I felt a certain sense of doom, as realization slowly dawned on me.

Yet I wasn't able to fully keep my thoughts on track- the big hand that had me enveloped in its tight grip suddenly stirred, as if waking up in a daze.

The hand, was no longer a hand as the person that had been lying down next to me slowly rose to stretch.

As if realizing what situation he was in, he hastily checked around him, until his gaze finally landed on me.

Two big obsidian pupils stared at me, almost as if they had been alienating me.

A few blinks later, the man was scurrying off the bed, shouting something that sounded like a name.

"Clara! The baby's awake!"

He ran and shouted at the same time, he sounded out of breath, even though he had just gotten up. Once he get close to the door frame, I was finally able to size him up completely.

A rather tall man, with short, messy black hair and obsidian eyes. He wore clothes that looked worn out, clothes that you'd use if you didn't care about dirtying them. Was he seriously sleeping in those?

He barely made it past the door frame when I heard an audible thump in the other room, followed by a few loud painful moans.

"Move, Owen! You big oaf!"

A female voice protested against him in an urgent manner, but not fully berating him at the same time. Not long after, I saw a woman enter the room with a hurried step- matching her urgent voice.

She had long, silky chestnut brown hair which she wore in a single braid and she was a head shorter than the man- she wore a crude light brown skirt that looked motherly, no matter how worn out it was. Her eyes were a blue color, that reminded me of a clear blue sky.

"My baby!"

It didn't take long for her to ruin her image of herself in my eyes, as she jumped onto the.. bed? rather unceremoniously and proceeded to try and grab me.

Regardless of my suffering, I could only utter uncomprehensible cries which amounted to nothing.

"Gaaagaa! Gaa gaa!" (Put me down, woman!)

"My little baby boy can speak already? What a prodigy you are!"

She spun me around at a speed I thought to be impossible- whatever furniture there was in this room became but a blur while I was being swung around by the woman.

Unamusingly enough, dizziness quickly followed this infinite spin of death.

The damn woman only realized something was wrong after I unintentionally scrunched up my face, and she switched positions, craddling me in her arms, instead.

"Isn't he a bit too big for a newborn, Owen?"

I felt a small touch near my ears. 

"Well, his ears are pointy, maybe he's an elf?"

A what now? The room still spun frantically, despite the woman standing completely still. Why do I feel so tired?

"Now that you mention it.."

The two of them began to analyze me, while I struggled to keep my eyes open. Just what was happening with my body? 

What followed was a conversation I didn't quite follow, because darkness enveloped my sight just as quickly as their little talk began.

I'll.. think about this bizarre... situation.. when.. I'm awake...

***

Is anyone there?

When I opened my eyes, I didn't find myself back in my old bed, or even the.. new one, for that matter. I still don't believe that was real. What unfolded in front of my eyes was a rather bizarre and twisted image of a.. library? A library enveloped in thick fog.

I could see a shape- a shadow of some kind of grandiose library, even with this thick fog that obscured my vision.

I found myself standing in a narrow hallway, thick fog surrounding me like a prison, but never moving closer. 

Wait, standing? I was standing?

I quickly peered down to see what my body was, to know if I was back in my middle-aged body, but I saw no legs or torso.

I.. had no body, but I moved just like normal. Just what was going on?

Regardless of my many questions, the silence that filled the library's corridors persisted. The fog that swirled and slithered down the floor and across the bookshelves made for an answer; in a sense.

Once I tried moving, however you might expect a body would move if well.. there was no body, I stumbled upon one of those bookshelves that I could barely just make out when I first got here.

The first thing I noticed about the bookshelf was the fact that it had.. no books on it. It was just that; an empty bookshelf. 

The second thing I noticed about it was that it was.. floating? Or rather, slightly hovering off the ground, almost as if it had been tabboo to land. A floating bookshelf, in a maze of a library with thick fog, so far so good.

I began hovering down the hallway, while tracing a hand across the bookshelf. I went as far as I could before the path twisted and changed. I looked over the rest of the bookshelves as I went, noting that they were placed next to each other in a neat and organized manner.

The third, and weirdest thing I noticed about this library was that no matter how much I walked, the bookshelves that stood on either side of the hallway had no contents within them. Not even a speck of dust.

Then again, why would dust be on any of these bookshelves? This place isn't any more normal than my dreams at night. Granted, this could always be a dream.

Having a dream inside a dream isn't something that occurs commonly, but I would rather believe that than believe whatever this situation is to be real.

I continued hovering down the twisting hallway, blindly following whenever it suddenly twisted into a turn and when it split into a crossway. The fog followed my every move, as if it had eyes and a will of its own. It always faithfully stuck near me, but not once did it come closer than a meter.

