#WritcoStoryChallenge
The painting was yellowed with rounded edges. It was a masterpiece and it was lying in my hand. Wait, have I stolen it? I don't remember. I set down the painting in the alley I found myself in. 'How did I get here?' I thought to myself. I pinched my eyes shut tight trying to think of the last thing I could remember, it had felt like I lost entire days without a clue what happened.
I pressed my fingers to my temples trying so hard to remember what had happened in that lost time. I opened my eyes back up to find my hands covered in blood and I had to stifle a scream. 'Was this blood already on my hands and I didn't notice or is this too something new?' I had no idea what was happening to me.
"Put your hands on your head and get on your knees, scumbag!" a stern man's voice screamed as I was hit with a spotlight.
I turned around with my hand up to find myself facing a police officer with the sites of his glock locked in on me. Just as I was about to speak when it happened again, the world started to spin and everything went black. I woke up in a strange musty old room with that same glock now in my hand and blood all up my arms and spattered across my face. My heart jumped and I tossed the gun scooting back into a corner. 'What the hell is going on with me?' I thought as I curled my knees up to my chest.
"You are probably wondering what is happening to you aren't you, Michel." a man's voice sounded from the shadows.
"Who's that, who's out there?" I called frightened into the...