《Out of Touch (BL)》Chapter 4: There is no "Real World"
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Jon sat straight up, face wet with sweat dripping down his cheeks. Or were those tears? A combination of both? He glanced around, expecting the large expanse of green fields and the view of the hunter’s back as he walked away. Instead, he was met with his room, quiet and peaceful, just the way he’d left it the night before.
Night before? He checked the clock on his desk. 10:00 a.m.? He missed morning class again!
He threw off the blankets and stumbled off the bed onto trembling feet. Catching himself on the desk, he needed to take a few breaths before he fell backwards. His head hurt something awful and his legs were extremely weak. This wasn’t how he felt yesterday when he woke up.
That dream! What the hell kind of dreamland was that? Why couldn’t he have interesting dreams—like going out on a date with a pretty college girl, or even something really corny like learning how to fly? Where the hell did his mind come up with that kind of convoluted imagery anyway? He never watched martial art movies, or drama shows, nor did he read anything like this... He wasn’t much a reader as it was.
He eased a breath in and out, calming his mind and his aches until he could finally stand without holding onto the chair. Maybe he was getting ill. He should take today off and lay back down, but he had enough dreaming.
When his roommates got back from class, they’d all wonder what the hell happened to him and he would just have to say—wait!
“Did I...” he muttered to himself.
Reaching up to his face with a shaky hand, he felt his features, his nose, his eyes, his ears. He was back to normal. But did he do something weird last night like the night before?
“Damn!” he grumbled.
Finding his jeans, he pulled those on over his boxers—though he didn’t remember going to bed in just underwear—and grabbed a shirt from the pile of clothes near the foot of the bed. He sniffed it, making sure it was clean enough, before slipping it over his head. Wait... this shirt was David’s. Oh well.
He left his backpack by the door and rushed out to the class building. It wasn’t class he was interested in, but finding out what the hell happened last night. If he did anything strange again, he might just have to drop out of university and go to trade school instead. He’d be the laughing stock of his dorm; of the whole damn school!
Downstairs, eyes glared at him like they had the day before. The sinking feeling came to him immediately. Oh shit, I did do something crazy last night. In his sleep, when he was in that dreamland, he talked strangely and did something stupid, again. He was sure of it.
A few people pointed, and the whispers circled around him.
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Jon stopped before he reached the door. “Well? What did I do last night, huh?” he yelled out to the group of people chatting. “Rip up someone’s book? Call someone names? Huh?”
Damn, I’ve lost it...
“Tell me!” He stomped over to the group. One woman’s eyes widened as he closed in. “You, did I do anything weird to you?”
She shook her head, then pointed to a guy opposite of her.
“You? What did I do?”
“Umm, Jon, right? You were just talking in some weird language last night. I-I was out here coming back from night class when you ran downstairs screaming. Scared some girl so bad, she dropped her soda all over the floor,” the guy answered. “Oh, but you did knock someone’s box of pizza out of their hands. Seriously, dude, if you’re taking something to help you study, I’d watch out. That stuff has really bad side effects.”
“I’m not on drugs,” Jon chided. “I’m asleep. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Hmm,” the guy thought a moment. “Sleeping pills?”
“Nothing, bro. I seriously am not taking anything, I just—“
“Excuse me, Mr. Chang?” An older voice interrupted.
Behind him stood a man in a fancy suit coat and tie, with pressed pants just as well taken care of as his coat. His long, black hair was slicked back with gel into a ponytail, and he wore glasses. This man could have been some kind of professional in the school, like a board representative, but Jon had never seen him before.
“Y-yes?” Jon answered.
“Jonathan Chang, my name is Edmund Giles and I’m from Student Services.” The man adjusted his glasses. “I’ve heard of some incidences in the dorm involving you and I’m here to investigate.”
“Um... sir, it’s nothing, really. It seems I’ve encountered a case of sleepwalking. Must be from the stress of mid-terms.” Jon let out a strained chuckle. He really tried his best to come up with a perfectly excusable reason why he was acting so strange.
“Is it?” The man raised a brow. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a couple of questions privately. Would you come with me?”
Jon’s shoulders tensed. Did Student Services really scrutinize things like this? Wouldn’t it be a police officer’s job to investigate? After that thought, Jon decided to just go along with the guy. He’d rather not get the police involved.
“O-okay.”
The man grinned, then turned and led Jon out of the dorm building. They walked toward the main office building where all the administrative offices were. But just before they reached the walk-way up to the doors, the man swerved to the sidewalk leading to the main parking lot.
Jon thought to stop and ask where they were going, but kept thinking what if the cops did get involved? He was already a laughing stock at school, he best call his folks now and ask for a transfer. Reaching into his pocket, he realized he forgot his cell phone up in his room.