Just how far does this hallway even go? How far could a constantly twisting and switching hallway even go on for? Was it taking me around in circles?

Without having anything to look at, I looked at the ground, studying the carpets. 

The carpets were neatly arranged and organized like the bookshelves, their tapestry the same dull image of a rectangle as the rest of the ones I had crossed. A red background, with the rectangle being a goldish yellow color. Each of them in pristine form, no signs of wear.

I continued to analyze my surroundings, trying to find a clue as to where I was; or why I was in this predicament in the first place.

Until something changed.

I began to feel a nearly incomprehensible pull; as I hovered down the hallway, the pull became stronger, and stronger still.

It was hard to keep a track of time, if this truly wasn't a dream. It felt like a minute had passed, when the pull became significantly stronger than it had been before.

I noticed the fog had been affected as well, its calm and slow movements now erratic and panicked, it looked almost as if light had been caught by a black hole, trying to escape but inevitably failing.

It almost looked like I was hovering into the eye of a storm. The fog swirled persistently to no avail.

At some point, I realized I was getting caught up in the pull as well. How did that even work? My questions went unanswered as the force of the pull moved me around as easily as it would a toy.

The pace at which I moved became quicker at an alarming rate, and the fog at this point moved like the winds of a passing tornado.

That was when I saw it.

The origin of the pull. A slithering mass of utter blackness seemed to be the catalyst causing this pull. From its alarming size and the pull it was emitting, it wouldn't be all that wrong to call this a black hole, except for the fact that instead of light being swallowed, it was fog.

The fog thrashed around, and from what I could see, the perfectly ordered bookshelves were no less than collateral, here.

The carpets, if there were any left- were torn apart and spread across the broken bookshelves, their image worn; aged. Almost as if time itself had been sucked out of it.

The scene its entirety felt as if it should have been something more; something more destructive, perhaps. But it truly wasn't. For some reason, objects near the blackness were frozen in their spots, unaffected by the writhing blackness.

The fog however, was greedily sucked into it.

I wouldn't have minded admiring this scenery just a bit more, before I was inevitably pulled into the mass of black myself.

The air became warmer as I edged closer to it; I felt as if I would be burnt alive before even being consumed by whatever that thing was.

It was truly weird. After that rollercoaster of bizarre happenings- I felt strangely detached. And now, at my end.. I felt nothing.

Had I always been so detached?

Regardless of what I was, the mass of blackness swallowed me, just as easily as it had done with the surrounding fog. My vision turned to black just as quickly, and for a second I saw writhing muscles, pulsing almost as if they had been snakes.

***

"Well.. the letter..."

"Said.. its our son..."

A swirling of voices assaulted my ears, as I quickly came to. Just what was that? The twisting hallways.. the bookshelves.. and what else was it?

What..

..What was what?

I blinked, wondering about what I was thinking. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been important enough if I forgot it.

Regardless; I should focus on the situation at hand.

Where am I?

"Shh! You'll wake him if you speak so loudly!"

I opened my eyes to a rather odd scene. The woman had placed me back on the bed, and was sitting beside me. I could feel her gentle hand moving through- well, not my hair, since I suppose I didn't have any right now.

The man- Owen if I recall correctly, was sitting on a wooden chair next to the bed, his hands clenched together, he looked serious.

When he looked at me, I could see his face visibly change from a cold look to a softer one, had they been fighting?

Whatever the matter was, I couldn't do anything to help them out, so instead I looked towards analyzing my situation.

I was not in my body, instead, I was in a.. newborn's body? Something along the lines of that. I was in a random corner of the world- if this was even my world at all. The clothes these two wore either told me they were beggars, apart of some weird religion, or well.. maybe not even from my world.

I carefully went over the room I found myself in. It was an almost empty room, with a bed, a window and a table next to it, and a chest located on the opposite side of the room, in a corner.

The bed I was laying on- I couldn't quite feel the material, since I was wrapped in some kind of blanket. I couldn't quite discern what it was made of, but if I were to guess, wool would be appropriate.

I tried moving around, but to no avail. However that woman had wrapped me, she wrapped me tightly.

"Clara, my heart, are you sure this is the right choice?"

Owen looked at Clara, he casted a hard and long look at her, his voice steady, but it hid an undertone of decisiveness.

She responded to his look with a sympathetic one, but she never showed signs of backing down.

"That letter seemed pretty serious, my dear. Besides, we've always wanted one."

The man responded to that statement with a sigh- it seemed that whatever they were talking about was pretty serious.

The problem was still as apparent as ever.

Where was I? What was this place?

The couple's voice in the background faded, as I heard a new sound come into the mix.

"Dada? Mama?"