"Thank you. Would you mind stepping inside for just a moment? I would like to ask you a couple of questions."
She seemed a bit afraid at first, but at last gave in. "Sure, what do you want to know?"
"Where am I? What is this place?"
"This is the Klövendal hotel."
She could tell I was puzzled still, so she continued.
"In Germany. Just how much have you had to drink?" She chuckled.
"Germany? Never heard of it. Listen, do you have any idea how I got here?"
"You came here three days ago with two other men. Actually, they carried you all the way to your room as you were unconscious. They paid for the room for two months up front and then just left. And as for you; you didn't come out of this room until today. I figured you were drunk or something. But hey, they paid in cash, and I'm not paid enough to care past that."
"Huh," I couldnt wrap my head around what I had just heard. "And how did these two other men look?" I asked her as I was putting on the clothes she had given me. They were everything but comfortable; completely opposite to what I was used to.
"No idea, really. They were both wearing hoodies. Very mysterious. But as I said, I'm not paid enough to care. Anyways, I'm Helena."
She extended her arm toward me as if she wanted me to grab ahold of it. So I did.
"I'm -..." Right as I was about to say my real name, I realised it may not be the best idea to. I was surrounded by humans and I looked like a human too. I needed a human name, but I didn't know any. I only knew the slave names we gave to humans back home, but calling myself Maggot or Pig didn't quite sound right. As I was thinking hard, trying to come up with a name, I realised it could make for a perfect cover-up story. I wouldn't have to tell her anything and at the same time, I could get all the information I needed out of her. I tried to muster the most surprised face I could.
"I can't remember. I can't remember my name. Nor how I got here, really."
"That's strange. What's the last thing you do remember?"
That was it. The make or break of my fictional story. I didn't have any idea of how humans lived in Germany and I couldn't tell her anything we did back home that she wasn't used to without raising suspicion. I searched through my memory to find something sufficiently neutral.
"As silly as it sounds, my mother cooking in the kitchen."
"Oh, what was she cooking?"
"I can't remember. I remember it smelling delicious, but I can't seem remember the smell."
"Oh. I'm sure you'll remember everything eventually. You seem like a nice guy, how about we head downstairs and get you some breakfast?"
"Sure, sounds good to me."
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- #19 - A struggling door-to-door salesman takes things one step too far
- #20 - A love story about a war veteran
- #21 - The red star
- #22 - A terminally ill child wishes to meet a villain
- #23 - School trip