I woke up with the most horrid headache I could ever remember. In addition to my head, my whole body felt like it had just gone through a fight with an 18-wheeler, bouncing from one lane to the next, only to be strapped to the front of a belly-flopping giant.

I could barely open my eyes.

“This sucks.” I moaned. “Am I having the worst hangover of my life?”

It wasn’t that I had a ton of experience drinking. However, I tended to keep up with each and every one of those. Even when drunk, I could clearly remember what I did the next day. So I ended up having both the physical reminder of the hangover and the emotional reminder that I couldn’t dance to help keep me from excess.

However, this time, I couldn’t remember a thing about how I ended up where I was. The only time I came close to this was in college when I ended up in someone else’s dorm room. It took me a good three minutes to realize that I wasn’t in my own dorm as they all looked the same, and then I remembered that I had taken a ride from someone I’d met “back to school.” It turned out that school wasn’t mine and not in the same state, but that was the way things sometimes worked out.

I could hear the birds as my senses returned to me. I was outside, in a park, maybe.

I clawed my fingers through my hair and pulled out leaves and clumps of something else. When I got my eyes to accept that the light, while painful, wasn’t going to kill me, I looked around. I was in the middle of a forest with a mix of both coniferous and deciduous trees. The ground sloped slightly upward not far from where I was.

“Where in the world am I?” I whispered out hoarsely.

Most of the bushes and vines of the underbrush were leafless, but this area still had a number of yew-like bushes that provided some green. Enough that I could tell there was a rise but not enough that it appeared I’d have to climb to move in that direction. The underbrush appeared to be mostly small bushes with tall grass between. Much like I’d expect to see in any wooded area I had once hiked.

The spot where I’d spent the night seemed to be next to a rather large pine tree, and my bed appeared to be several years of needles. The cool temperature and buds on the deciduous trees seemed to mess with my sense of reason as well.

Yesterday was the first day of real summer. I remember because my AC on my car went out on my way to work, and we were slated to hit over 100 degrees. This meant that the spring I was looking at couldn’t be anywhere on Earth. Even if I’d been drugged and shipped down to Australia, they wouldn’t be in spring.

I had somehow lost three seasons of my life and ended up in spring and in the middle of the woods without any memory of it. The most likely thing was that I had suffered some sort of trauma and forgotten several months of my life. There were several relationships that I’d had and wished I could forget, but they seemed to still be intact in my vice-like memory.

“None of this is making sense.” I mumbled as I was taking in my surroundings.

I was trying to piece together what had happened to me. The last I remembered, I was speaking to one of the managers in the call center I worked in. Then I remembered a bright flash and a lot of pain.

I didn’t recall losing body control and falling down, so the light and pain could’ve been external. The pain that I felt wasn’t localized like an injury but rather all over. If it was sudden, then it would have to have been an attack since I was in good health, according to my doctor. Maybe I’d been drugged. I’d been reluctant to do anything harder than liquor, so I didn’t know the effects other things would have on me. So, it could’ve been that I was drugged for some reason while at work, and then ended up here at least nine months later.

I had a lingering feeling that I knew what happened but couldn’t put my finger on it.

I sighed and placed my head in my hands. My face felt like I had rolled in the mud and it dried or I was peeling from a long day at the beach. Then after a few more moments, I started to climb to my feet. As I stood up, my gaze landed on myself. I was shocked to see that all I appeared to have on was a fur tunic and some fur wraps on my legs bound with a leather cord. I could see my arms had bright red lines where I had been scratching. There were little green flakes of something all over me.

I felt up at my face and found a several-month-old beard, and my normally shaved head was now also hairy with months of growth. When I looked at my hands, they seemed different than I remembered. While I’d always had large hands, these were thicker, like I’d been doing real work for years and not typing and talking.

When I ran my hands through my hair, I felt my scalp had clumps like bad dandruff. I picked at it for a moment and pulled out a chunk of dandruff that looked like a green scale with holes in it for hair to run through. As I ran my hands over my body and through my beard and hair, I found more scales.

As I was looking at the scales in my hand, I noticed that on the ground were piles of green and brown scales. So many that I was worried that something big had molted here and might come back. Most of the scales on the ground were half the size of a tooth but many were as big as my hand. There was a whole set of them that looked to be laying on the ground in the shape of a torso.

