What The Vearth?

So, I woke up to a pair of shiny white fangs. Nothing wrong there, right? Wait, what did I just see? Fangs? Ugghh… I blink my poor eyes furiously in an attempt to survey my surroundings but all that my mind can register is total alienness. Pretty sure, I didn’t last check into a luxurious five-star hotel suite. Or at least, that was all that my line of sight with blurred edges and black spots offered me. Now, for my brain’s next most urgent question, WHERE AM I??? True, that is such a cliché question to shoot out. Can’t believe I’m thinking along this line but honestly, my mind feels like it’s wading through a pool of jello and I truly have not seen this place ever. So, where on earth am I now? My poor eyes felt heavy and my mind was super sluggish. And I allowed my strained eyes to flutter to a close. I must have hit my head real hard then. No surprise there. I did, after all, take up that stupid bet out of mere bravado. I idiotically dived into the raging sea from the tall and proud cliff, that persistently kept the pushy sea waters at bay. So, shouldn’t I have scanned my one-way ticket to hell or by some heavy-duty stroke of luck, the heaven, by now? Instead, here I am hallucinating about some pearly white fangs. Of all the things, I imagine fangs, huh? That settles it. I must still be alive then. Time to run an inventory check on whatever is left of my anatomy. With that thought, I slowly started reaching for my head, when I felt a sturdy hand stop my mission and I opened my eyes yet again, with much effort, mind you. As my line of sight gained increased high-definition quality by the minute, I realized to my utter horror, that I haven’t been imagining those pointed pearly whites. In fact, now that I can focus better, let me add that those pearly whites are rather sharp, I mean extra sharp pointed fangs. I knew it. I always did lack a sense of imagination and creativity, which numerous people in my life have gone out of their way to point out. The said fangs protruded out of the mouth of the stranger, whose sturdy hand held mine. It was a young dude, hitting his mid-twenties, possibly. The same fang anomaly applied to another young chap who lingered nearby. Before I could further process the scenario at hand, the dude spoke up, “Hey, there. Calm down. You did a good job of banging your head hard, buddy. The doc said you shouldn’t meddle with the bandages just yet. Said he patched you up really good. He’s the best at what he does, around here. So, no worries. You’re in safe hands.” Those words were the last that I expected from the stranger, no, my saviour with sharp pointed fangs. True to his words, I could verily feel the rolls of cotton bandage holding my messed-up head together. But maybe the doctor failed in his diagnosis. I can’t possibly be seeing straight now. Guess all those hours of binge-watching uncountable supernatural, fantasy, and sci-fi-centric movies over my short life span was finally taking a toll on my already flawed mental health. No way would a dude with fangs be helping me recover. It would make way more sense for him to make a meal out of me instead, I argued internally. Unable to help myself, I chuckled at my own sick monologues. But I figured it would be in my best interest to continue maintaining my unspoken monologue as it is for now, at least. Wouldn’t want to present myself as an unhinged maniac at first sight to my saviour. Swallowing my thoughts, I uttered, “Thanks, man. I appreciate it but I think I need to see the physician again. I think I might just be seeing things. Can you give him a call or something? On second thought, I should just get home and get my folks to call my family doc over. Then again, where are we at again?” “Oh, we’re at my palatial home on First Street and I think it’s better if I just send for the doc from here. He’s just outside the doors. You woke up shortly after he worked on you. As for getting you home, I can arrange for your transportation whenever you’re ready for the ride, buddy”, assured my saviour, before asking the other dude, behind him, to fetch the doctor. At the mention of the word palatial, I decided to focus on my surroundings and I noticed that I was on a rather comfortable king-sized bed, covered with a luxurious quilt. The room we were in seemed broad enough to be a floor instead. Ample antique and elegant furniture stood tall at almost every nook and corner of the so-called “room” and the ceiling was painted with multiple vibrant colours detailing intricate designs. Talk about some serious attention to detail. The architecture seemed somewhat close to those of the Mughals, which itself is an amalgamation of Turkish, Persian, and Indian architecture. So, I must say the place looked rather remarkable. A couple of exquisite crystal chandeliers hung every few feet, filling the entire place with a touch of alluring soft light. The walls were a steady mixture of gold and cream. The double-toned cream curtains with random designs that stood draping the windows seemed pretty heavy-duty and posh too. Despite the supermassive size of the place and all the fittings, the place seemed very well maintained. Couldn’t spot a speck of dust anywhere. My goodness. How did they even manage that? Hmmm. I wonder how long it would take for any number of people to keep this place going the way it did. It usually took me a few hours to clean up just my room back at home and it wasn’t anywhere close to the size of this place. Just who is this guy anyway?