possibly do before she came back to her, she would like to find out before she was caught off-guard.
The house appeared to be a modestly sized, two story place with an old-fashioned flair – nothing overwhelmingly old, just scattered antique décor to lend to what might have been a cozy feel. Claudia felt as if she were walking across a glass floor, as if the structure of the house might simply vanish, and this would blend into another equally vivid dream. But, in most cases, she could always subtly tell a dream from reality, even if her mind did not outright recognize it. The boundaries of dream environments always felt pliable, just the smallest bit influenced by the expectations of the dreamer – some horizon might contract or expand according to will. And yet, this place was more solidly bound than her life back home.
Voices drifted up the staircase, and she tiptoed down, acutely aware of how the steps in this place might creak. Leena's voice rose over the others, which briefly fell silent as she continued.
"…not right. Something about her is…slightly off."
"What, her aura's all wonky?" a male voice cut in.
"Pete, I'm being serious."
"Hey, nobody's laughing. I know how serious auras are."
"She-"
A clunking sound caused all heads to turn, as Claudia bumped into a cabinet and swore, massaging the offending hipbone. Several people were seated around a table, with various plates of partially eaten breakfast items in front of them, though Leena had been standing with her back to Claudia, addressing the group. They stared in cautious silence as she slunk toward the kitchen table, her eyes flicking around to each of their faces, struggling to recognize them.
"You okay, Claudia?" one asked.
Round face, a sharp chin, and pale blue eyes locked on inquiringly, underneath wide brows and a buzzed haircut. The other faces she was wholly thrown by, but this one seemed to initiate a mental connect-the-dots in her head.
"I'm…" she began. They waited – and it was their patience, and apparent concern for her that bewildered her more than anything. She returned back to the face of that one man, and a sudden recognition came upon her.
"You're the Buddhist guy." Claudia brought a hand up to her hanging jaw.
"Memory-altering artifact. I'm calling it right now," another man said, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head. Claudia recognized his voice as the one called Pete.
Another older man, stout, with grizzled hair and glasses held up both hands.
"Hold on, we're not calling anything. Now," he straightened up in his seat and peered at Claudia over his glasses, "Do you smell fudge?"
"Artie, are you kidding me-"
"Shhhh!" the older man glared at the speaker – a woman with long, curly-hair, a sharp outfit, and a completely indignant expression. The man returned his gaze to Claudia. "Do you smell fudge?"
Claudia couldn't slow down her breathing to ponder the scent in the air. If not a dream, then a hallucination and she was mad, and if not mad, then she was damned. She had somehow been lifted from her bed in the middle of the night, and Leena and Zen man were actors beyond her comprehension, engaging in an elaborate deception to some ends. Leena had certainly been critical of Claudia's encounter with the boy, unreasonably so – and Claudia quickly scrambled to tie ends together that weren't even that loose. She was mentally faltering, and she felt a ringing in her ears.
"Claudia?"
The ringing silenced. "I need to go home," she whispered.
The man named Artie leaned forward, as the others exchanged concerned expressions.
"Where do you live?"
"Russell Hall, fourth floor. NU." she sputtered.
All heads turned to the Buddhist, who had been watching Claudia intently through piercing eyes. His brows narrowed in confusion, and he spoke in a low tone.
"She's not lying."
The man named Artie removed his glasses and leaned forward, elbows on table, to rest his face in his hands. He rubbed deep circles across his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh.
"Leena, I need you to go to the Warehouse and run a full scan on the inventory for any missing artifacts, I'll meet you there in an hour. Pete, Myka – I'm giving the assignment to you, seeing as Claudia is indisposed until further notice. Steve, stay here, and make sure no further damage is done."