I took the time to look over my whole body or at least what I could examine. It all seemed to be the same body I was used to, yet different. The difference was that there was working muscle all over and none of the office fat. I wasn’t built up with show muscle, but rather filled out with muscle built from labor.

My body ache and headache were gone, either because the effects weren’t long-lasting or because of the shock of what I was seeing. I was somewhere that I had no idea where “here” was. I was in a much fitter body than I remembered ever having. With lizard scales on the ground and flaking off my skin. Saying that I was worried and confused would be putting things mildly.

I put my back up against the pine tree I’d just stood up from and slid back down to the ground. I spent several minutes having a panic attack.

I first started to regulate my breathing to have oxygen where I needed it.

After that, I closed my eyes to have fewer external stimuli.

Then I’d think through everything that was going on and categorize my issues.

That was what always messed me up. I was great at sorting through problems based on info that I had, but I also had to stop collecting it to figure out what was going on. If I didn’t sit down and shut up and think, then I’d go into a normal person panic attack. However, if I took the time to think, then I could figure out what was going on. This was one of those times that I almost went into a normal person panic attack before I was able to pull myself into problem-solving.

I thought through the issues that I was facing. Then I started talking my way through the problems. I would rather have written them out but for lack of pen and paper I did the next best thing.

I took a deep breath and started going over things, “I got no clue where I am or how I got here. I can’t think of a good reason I would ask to be dropped in the woods.”

I dry chucked and kept going, “Or get caught dead with a blasted fur tunic on.”

I took a few moments to breathe deep. I had to sort this out or I was going to lose it all.

“Okay, so if I am dressed this way then I’m going to say I put the crap on. If that’s what happened, then I’m probably on some survival show and I hurt my head after getting here so that’s why I don’t remember anything.”

I took another couple of breaths while looking at the ground. “Of course someone could have messed with my memories and dropped me here like this or I could have escaped from some place.”

Then I whispered to myself, “Or I might finally have lost it at work and broken down in that soul crushing place.”

I ran my hands through my hair looking for signs of trauma. The only odd thing other than hair I felt were more of the loose dandruff scales.

“Okay so option one of recent head trauma is gone. Not sure if that is good or bad.”

I took a closer look at my body. My muscles were tight and hard so that meant that I was unlikely to be in a loony bin. However I could guess that I was in some sort of labor camp. That meant the idea that I was put here was smaller, and the idea that I escaped was greater. So that meant that I needed to figure out where I was and find people who could help me get away.

Of course, the flip side was the hangover feeling; the fact that I couldn’t remember yesterday and how I got here would lead to the idea that I was dropped off here. Either way, the way forward was the same.

“I need to find a road and then find someone who can help me so that I can get my life back or get protected from whoever is messing with me.” I muttered with a little bit of force.

Resolved that I now had a way forward, I stood up and took in my surroundings once again. The first time I looked around, I missed the pile of furs on the ground just a few feet from where I was standing. They were the same color as the pine needles, and I had been interrupted in my scan of the immediate area by the discovery of my fur tunic and slight panic from that.

I walked over to the furs and started to move them around to discover that they were, in fact, a pack. It was a wooden frame with one large fur pouch attached with leather binding and had a flap that closed in on top of it and tied from the flap to the base of the pack. The straps were fur and appeared that they could only adjust by tying them tighter where they connected.

As I knelt to open the fur pack, I heard a twig break behind me.

I looked over my right shoulder to see a mangy wolf. Its right eye was missing, and fur was hanging off of it in sheets. The one eye that it had looked at me with emptiness.

I got a deep sense of dread from this thing. Dogs of all kinds bugged me, but this one was creepy. Not only did it look sick, but it also acted wrong.

I said in the calmest voice I could, “No need for a fight doggie, we can be friends.”

I slowly moved the backpack from the ground to my left shoulder. I risked a glance at the ground and saw more items there. A smaller bag that looked like a shabby bota bag from Walmart, a long stick, several smaller items and a few pouches.

