Dizziness was what came to my senses first, before my consciousness sprung awake. My eyes opening sluggishly, taking in the new sight that greeted me. A ceiling, one with few cracks here and there and a leak not far from the dead lightbulb. I can see a drop of water squeezing through and fell near my face. I should tell mom about this.

  And that's where I realized. Our household had never seen cracks or worse, leaks. If there were, then dad would've fixed it without anyone seeing it beforehand. Clearly, something is wrong.

  I discovered that yes, something is indeed wrong, because my eyes takes hold of a small bedroom with me sitting on a single bed inside it and its walls colored dark blue, gloomed by the shining moon slipping through the cracks of a double window made of oak opposite me. It has seen better days. And it has definitely seen the progress from this room's previous state to present time. I mean, goodness, what the hell is this smell?

  I looked around the room, noting more details and trailing where the source of this smell is, moving closer to its source. Only to discover that the smell came somewhere below me, underneath the bed. Someone's been living in here, I can see that. And they're living an unhealthy life, not even a clean one. Cups of instant noodles littered the desk below the window and countless cans of sodas alongside empty plastic bags of chips were all around the room, as if it's a dumpster. No, I'm not joking. On the desk, a sleek but dirty black laptop was placed above it, with a mice, books - opened and not-, and stationery. A cabinet is also present besides the bed I sat on, one good enough for a person's wardrobe.

  Am I being kidnapped? Where the hell am I?

  Questions arose in my mind. No clear answers can satiate them, however. My thoughts racing as I ponder upon what had just happened. I was flashed, yes, and concussed, also yes, by a goddamn voicemail of a damn game character I loved and that's it. And I know for sure you can't snap people out of consciousness with only a damn voicemail and an image of a flashbang. Yet, that happens to me before waking up in this dirty room. We're not far enough in terms of technology to be doing stuff the sci-fi hobos made in books. But apparently, fate just said 'screw you' and made an impossibility possible. What the ef?

  The longer I think, the more my nostril gets invaded by the smell of a 50 days old caesar salad, or maybe more to a long-expired rice left somewhere humid. Whatever it is, it's a bad smell coming from underneath the bed, and I'm taking it out.

  I tried getting a pen through, just to check if down there is another corporate-product litters or something more horrible.

  A gentle jiggly feedback of my nudge tells me that something existed down there, possibly a jelly left expired. My stomach churns a little at that, bringing a content disgust that haunts me to this day. Eugh. I brought my head down and-

  *Shwooooo...*

  "GOOD GOD!"

  A surge of stinky air blasted upon my face, quickly retracting my head upwards.

  Until I acknowledge what that thing is, I am not going to clean that. Forget nearing it, I'm gonna shine a light until I'm sure it's not a rotting jackfruit. I hate that fruit.

  I stood from the bed and hastily moved out, finding myself in an enlightened living room of my might-be kidnapper. If I'm being kidnapped, that is. And calling it a living room might be a bit too much. It's more like a six by six room filled with a large and very thin LED TV standing above a floating shelf on one end of the room and a couch in its front, with the other end being a kitchen. And beyond that is a small L pathway leading to what I assume to be the front door of this apartment. The bathroom should be that lone door then. Good. I know where to piss then if I'm unable to escape. Not a pessimistic thought, just a simple if. And I'd say this is a nice looking room, if not for dirty plates and trashes in almost every spot available. If not the trashes, then stain of unknown substances were found cluttering surfaces of the floor and the wall. If the bedroom is a dumpster, then this is akin to an inoperable and full trash compactor. I'm surprised my captor isn't dead by illness yet with how stupidly hazard this room feel. I'd probably be crouching down on the floor the moment I stepped into this, nauseated, if not for the chores dad and mom had me worked often back home. Thanks dad, mom, very cool.