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Edmund Giles, huh? This man walked with a slight limp. It kind of reminded him of the other hunter he saw in the dream world last night. A limp... The flash of black robes came back to Jon then. Black robes, a sword that glistened in the sun, and the bluish glow of a magical bow. The arrow which struck the troll’s back. The face... he never got a close look at the face...
“Wait,” Jon stopped. “You’re not from Student Services.”
The man paused, unwavering. “Pff... took you long enough.” Edmund pulled out a yellow piece of paper and flicked it toward Jon.
Before he could brush it away, the paper stuck to Jon’s chest and lit on fire. The flames burned his skin, and he pushed and pushed, trying to get it away. With a flash, the parking lot was gone, replaced by a square room with a table in the middle and a single lamp near the wall.
“Where am I?” Jon shrieked.
“Calm down,” Edmund said next to him, coolly. “No one can hear you here. Please, have a seat.”
Indeed, there was a chair pushed into the table, waiting for him but Jon wasn’t going to sit so politely. He clenched his fist and swung, missing Edmund and stumbling into the wall. He tried again, punching at the air. The man’s face was there just a second ago, he should have hit him square in the nose.
“Get over here and let me hit you!” Jon swung again, and again, hitting nothing every time.
After fighting with the air, and cursing up a storm, he froze lightheaded and wobbly. He caught himself before he fell to his knees. The headache was back, fiercer than before, and his body ached even worse. He clicked his tongue, not understanding why his body was punishing him like this.
“Had enough?” Edmund smiled crookedly. He pushed his glassed up his nose. “Very well, let me start. I’ve heard of the incidence where you tore a woman’s text book in half. And last night, you had threatened to tear out someone’s throat?”
Just hearing it made Jon quiver. No one told him about that. “I... I...”
“Those are some very serious claims against you, son.” Edmund peeked out at him from atop his lenses. “But what’s strange is the language you speak while doing such deeds.”
“S-sir, may I explain?”
Edmund nodded.
“You see, I don’t remember doing any of that. Well, I was told about the girl’s book, and I promised her I’d help pay it back. But... threatening someone... I wouldn’t dare do such a thing. I’m just a normal g-guy.” Jon sucked in a breath. He was just a normal guy, right? “A-and what about you? Th-that thing you threw on me earlier, what was that?”
Edmund softened his expression. “Ah, that. It’s nothing serious. Just easier than driving a car, isn’t it?”
“But—“
“Jonathan, I’d like to remind you that I can inform the police of these accusations if you fail to cooperate with me today.” Edmund slid his glasses off his nose, folded them, and stuffed them in his pocket.
When he glanced back at Jon, the flashbacks came to him like distant memories. The elegant black robes fluttering in the wind among the tall grasses. The last breaths of the troll brother as he died in the field. A dark, ominous sky as darkness drew near. And a silvery blade...
The hiss of a sword being drawn from its sheath was like fingernails on a chalk board. Light reflected off the sharp edge, blinding Jon. Edmund... no. Xu Shiuan grinned wickedly.
“Recognize me, Jonathan?” he asked, wickedly.
“B-but..” John gasped a breath. Wasn’t this man just a figure of his imagination?
Xu Shiuan stepped forward. “Yes, it’s quite strange, isn’t it? You know me from your wild dreams – the hunter who killed your brother with one strike of his magical arrow.”
“It’s... not possible!”
“Hmm,” Xu Shiuan ran his finger across his chin. “Not possible? What I’d like to know is,” He stared straight into Jonathan’s eyes. “Why did A-Zhu show you mercy?”
“Huh?”
“Bai Yazhu, you remember him, too. Yes? My fellow cultivator. No. My partner. He was there last night.”
Jonathan did remember him quite well. The man who freed him. Surely, Jon would have faced the same fate as his troll brother last night, but Bai Yazhu let him go without question. Jon had never asked for mercy. Hell, he really didn’t think any of this was real at all!
“You know, so tell me. Why did Bai Zhu not kill you?” Xu Shiuan stepped closer, menacingly eyeing Jon for the answer.
Jon pursed his lips. How could he possibly know?
The quiet in the small examination room made him even more tense. If he answered ‘I don’t know’, would this man kill him?
Xu Shiuan eased a loud, impatient breath. “Of course, you wouldn’t know. Let’s ask him then, shall we?” He faced Jonathan, close enough that his gasping breaths were hot on Jon’s cheeks.
“How do we—“
Xu Shiuan raised his hand, and Jonathan stepped back hoping to run away, but he found himself hitting the wall. Xu Shiuan thumped his forehead with the palm of his hand, and Jon closed his eyes and waited for the pain. He shivered at the heat of the touch.
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