The Whimsical Fate of A Heir

During the quiet hours of the night, a low hum emanated from the hospital's mechanical ventilation system, a constant counterpoint to the hushed whispers of the nurses. 

Inside one of the patient rooms, the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor was the only sound that broke the silence in the air as a young man lay still on a bed in the centre of it all. His face was pale and drawn, his body a patchwork of bruises and bandages. He looked awful like he had been through a war.

Wires and tubes snaked across his chest, disappearing under the sheets. An IV drip hung over him, slowly dripping a clear liquid into his arm. The air was thick with the smell of medicine and something faintly metallic, like blood.

Suddenly, the beeping of the heart monitor sped up. It was like a drumbeat getting faster and faster. A low groan escaped his lips as he slowly opened his heavy eyelids. "Hmmm…." 

"Ughhhh…" The young man mumbled, his voice raspy and dry. He blinked a few times, the fluorescent lights above him assaulting his sensitive eyes, forcing him to squint. His head throbbed like a drum solo, growing stronger with every sluggish blink.

His hand instinctively tried to reach up to rub his forehead when the sterile white ceiling of the room finally blurred into focus, but a jolt of pain stopped him short. Victor looked down, eyes widening. His right arm, from wrist to bicep, was encased in a bulky white bandage.

"What the..." Victor rasped, his voice hoarse and barely a whisper. He tried to sit up to have a better look at the bandage, only to realize the effort sent a fresh wave of nausea crashing over him.

"Damn it...ugh…" He groaned, suppressing the nausea as much as he possibly could with his left hand covering his mouth. As the young man tried to move, another groan escaped his lips as a sharp pain shot through his stomach. "Hmmm…?"

"What the heck?!" The young man yelled out, looking down at his torso, to see bandages covering his stomach after lifting the blanket. His confusion deepened even more as his gaze darted around the room. 

The hospital bed, covered in crisp white sheets, creaked slightly with his every movement. A tangle of tubes and wires snaked their way from his body to various machines, their blinking lights casting an eerie glow over the room. An IV drip, suspended from a metal pole, slowly dripped a clear liquid into his arm. 

"Am I…in a hospital?" The young man whispered, feeling confused as he looked around the room carefully, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. "How…how did I get here?"

"Did I get in an accident or someth-Ugh?" The young man muttered quietly, trying to sit up properly, but that effort immediately sent a jolt of pain through his body causing him to groan and sink back into the pillows. "Okay… okay…"

"Breathe, Victor, breathe," the young man, Victor then murmured, compelling himself to take deep breaths and steady his racing heart. He attempted to sit up again, this time more carefully by supporting himself on his elbows. The discomfort lingered, a dull ache in his abdomen and a sharp pain in his head, yet it was manageable. "That hurts like a bitch."

"Honestly, what the hell is going on?" Victor muttered, his brows furrowed in concentration. He tried to recall the last moments or events that happened leading up to his current predicament. "Okay, let's think this more carefully…What was I doing before I woke up here?"

However, as he attempted to do it, the young man felt like he was trying to grasp blurry smoke in his head—a vague image of several cars swerving, several loud screeches from unknown creatures... and then nothing.

Badump~

"Ughhh!!" Victor exclaimed, grabbing his forehead with his left hand when a painful headache suddenly came out of nowhere as he tried to dig deeper into his memory. 

"THAT FUCKING HURT!!!" He groaned silently, gashing his teeth. Fortunately, the pain didn't last long as it quickly disappeared a moment later.

As his mind calmed down from the pain, Victor was surprised to find a thick white bandage swathed his head when his fingers felt something rough. He quickly noticed the edges wrinkled and stained with a faint brownish-red. 

"Honestly…What the hell is g-wait a minute, huh?" Victor muttered feeling really annoyed before finally realising something was off. It was…his voice.

It sounded different and unfamiliar than he remembered as it seemed to be more like it's less worn, more smooth, and almost youthful. This caused Victor to frown deeply with a shiver running down his spine.

"What the hell?" Victor whispered, his voice cracking slightly. He tried it again, louder this time. "Hello? Is this… is this really my voice?"

He wasn't imagining, but his voice did sound younger and smoother—like a teenager, not the gruff, weathered voice of a man who had smoked his way through three packs a day for the last three decades. 

"No, no, no," he muttered, running a hand through his hair, wincing as a jolt of pain shot through his head. "This is… this can't be right." 

"I… I sound like a kid," Victor hissed at the bedsheet, his voice cracking with a hysteria he couldn't control. He then immediately tried to get off the bed, ignoring the dizziness that threatened to topple him. 

!!!!

The movement sent another jolt of pain through his bandaged abdomen, forcing him to gasp and sit back down. "Okay..okay…"

"I need to calm the fuck down like I usually do" Victor murmured, trying to quell himself and his uncontrollable hysteria. After a while, he tried again, whispering this time, but the unsettling youthfulness remained. "Maybe this situation is temporary." 

