THIS CAN'T BE REAL

"Ugh...why does my head hurt so badly..."

A man who was slowly opening his eyes muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion and discomfort. 

"Maybe I shouldn't have drunk so much yesterday."

He gingerly pulled himself into an upright position, only to be immediately assaulted by a harsh, blinding light.

It wasn't the sun; rather, it was the bright full moon casting an almost ethereal glow across the room.

Squinting, he glanced around, confusion etching deeper lines into his face.

"Since when do I sleep in white sheets?" 

His question hung in the air, unanswered, as he tugged at the pristine sheets, their unfamiliar texture puzzling him.

As his eyes traveled up, he noticed his arms, which appeared more muscular than he remembered.

"At this point, I'm seeing things."

Desperation for relief took over as he reached for a nearby glass of water, gulping it down in one swift motion.

His throat was parched, each swallow a painful reminder of his previous night's excess.

He hoped the cool liquid would alleviate both his thirst and the pounding in his head.

"Shit, my throat is really parched...just how many bottles did my body take in," he mused, his mind still foggy from the alcohol.

"That aside, it looks like I fell asleep in someone else's house..."

His eyes roved the room, now fully taking in the opulent surroundings illuminated by the moonlight. Rich tapestries, elegant furniture, and a general air of luxury greeted him.

"A rich one at that."

Taking in the lovely sight that he knew wouldn't last, he reluctantly got out of bed and began walking toward the large vertical door, which seemed absurdly oversized for a bedroom.

"Either I've gone nuts...or this is my first experience with lucid dreams," he muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief as his hand reached for the golden doorknob.

'Golden doorknob,' he thought, marveling at the extravagance.

"Just how wealthy is the guy who lives here?" he mused aloud, twisting the doorknob with a mixture of curiosity and bewilderment.

As he stepped into the hallway, his eyes widened at the sight of the royal and rich decorations that adorned the walls.

Tapestries woven with gold thread, intricate paintings in gilded frames, and chandeliers dripping with crystals lit up the corridor in a warm, opulent glow.

His body still felt sluggish, almost as if it were unfamiliar to him, and he stumbled slightly, struggling to walk properly.

"Why can't I move right? It's like this body is new to me," he thought, carefully maneuvering through the hallway, conscious of not breaking anything.

Everything looked incredibly expensive.

But despite his caution, he jinxed himself, accidentally bumping into a delicate vase. It toppled over and shattered, the sound echoing ominously through the lit-up hallway.

"Shit, I'm done for," he whispered, panic rising in his chest.

Suddenly, three busty and beautifully dressed maids appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

They bowed deeply and greeted him with a chorus of, "Young Master."

"Don't worry we'll take care of it..."

Confused, he watched as the maids began to pick up the broken pieces of the vase. His eyes couldn't help but drift to their backsides as they bent down, the formality of their address only adding to his bewilderment.

"Why are they calling me 'Young Master'? And why do they look so submissive?" he wondered, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

Gathering himself, he continued walking down the hall, the rich decorations blurring as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

As he turned a corner, he suddenly faced a large mirror hanging on the wall.

"What the fuck..." he exclaimed, stopping dead in his tracks.

The reflection staring back at him was both familiar and completely foreign.

The body was muscular and shirtless, displaying chiseled abs and powerful limbs.

He wore only baggy pants, and his hair was a striking red, cascading wildly over his shoulders. But what shocked him most were the two maroon horns curving backward from atop his head.

"Is this really me?" he whispered, reaching up to touch the horns, feeling their solid, otherworldly texture.

His reflection mirrored his movements, confirming the surreal reality.

He was looking at himself, but in a body he had never known, one that seemed both powerful and alien.

"Okay, this has gone far..."

His voice trembled with a mix of confusion and growing frustration. He swallowed hard, his throat dry and tight.

"Enough now, you've got your laugh..." he said, his tone rising with desperation and anger.

"Whoever is doing this...you can come out now, you little shit," he shouted bitterly, his voice echoing down the ornate hallway. Nervousness edged his words, betraying his uncertainty.

But no one answered. The only response was the sound of the maids' footsteps fading into the distance, leaving him alone with his bewilderment.

"Wait...this can't be real..." 

His eyes remained fixed on the reflection in the mirror, his breath coming in shallow, rapid bursts.

His mind raced, searching for any logical explanation, but finding none.

"Right?" he whispered, the word barely audible.

A drop of sweat rolled down his cheek, its cold trail a stark contrast to the heat of his rising panic.

He felt a growing dissonance between his mind and the unfamiliar body he now inhabited.

His heart pounded, each beat echoing the confusion and fear swirling within him.

///NEXT CHAPTER: THE WORLD THAT I KNOW ABOUT

A/N:MASS RELEASE TOMORROW!!!