I looked back at the dog and noticed that while I had been looking away, it moved about ten feet closer to me. It wasn’t making any sounds at all, which worried me even more. I looked around to see if there were more wolves but didn’t see any.

“Its okay, no need to come closer.” I was almost warbling with my voice at this point.

I felt the sweat form on my head and my hands were shaking. I shifted myself around to put the pile of stuff between the dog and me and shifted the pack entirely onto my back. Then using just my peripheral vision, I snagged up the bota bag and got its strap around my neck. Then I messed up. I looked down to see what else was there.

I heard the movement of paws on the ground, and I snapped my head back up quickly to see the dog at an all-out run at me. I grabbed the stick that was there and held it out in front of me. As I did, I saw that I was holding it backwards; the stick was a fire-hardened spear.

“JUST YOU STOP!” I yelled.

I spun the spear to point it at the wolf when I saw that it stopped again and looked at me. The sickly beast didn’t move at all. Instead, its one eye unblinkingly stared at me. I started to kneel down to grab more off the ground when it began to move slowly towards me. Then, as I stood back up entirely, it stopped.

I tried again, but it moved closer to me. It was now just over 10 feet away. If I gave it any chance, it would be on me before I could do anything about it.

“Shoo!” I yelled as I jabbed the point at the wolf.

It didn’t make a sound, and it didn’t move. It was like it knew I wasn’t close enough to hurt it, and it didn’t care about me yelling.

“Shoo! Dog run!” I yelled again to no avail.

The nasty-looking wolf stood and started toward me with a slow walk. It made no sounds. It just had that stupid dog smile like it knew something I didn’t. I began to back away because I was getting worried. It wanted me to move, and it wasn’t giving signs that it feared me at all.

As I backed up, it kept its slow, leisurely walk towards me. I noticed that the dog’s breathing was so shallow that I couldn’t even see the sides move. It just walked, looking at me. It’s one eye locked on me.

I backed up even more. The wolf’s speed didn’t change. It just walked up to where the stuff was and laid down. It didn’t even look at what was there; it just put its body over the last items that were on the ground and looked at me.

I took a step forward, and it started to stand. Whatever it wanted, it had and was willing to fight me for it. I wasn’t happy because I wanted what was in the small pouches, even if I didn’t know what was in them.

When I stepped back, the wolf settled back down again. I was stuck. I could attack the beast and hope for the best, or I could leave what was there and hope that I didn’t need it. I had a feeling that whatever I chose, I would regret it for a while.

I sided with caution this time and started to walk backwards away from the beast. When I put twenty feet between us, he laid his head down on his front paws like he was taking a nap and slowly closed his one eye.

I took a step back towards the wolf now that the eye was closed, and that eye snapped back open, and he stood. I backed up, but he didn’t settle back down.

“Okay, Okay! You win!”

I was done. I didn’t need what was there, and I wasn’t about to try to fight it even though it looked half dead. I was worried about it being able to sense my location with its eyes closed.

I was about to start backing away more when I heard it growl. It was the first sound that it had made and it sounded sick and rattly. It was also loud enough to be scary. The wolf was bearing its teeth and started forward again. This time at a trot.

I took off in a dead sprint. That half-dead wolf thing scared me and I wanted to put some distance between us. After I ran as far as I could, which honestly wasn’t very far, I started to breathe hard. I kept pushing because I heard a sharp bark from behind me.

I was running so fast that vines and branches kept slapping me in the face. I was staggering around breathing hard and right when I would slow down. I would hear something behind me. A bark or a snap of a twig. I kept looking behind for the gruesome-looking wolf but I couldn’t see it.

I don’t know how long I ran or even in what direction. I was moving away from the thing chasing me. Then I tripped and plowed my face into the soft muddy ground of the forest. I scrambled to my feet covered in mud and looked back. While I didn’t see anything I thought there must have been something so I started to jog because I just couldn’t run anymore.

After half an hour I hadn’t heard anything behind me. I took the chance to stop and sit facing the way I came with my back on a tree and look through the backpack I had been carrying. The wolf had broken me out of my musing about where I was and what I was going to be doing, but now that the danger had subsided somewhat, it was time to take stock of what I had.

