This will be the beginning to a story that I've been meaning to start. Criticism is welcome just try to keep it constructive. :D Also, I will be editing this post a lot in an attempt to make this actually feel like a chapter, hopefully it will work out well. I'll probably also end up posting character sheets and such. Kind of a noob at writing stories but I'll try and keep it as well-written as I possibly can.
Title will be placed here later
In the lonely country lay a house, old, creaky, and ready to fall. A young man about the age of 21 stood and talked to a construction worker. He had been pleading for five minutes not to tear it down, but they didn't seem to care. He saw no emotion on any worker's face. It bothered him, but he decided to ignore it. It wasn't that he was hiding in the old house, nor was he currently living in there, but it was his favorite place to go to as a child, and now it was all about to be gone. He could already see a man holding blueprints, which he could only assume was for after his childhood home was destroyed and it's leftover swept away by various different construction vehicles. He was not the smartest guy you've ever met, but he knew enough not to mess most things up. He turned around, looking away from the house, and headed back to his car. He had trouble getting his licence, and he got it just the year before. For some reason, he had so much more trouble with driving, though he didn't understand why. He understood the concept, and what the instructor was saying. Heck, he could tell you just about everything she said. He put the keys in, started the ignition, and pressed the pedal. He heard the screeching of tires and immediately took his foot of the pedal. I do this every time... He told himself. He went to take his vehicle out of park but when he looked, it wasn't there. What the... He thought, but before he could finish, he felt the wind from a fist flying toward him. Before he could react, he was hit in the temple and knocked out.
The young man awoke with a sharp pain in his head. He was covered in bruises, and he assumed they were making sure he wasn't going to be doing anything. He was laying on the ground in a small but sturdy-looking cottage. It seemed awkward to him, and he had expected something less... cozy. He laid there for roughly fifteen more minutes, finally deciding he'd best see if he could get away and find some herbs to take care of some if not all of his injuries. He slowly got up, wincing at the pain he was in. They weren't normal bruises, they felt like they were down to the bone. He soon realized how much agony he'd have to go through. He was in shape, and had forced himself through pain as to build a tolerance, but no tolerance he'd ever try to build would suffice even a smidge for what he felt. He looked around a bit and where he was laying previously was a puddle of blood. He searched his body and saw a gash in his calf, which he decided explained why he could hardly move, nevertheless walk. He made his way towards the door, wondering if he'd even make it there. He couldn't tell how serious it was, but he knew the gash needed to be taken care of immediately. About five minutes later he reached the door. He looked around outside but no one was to be seen. It was as though they just left him there and went on their marry way. He searched himself and found nothing missing. He glanced at the gash, as it had started bleeding again. Apparently someone had stopped it earlier. It made him wonder though. Did someone want him alive, or was this just some way to make him suffer longer? He shook the thought and refocused on the situation. He was getting dizzy from the blood loss, and try as he might, could not devise what to do next. It was obvious he would faint. He could hardly get around, had no idea what to use, and was about ready to die. Even if he could stop the pain, where was he? Allowing the dizziness to overcome him, he crept over to the bed inside the cottage, and hardly made it there before he fainted from blood loss.
To his surprise, he awoke in a rather comfortable manner and a lot of the pain had left. He glanced at his leg and saw it was bandaged and was no longer bleeding. A lady from across the room looked at him and paced over.
"I was so worried about you! You were at the brink of death! I fixed ya up best I could, so you should be feeling a lot better now." She said in a kind voice. She looked slightly older ,but he couldn't tell if it was from work, or if she was just that old. "I think it's best you go back to bed. You're not actually fully healed, and you'll get better a lot faster if you do."
"Ma'am, I appreciate the help and all, but I feel fine." He said. He began to stand up, but not even half way to standing up he collapsed and felt familiar pains from earlier come back. They receded as soon as he got back down, but what just happened was enough for him to decide to stay.
"I told you. Now get some more rest, I'll take care of everything. I'll wake you up when I know you're healed." She retorted, though not in a rude way. He laid back down and almost as soon as his head hit the pillow he was asleep. He awoke hours later, though there was no one there. He got up with ease, and felt better than he had in years! He joyfully walked outside and looked around for the kind lady that had helped him.
"So you're feeling better, eh? I thought I told you sleep until I get back!" She yelled as she pulled out a dagger and struck him from behind. He collapsed and felt poison rushing through his veins. He felt as though he was about to explode. Just before he felt it was the end, he felt a soft hand touch him. everything around him disappeared and he awoke in his bed. It was just a dream. It still left him suspicious of her though, because he was paranoid about trusting others. It didn't seem so easy to trust her anymore, but he didn't let it get to him.
"You aren't fully healed, but I thought you could use some food." She said in a very quite voice, almost as though she was whispering. He couldn't tell if she always talked like that, but she was petite and the way she looked in seemed right. She handed him a plate holding fish and bacon. "We didn't have any eggs, so I thought fish would be an okay substitute."
"Oh it's fine, I'm just glad to have something to eat." He responded, smiling.
"So what's your name?" She asked him.
"My name? I..." He stopped. What's happening? He thought. I can't remember who I am, or why I'm even here! "I don't have a name..." He answered awkwardly. At least he didn't anymore.
I'll be adding more soon, but I was wondering if this was any good so far. I always get paranoid when starting a story.