"Or there must be some rational explanation," Victor rasped, forcing the words out of his mouth while trying to remain optimistic in this situation with his eyes squeezed shut, and covering his face with his left hand. "No…"

"Don't be stupid. There will be no real comfort in thinking like that," Victor croaked, slightly shaking his head and his voice trembling. A sob soon escaped his lips, a pathetic mewling sound that mirrored the terror gripping him. Was this some bizarre punishment? A cruel joke?

With a sob that turned into a choked cough, he scrambled to sit up again, ignoring the stab of pain in his stomach. "Fuck, fuck, fuck…"

After a while, Victor's sobs began to subside, replaced by a trembling silence. His eyes, still squeezed shut, were filled with a mixture of fear and confusion. A new wave of nausea washed over him as he tried to steady his ragged breathing.

Suddenly, a sharp breath escaped his lips as he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. A dark rectangle, a television, sat across the room. With trembling hands and this heart pounding in his chest, he turned his head towards it.

A cold dread settled over him as he caught his reflection on the black screen. A younger face stared back at him, an unfamiliar face yet undeniably his own. The lines around his eyes were gone, replaced by smooth, youthful skin. 

"What the hell? First, it was these injuries, then my voice became way younger like a brat and now this?" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "What the fuck is going on???" 

A chill ran down his spine as he tried to comprehend the impossible and a couple of wild theories began to form in his mind. Could this be some sort of strange dream, a fever-induced hallucination? But the sharp pain in his side and the sterile hospital room argued against that.

"No, this can't be real," he muttered, his voice rising in panic. He scanned the room frantically, searching for any clue, any explanation. His eyes landed on the remote control, and he immediately reached for it with his fingers trembling. He turned on the TV, hoping to find some news, some explanation for this bizarre situation. 

As Victor fumbled with the remote, he channel-surfed frantically, his eyes darting across the screen. None of the news channels, reality shows, soap operas made sense to him. The world seemed different, somehow. The faces, the voices, the language—it was all off. He couldn't quite place the difference, but something was undeniably wrong.

After searching for information for a while, he stared blankly at the screen, the remote forgotten in his hand. A wave of nausea washed over him again, and he pressed his hand to his forehead. He felt dizzy and disoriented.

"This can't be happening," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "This isn't real."

He discovered a unique phenomenon that existed in this world known as "Gates."

These mysterious portals called gates suddenly appeared across the globe, serving as gateways to otherworldly dimensions filled with monstrous creatures. These creatures, diverse in shape and size, possessed extraordinary abilities and posed a significant threat to humanity.

The gates' unpredictable appearance made them a constant danger. They could open anywhere, from bustling city centres to remote wilderness areas, unleashing chaos and destruction. As the monstrous creatures poured forth, they attacked and consumed everything in their path.

"It's like something out of a cheap sci-fi novel," he muttered to himself, fear and disbelief mixing in his voice. "A world where monsters are real. And somehow I found myself stuck in it."

"Could this be reincarnation?" Victor wondered, recalling the novels he'd read for fun. The idea had always seemed like a creative plot device, not a real possibility. 

"If this is reincarnation, whose life am I living? Was I a good person? Do I have a family waiting for me somewhere?"

These questions swirled in his mind, causing him unease. But he shook his head, deciding to push the thoughts aside and sighed, "Let's not think about it for now."

"But still, it is crazy to think that beyond that normal beautiful sky, danger can happen anywhere, everywhere," he uttered, glancing out the window at the night sky, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and resignation. "That is the reality of this world."

He then picked up the remote that fell from his hand, and with his fingers trembling, Victor flipped through the channels, hoping to find something to distract him. 

"Honestly, how could I have ended up in a world like this?" " Victor muttered, skipping past several channels but at some point, he couldn't help but sigh. "What a shitty luck."

Each channel offered a different kind of entertainment: a reality show, a sports game, a news broadcast. None of them seemed to grab his attention or spark his curiosity. After a few minutes of aimless channel surfing, Victor stumbled upon a late-night talk show in full swing.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!" the host, Olivia, announced cheerfully, her smile infectious. "Today, we're going to be discussing the devastating gate disaster that occurred last week."

"And joining us today is a special guest," Olivia announced, her voice filled with excitement. "He's one of the renowned hunters, who survived after braving the most dangerous yet extraordinary mission and confronting leagues of the most terrifying creatures."

"Please welcome the captain of the third hunter division from The White Tiger guild! Captain Marcus Turner!!!" Olivia's voice resonated through the studio, and the audience's applause filled the room. The camera panned to the entrance, revealing Captain Turner entering the stage, dressed in tactical gear with a hardened expression. He nodded appreciatively at the audience before taking his seat opposite Olivia.

"Captain Turner, welcome to the show!" Olivia greeted, shaking his hand. "Now, tell us about this high-grade gate you and your team just faced and cleared after a week alongside other guilds. It's been making quite headlines."

Marcus leaned back in his chair, his gaze steely and focused. "Thank you for having me. The mission was very intense. We were dealing with a level of threat we hadn't encountered before. Honestly, that disaster that we faced was unlike anything we've seen."

Olivia leaned forward, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "Can you walk us through the operation? What challenges did you and your team face?"

To Be Continued