Nameless

Summary: Names have power. They give us freedom over ourselves and control over others. But what happens when you can't remember your own name? Who has control then? Are you still free? Is someone else in charge? I'd tell you the answer, if I could remember it.

Disclaimer: This is a fan-fiction story of the book and TV series: Dresden Files by Jim Butcher, and is in no way affiliated with the actual show or series. All characters and other materials related to the show/series that have been used are not intended to infringe on any Copyrights. Elemental-Zer0 takes sole responsibility for any mistakes or offence that may be taken but truly not meant. However, any characters that are not related to any copyrights are copyrighted to Elemental-Zer0 as is any variations to the plot set out in the show/series.

A/N: So, I've only just started the 7th Book (Dead Beat) but I suppose this could be a standalone story. This is loosely inspired by the TV episode Soul Beneficiary and I think that speaks for itself as to what this story might be about… Please let me know what you think.

Prologue

The first thing I became aware of was a bright light. Not the "You-are-entering-death" kind of light, but rather a "sunshine-through-the-curtains" kind of light that lit up the backs of my eyelids. I slowly allowed my eyes to adjust while I waited for my consciousness to return to me. It was soft and warm, and I was sorely tempted to fall back to sleep again but it occurred to me then that I couldn't remember falling asleep. This confused me. I tried to recall what I was doing before I found myself waking up.

I couldn't.

I couldn't remember what I'd been doing before this moment of waking. My eyes shot open and the light that my eyes had begun to grow accustomed to from behind my eye lids, stung my eyes and called forth tears of protection against my will. I sat up quickly and wiped at my eyes before glancing around the place I'd woken up in.

Nothing looked familiar. Not the heavy satin bedsheets. Not the high-strung chandelier. Not the coffee coloured shag pile rug in the middle of the large opulently decorated bedroom. Not even the view from the ornate gothic styled windows.

None of it held any ounce of familiarity to me.

I stood from the bed in alarm and then promptly had to sit down on the edge of the bed before the world stumbled and fell over me. It took me a moment to realise that it was, in fact, my own body that had been in danger of falling over itself and that just made me more concerned. What happened to me? Where was I? Why was I so dizzy and out of it?

I felt drained, exhausted, and achy in ways that I couldn't remember ever feeling. I hung my head low and rested them in my hands, trying to control my breathing. I tried to remember the last thing I'd been doing before all this confusion hit me. There had to be a reason I was in this room. Why I had been asleep.

Had I been kidnapped? I gave the idea some thought; if I had been kidnapped, then wouldn't I be tied up in some old basement? Wasn't that how kidnappings go? So, not a kidnapping. But for some reason my brain didn't immediately reject the idea of being kidnapped as ridiculous, and that gave me the notion that I'd been kidnapped before and was familiar with the concept even if this current situation wasn't a kidnapping. But that just concerned me even more. I couldn't remember ever having been kidnapped before now. If I was so familiar with it, why couldn't I remember why? Or how? This had me wondering what kind of a man I was if I was so familiar with such an atrocious act. And that thought niggled at me as I tried to turn it over in my mind. What kind of person was I, if this was considered normal? What kind of person was I, if… wait. "What kind of person was I?" Why would I be asking myself that question, shouldn't I know?

I quickly tried to recall anything that could tell me about myself. Things I should know reflexively. Like my address… no idea. What type of car I drove?... no clue. What did I do for a living?... Again, nothing.

My breath hitched, and my heart started to beat faster. Did I have family? I didn't know. Did I have any friends? I didn't know. Work colleagues? Kids? Pets?

I couldn't remember. I couldn't remember any of them…

Just then, a knock on the door had his full attention and the door cautiously opened to reveal a slender, well-built man with striking handsome features that seemed as though they'd been chiselled into place. The man wore what looked to be an expensive suit and seemed to hold himself with a confident ease.

"I see you're awake." The stranger spoke, the disinterest in his voice felt unnerving and had me feeling a little edgy toward the man. I was instinctively on my guard with him which told me only that I had dealt with this man before and that I did not trust him. Even if I couldn't remember details, it seemed like my body remembered and that was something I felt I could trust. I stared at the man who stared coolly back at me, as though he were expecting a remark or response.

The man frowned a little in what could pass as concern, but I wasn't ready to trust my gut feeling on that one, even if it did feel right. "Are you ok?" He asked, his voice struggling to emanate the concern he was apparently trying to hide. I didn't know if I could trust the man, everything about him kept screaming "bad man" and "villain". My heart sped up in fear and I took an involuntary step backwards. If I remembered correctly, the big gothic windows were behind me. But I had no idea what floor level I was on. Hells Bells…

Wait. That saying. Hells Bells. That felt very familiar.

"Dresden?" The man spoke again; his tone was definitely concerned now. I looked up at him, frowning at him in confusion. Why was he asking if I was "dressed then" in a concerned tone of voice? And what was with the strange accent he put on the words? It sounded like he said it as though they were one word.

I'd finally had enough confusion for the moment. If I didn't ask, I was never going to get any answers. For better or worse, I stared at the man and with a jumpy start, asked the guy; "Who… Who are you?"

End-Note: Just a prologue. I can't write in a first-person point of view easily, so I'll be switching to omnipotent perspective from Chapter one onwards. Sorry if that throws anyone off.