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  There's a coat rack by the bathroom door, I see two coats hanging there. One a black puffy-like coat, another a green leather coat. Looks like those belongs to my captor. Approaching it, I soon noticed that these two coats were made with not-so-good materials. I run a check on the puffy coat's pockets and discovered some stuff inside it. A grocery bill, an ID card, a wallet, and some pennies with unknown carvings. I was surprised. Being surprised by some pennies was not what I thought in my lifetime ever, but the carvings are something alien to me. I've learned about many nations' currencies and their coins or pennies, and I've yet to see one in a carving of a flower on one side and single-digit number on another.

  Where in the world am I? Africa? In what world does a goddamn flower could symbolize Africa?

  Gonna put that aside, the ID is more interesting. On it, are personal informations of my possible captor and a picture of their face. Pale, a bit skinny, and has straight jet black hair in a style messier than my dog's kennel. This guy's definitely never comb for a long time. His name is Fern Volkswitz. German-ish. Lives in... Loder? Strange name, still german-ish. Born in 2241. Looks like a mid-to-late stage college student, to be honest.

  Pocketing the stuff, I do, and swiftly check the other coat, finding a key inside one of its pockets. Hope this is the key for the front door.

  For a moment, I froze, mulling about what to do next. I figured that I should stay on guard and be prepared for anything unexpected. For that, I need a weapon. Walking to the kitchen, I saw a countertop, sideboards, utensils inside some cabinets, and a sink. From one of the cabinets, I took a knife. Quite sharp and clean, considering the state of the apartment. I guess this man rarely eats homemade food. I grab a mug and fill it with tap water before flushing out my thirst. There's also a refrigerator, one where I find some eggs, vegetables, fruits, and a slice of brownies.

  Of course I ate it, why wouldn't I? I'd be gone before he can be angry at me. But eh, maybe I wouldn't do so if he weren't a kidnapper of mine. I can see him and me being a friend with each other. I mean, I'm interested in his home gadgets. Like, where did he get a smart sink where just nearing my hand would activate it? And how could there even be a refrigerator with see-through door displaying everything inside it as if it has no door built with it? Damn, this guy's rich. If he's rich, then the refrigerator with that kind of door makes sense to be here. That means other people would've own the same, at least the riches. And that means revolutionized refrigerator industry, meaning I'd known about this from videos or online articles. But why hadn't I known about this? Weird.

  Then, as I was about to leave the kitchen, I saw a calendar pinned to the wall besides the refrigerator.

  And that's where it hits me.

  2262? Hm? Where am I, the future?

  My head's voice rhytmically joking.

  Wait...

  Hurriedly, I went about the pathway, arriving at the front door. For a second, my hand wobbles on the knob, trying to budge open the door. Locked. I pull out the key and insert it to the door. A satisfying clack answered my countless silenced plea and opened the door.

  I was not expecting this.

  A street not bustling with lots of activities and vehicles. Vehicles, made of familiar metal, shaped familiarly, and operated the same. A car. Good. A carriage, driven by two good horses led by a man on the front of the carriage, somehow in the same speed as the car despite the car speeding at around 21 miles per hour. Not good. And more than several buildings were light up with aesthetically neon lights. Oh, crap. Don't tell me...

  As assumption after assumption jumps up in his mind, looking for theoretically impossible answers, He glance upwards. And there stood tall, a skyscraper taller than Dubai's Khalifa, attached with a big trademark 'Der Mann. Inc' lightened up, facing his direction, as if answering all and every single one of his unfathomable assumptions that he feared of being right.

  The assumption of being in an entirely new world,

  The assumption of being taken away from home,

  And the assumption of not being kidnapped by an illegal immigrant despised by the tax people.

  He dropped to his knees, screaming internally.

  When fate despised him and made his life hard by making him a professional programmer, he'd never seen such as obstacles, merely thinking that he shouldn't worry a thing and just go on with his life, following the waves. Now, however, he'd never felt a much more heartfelt 'fuck you in particular' done by fate surpassing this one.