“Wasn’t bad enough that I’m lost and sore, I had to have my stuff stolen by some sort of half dead wolf and then chase me!” I grumbled.

I opened the pack, and was thrilled to find that there were items in it.

The first thing that I removed was a large fur skin that looked to be a blanket or perhaps a cloak. I looked it over and found a very primitive bone button and a slit for it to pass through. After I removed the fur, I found a few more items; the first was a large horn that had one end closed off, and the other end was warm. I knew from somewhere in my memories that this was a fire horn and that it would keep an ember hot and ready to start a fire for days.

As I was looking at the fire horn I was muttering. “There’s no way that this will work to keep a coal hot for days. These things have to be changed out every few hours for a new one… Yet something tells me this one will last and that I have had it last that long.”

The next thing out were two small glass jars, each holding a black liquid. I got why I’d have a fire horn when trying to escape from someplace, but I was completely confused as to why I brought ink and the two quills that were next to the ink.

I then pulled out ten tubes that each had a rolled piece of vellum in them. When I examined each one, I saw that they were all blank. Then I found a little four-ounce hammer along with something that looked like a very light punch. Finally, at the bottom of the bag, I found two books.

I looked up at the sky and let out a long sigh. “What the hell was I thinking packing this crap. I should have food, and tools, if I was hiking or running. Not books and ink and scrolls.”

I shook my head and pulled out both books. They were both blue with writing down the spine in a language that I’d never seen before. While I could tell that the letters were static, they seemed to move some when I looked at them. It was a very odd sense, but that might just have been the way letters looked in this language.

“I’ve got to trust I had a good reason for grabbing these dumb things. Might as well take a look at them. Even if I can’t read the outside there’s got to be something inside worth bringing. Maybe charts or a map or something”

I was squatting down by the bag when I opened the book. At first, nothing happened as I flipped a few pages trying to make heads or tales of what I was seeing. All the words were in the same language as what was on the spine, and there appeared to be no pictures or diagrams. However, after a few seconds of staring at the book, I saw a box appear in front of me and I jumped back.

Since I was squatting at the time, it was more of a falling back and then a crab walking scramble back as I was chased by this blue light. It took me a few moments to come to grips with the fact that it was a text box pop-up and not something attacking me. However, during those few moments, I wasn’t proud of my behavior, as my voice might have gone up a few octaves as I swatted at the thing in my face.

The message, which showed very much like a HUD would in a video game, gave a straightforward message which was both easy to understand and hard to grasp the meaning.

Would you like to learn the Skill

Script?

YES/No

When I looked away from the direction I’d been, the pop-up disappeared… Now I was sure that there were some people who’d be happy and try to convince themselves that they hadn’t just seen what they had seen. But, on the other hand, I tended to be more of the type that would see if they could repeat the process to get the odd thing that happened, to happen again. So I went back to the book and picked it up off the ground where I dropped it when I was trying to get away from the pop-up message and opened it again. After about five seconds, the same message came up again.

At this point, I was getting closer to the idea that I was some failed government experiment with new technology and that I might even be in some sort of field test. I had a built-in HUD that interacted with at least some parts of the world around me. This seemed to be something that was right out of Sci-Fi.

“Whoa, this is cool,” I muttered, catching myself just before it became a yell.

I took a seat and looked at the book again. It was asking if I wanted to learn a skill. So This had to be part of the testing that they were doing or that I was escaping from. Either way, I wasn’t sure what all Script would teach me. I already knew how to write in cursive, so that shouldn’t be what this was. Yet, it was something that I wanted to see if I could learn.

Perhaps they had a way to force knowledge into my head. If so, that might explain why I didn’t remember the past nine months or so; if they could put something in, then they could take something out as well, I surmised.

I looked intently at the pop-up and realized that I had no way to interact with it. I tried to poke the yes, but my finger didn’t touch anything. It was odd as my hand didn’t pass through the letters but beyond them. They were the top thing in my vision and were also somewhat translucent. I then tried to say, “Yes,” however that brought no results. I then tried to focus my vision on the spot where yes was thought, “yes.” That last one is what triggered the reaction from the HUD.

Error as a Wild Human you're illiterate.

You are unable to learn any skills from books until you learn to read.