New York City was having the first and worst downpour of the season. The day was April 1st, and not only was it pouring down rain but it was frigidly cold as well. In one of the many back alleys, among piles of trash and puddles, a young man lay still on the soaked pavement.
He had pale skin which stretched loosely over his thin frame, curly brown hair that hung down enough to cover his eyes, and haggard clothes that didn't fit. The boy barely moved, and to anyone that stumbled by he was as good as dead.
And in fact, he was!
Until he suddenly sucked in a deep breath of frigid air, his body rapidly waking from 'death' and stitching itself back together. An unseen wound in his heart, a tear in a muscle, was mended as his heart began to pump viscous liquid once again.
Callum lurched forward and turned so he was on all fours and promptly emptied his stomach of whatever had previously occupied that space. He wretched for nearly a minute before he suddenly lost strength, collapsing onto the ground without being able to even think about avoiding the gross puddle.
He lay there for an unknown amount of time as his brain greedily sucked in oxygen, running red hot as a new consciousness found a home within. Gradually gaining awareness, Callum frowned and shivered from the cold. He sucked in a deep breath and forced himself upright. He had no idea where he was, but he knew two things: He was cold, and he was hungry.
It took a few attempts, but soon enough he'd risen to his feet and began stumbling from the alley. Looking round, his eyes were drawn to a flyer posted on a wall. He walked closer for a better look, not batting an eye at what those around him might have thought of him at the moment, not that they did either.
This was New York City, home to all manner of freaks and mutants, if all you saw were dirty homeless looking people then you were having a fever dream.
'Hell's Kitchen Homeless Shelter, 545 West 49th Street. Free Food and bedding.'
—
HKHS: 2:49 PM
Karen Page hummed a soft tune to herself, picking up yet another book and moving it to its proper section. Fiction- her favourite. She kept her dirty blonde hair tied up in a messy bun, as she usually did when working in the shelter.
"Ah." She found yet another misplaced book just when the door chimed, telling her someone had come in. 'Damn, I just finished mopping up the mud too!'
Karen turned and went pale nearly instantly at the sight of the young man before her. He was an absolute mess! He was thin, dirty, and soaked to the bone. "Are you okay?"
'That's a stupid question.' The both of them thought, each with a different inner tone.
Callum shook his head. "Do you have any spare clothes at all?"
"Of course! Believe it or not, you're not the first one to come in with a tattered shirt. Follow me, I'll show you the showers and grab you some fresh clothes!"
Callum glanced around as he followed her, doing his best to walk on the carpet as to limit how much he dripped water on the clean floors. "This is nice for a shelter." He commented.
Karen nodded, sounding grateful. "A friend of mine is a very successful lawyer. Him and a few others fund this place and others so we can do our jobs and help those like you!"
She continued. "I'm also a lawyer, but I like to work here in my freetime."
Callum nodded. He could see how someone who studied to become a lawyer might enjoy helping others. It sounded to him like a doctor volunteering at a clinic in their free time.
Soon enough, they reached what looked like a locker room with a Men's sign outside. "Here we are. The showers are in the back to the right, and I'll leave your clothes on a bench inside."
Callum nodded as he stalked inside. "Thank you."
Wasting no time at all, Callum stripped himself of his tattered clothes, setting what items he found aside and jumping right into the shower, nearly moaning as the steamy water kissed his skin.
The young man scrubbed every inch of his skin, his mind running now that his immediate situation had been handled.
'...She looked like Karen Page.' He thought.
His mind still felt numb, making that thought come much calmer than it should have. 'Or at least she looks like the actor who played her. Let's not jump to conclusions just yet. There's absolutely nothing and no reason that I would be in another world.'
As he thought that, he looked down and flinched. There, on the wrists and forearms of either arm, was a sprawling tattoo. Each hand held what looked like a dagger, chain linking from the hilt, up his arm, across the chest, and down the other arm and linking with the other blade.
"The hell? What kind of sick prank is this? Drugging me, knocking me out, changing me into shitty clothes, and dumping me in the middle of nowhere, and on top of that giving me a tattoo!?"
Callum shut his eyes and sighed hard, throwing his hands up as a sudden weight met his palms. He opened his eyes and found himself stunned to see a dark black dagger resting in either palm, a similarly dark chain linking the two.
And when he thought about how ridiculous the thought was that a tattoo could turn into a real item, it melted and merged back into his skin, stopping the thought before he could even utter it. Callum tilted his head, a strange thought coming to him.
On a whim, he thought of the daggers appearing again, and appear they did. With a slight bit of force they bounced from beneath his skin and landed in his palms again, the weight of the chain making his hands sink.
He was about to play with them more when Karen's voice called to him. "Callum? Are you okay in there?"
Panicking a little, he willed the weapon to return to a tattoo and hurriedly finished washing. "Yeah, almost done! Just enjoying the hot water!"
"That's fine! Come find me in the main room when you're done!"
A few minutes later, Callum rubbed his hands over his much more comfortable clothes as he picked up his few things. One was a wallet with not even a dime inside, only a state ID and an old insurance card. Aside from a few odd nicknacks, he also had an old phone, but it had clearly been damaged from the rain.
Taking a moment to look over his ID, he found that his name was nearly the same– Callum Reign, and he was still freshly 18.
He frowned, his theory that he was in another world and not deluding himself growing every moment.
Callum found Karen in the main room where they'd come from, tending to the shelves tucked into the back of the room just how she had when he arrived. He watched her for a moment, more and more sure that she was exactly who he thought she was, and he couldn't help himself from asking.
"You mentioned earlier that you were a lawyer, do you work for Nelson and Murdock?"
Karen turned, seeing that he'd finished showering. "Yes, but not many people know about me, the boys usually taking all of the attention and all."
Callum smiled awkwardly, doing his best to hide the fact that his stomach was doing flips. "Well, I heard about a case of yours and looked into you. It's not everyday you hear about a lawyer doing pro bono work so often."
She couldn't suppress the flattered smile. "Well we only do that for those who can't pay, and luckily enough our reputation in winning cases has quite a few people who can pay asking for our help, which is how this place is funded!"
"Well, there's beds down that hallway there, and we have a set of computers through that door." She paused, unsure as to how to word her next thought. "If you have anyone to call, feel free to use the phone behind the desk. And don't worry about yours being broken, I'm sure Matt would be more than happy to get you a new one while you get on your feet."
Callum thought she might be offering too much, but he wasn't one to turn down a free phone. "Thank you for all this. Oh, and where's the kitchen?"
Karen's eyes widened. "Oh I'm so sorry, I didn't think about that! It's just down the hall, past the computer room. There's plenty of ingredients there, and if you don't know how to cook we have ham and salami for sandwiches too."
He nodded and thanked her one last time before going to fill his stomach. Now that he wasn't occupied with cleaning himself, his gut was practically ready to tear itself from his body and find food itself.
Callum patted his stomach as he opened the fridge, surprised to find it fully stocked with all kinds of foodstuffs. Ground beef, the odd sauce and condiment, a bag of green peppers, you name it. And there were two more fridges too!
Callum grinned. "Oh I'm abouta chef the fuck up!"