"The shadow is moving," she said. Gwynn's eyes darted from side to side.
His mouth went dry, his voice a hoarse whisper. "I don't see anything."
"Behind you."
Gwynn tried to turn his head, but Sophia held him in place.
"Doesn't like me. Angry with me. Traitor." Sophia hissed.
She released him and sat back.
The Sophia in front of Gwynn was feral, her words coming in growling spurts. But the room held another voice. A voice belonging to the Sophia he knew. Beyond the madness in front of him, there stood a phantom image of Sophia. The phantom had the long shining blond curls, the sparkling blue eyes, and the smile which led Gwynn to Hell.
"I'm so sorry, Gwynn," the phantom Sophia said. "To have to put you through this."
This vision of the Sophia he'd lost broke him. Tears burned his eyes. "I'm the one who's sorry. If I'd stopped you. If I'd been stronger..." He covered his eyes, no longer able to bear seeing her.
Arms wrapped around him. Not the fierce grip she had on his face, gentle and comforting instead.
The mad Sophia, solid and very real whispered. "Phantoms. Other worlds bleeding through. Wounds you need to heal."
"I don't understand," Gwynn said.
"The beast long banished stirs. Blood taken through betrayal will release it. Only blood given can send it back."
"Sophia, I don't understand."
The phantom remained, her eyes full of sorrow and pity.
The near-insane Sophia still held him in an embrace. When she spoke, the warmth of her breath tickled his ear. "Dragons for good, dragons for evil. Messenger, prophets, harbingers. Fall, fall, fall. The shadow rises. Don't let it drown you."
Sophia let him go. The phantom Sophia disappeared. Gwynn tried to process what she said. None of it made sense. Then why did it feel so important? She sat away from him, rocking back and forth. Sophia's eyes— which held such power and focus— were now empty, focusing on some distant point which only she could discern the importance.
Gwynn stumbled to his feet and knocked on the door. Sophia's mother had hope in her eyes when the door opened, but her face fell when she saw Sophia.
"Did she speak to you?"
Gwynn's head buzzed. The world swayed beneath his feet. "Yes." His voice sounded thin. "It didn't make any sense to me, though. I'm sorry."
Mrs. Murray managed a weak smile. "It's fine, Gwynn. We hoped, well, maybe..."
"I'll let you be with her now, Mrs. Murray. Thank you for letting me see her."
The orderly escorted Gwynn down the hall and let him out the secure doors. Gwynn's head seemed to be hurting more, and his right arm throbbed so bad his fingers were numb. Shadows danced in the corner of his eye— something following him, something wanting him. He increased his pace, the hospital hallways becoming a blur of formless white. Gwynn trusted the deeper recesses of his mind to guide him out.
"Gwynn Dormath," someone called, sounding like it echoed from an impossible distance.
Gwynn stopped.
Someone jogged down the hall toward him.
The man came up to him, his breath huffing. "Gwynn, I'm glad I caught you. I thought for sure you'd still be in the hospital."
Who was this person? He seemed somewhat familiar.
The stranger must have recognized Gwynn's confusion. "It's me, Gwynn, Pridament. We met when you first came out of your coma. I've been trying to see you, to finish our conversation, but there's always been someone there."
"Oh. Sorry. So much has been going on. And I had no way of getting hold of you."
The man laughed. "I'm surprised to find you up and walking around so soon. The injuries your chart listed were extensive."
"Apparently I'm a medical mystery."
Pridament studied Gwynn.
"Are you just being released?"
"No, I've been out for a few days." The reason for Gwynn's visit, Sophia's terrible condition, hit him hard. He said in a cracked whisper, "I was here visiting a friend."
"Sophia Murray?"
Gwynn nodded.
"I heard about it." Pridament's eyes filled with sympathy. "I'm sorry. You look shaken. Did she say something to you?"
Sophia's frantic words played through Gwynn's mind. No matter how he turned them around, they made no sense.
"It was just gibberish."
"Tell me something Gwynn," Pridament's eyes and voice were intense, "have there been some, um, odd things going on with you the past couple of days? You seem a bit disoriented."
"It's been a bit much. I think I need some more rest."
Pridament didn't seem convinced. "Do me a favor, take my card. I'd like the chance to finish our talk. Sooner than later, okay?"
Gwynn took the card and slipped it into his pocket. "Sure. Right. I'll call soon. Seeya."
Gwynn plunged through the hospital doors into the biting November air. The wind stabbed his exposed flesh leaving it feeling raw. On an average day that would have been annoying. Today he imagined the cold eating away the darkness clinging to his skin.
Forget a cab. Gwynn didn't need the risk of someone being chatty. He opted for the quiet anonymity of the bus.
The bus arrived with a few passengers congregating near the front. Gwynn went for the solitude of the back seat. The swaying rhythm of the bus moving through traffic soothed his battered soul. He closed his eyes, drifting in the between places of waking and sleep.
A growl.
At first, Gwynn dismissed it as traffic noise. The next time it came, it sounded nearer, urgent. Gwynn snapped his eyes open. The passengers at the front of the bus were looking at him with hungry, feline eyes.
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