Edited by: Waning_Crescents
A jet of water hit the porcelain surface, steam climbed up into the room, leaving a dampness on the mirror on the wall. Sigal had his head tilted upward with his eyes closed, letting the water splash his face before it ran over his broad shoulders, along his muscular chest until it hit the floor. A thin stream of blood dribbled down from his right arm, merging with the liquid and vanished as soon as it seeped into the drain. Sigal’s grazed gunshot wound from the other day still needed time to heal and because he overexerted himself in the course of events, it reopened a little bit again, yet he paid it no heed.
His mind solely revolved around Cal’s condition and how it came to be. He opened his eyes, bent his head slightly down, propping one hand on the wall. He stared at the tiles with darkness flickering in his eyes. I will find and kill you. You won’t ever lay a finger on him again. In his heart a raging volcano roared, wanting nothing more than to break free to send a certain someone to the depths of hell.
While he tried to contain this intense feeling, his other hand wandered down to the valve, turning off the water. He remained in that position for a few more minutes; strands of his hair stuck to his face while droplets of water trickled down from the tips. After he took a few deep breaths, he turned and exited the shower, grabbed a towel, rubbed himself dry and placed it over his hair.
From the corner of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of the blood-stained shirt which he had tossed on the floor; his heart sank. The blood wasn’t his but Cal’s, which stained Sigal’s clothes as he held and carried him. He grabbed it, stowed it into a basket before he got dressed and left the bathroom while he rubbed his hair with the towel, slumping down on the couch in the living room. Even though the exhaustion settled more and more in, he still refused to take a night's rest. Instead, he grabbed his laptop and started to write a detailed report for Vince. The more information he provided the more thoroughly they could execute their investigation after all.
However, even if the mind was willing, the body was not. Sigal’s eyelids grew heavier by the second, causing him to blink and shake his head a few times to stay focused, but with a body that was at its limit, nothing would work to keep it going. Only a few minutes later he plummeted backwards onto the couch, entering a dreadful dreamscape.
***
A thick layer of eerie fog laid like a cloak over the area, the moon timidly hiding behind the clouds, wrapping the entire area in pitch black darkness. An icy wind traveled through the empty streets while vile laughter filled the air.
Sigal ran around this ghostly district, distress visible in his eyes, while he pointed his gun forward.
‘You are too late. Too late!!’
These words came from an unknown source, infiltrating Sigal’s mind, pounding vividly against his scalp.
Sigal shook his head and pressed onward as a brimming light illuminated a building at the end of the street. Sigal stopped in his tracks for a second before he gritted his teeth, dashing towards it.
‘What are you looking for?’ The voice giggled as if mocking him. ‘You are too late!’
Sigal paid it no attention, entering the place which was the familiar parking garage. The lights inside were lit up like before, yet it emitted a different aura. A thick scent of blood lingered in the air, a suffocating uneasiness erupting in Sigal’s heart.
‘Useless, useless.’ The voice repeated over and over again.
Sigal pressed on until he saw at the bottom layer of the building a young man with white hair, lying in a pool of blood.
His eyes widened; breath caught in his throat. “Cal!”
He hurried over, dropped to his knees and heaved him up. Cal’s eyes were half-open, his face deadly pale. From the corner of his mouth dripped blood as he feebly stared at Sigal. “W-Why didn’t…you…come sooner…why did you not help me?”
Unable to move Cal coughed a mouthful of blood while he laid in Sigal’s arms, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I…waited…”
“I am sorry. I am so sorry; I am here now. Everything will be fine. Hang on, please!”
“It’s too late…” Cal said in an almost inaudible voice. “Good…bye…” A haze formed over his pupils, his head dropping to the side. Blood gushed from his nose and ears, the life fading from his body.
“No!!” Sigal yelled, panic-stricken. “Don’t give up! Don’t leave! Cal, wake up!!!”
‘You can’t protect anyone! Useless.’ That disturbing voice echoed again.
“You can’t die!” Sigal picked him up, trembling uncontrollably. “Please, fight!”
The next second a separate section went up in flames and amid that raging fire laid another young man, one hand outstretched into the investigator’s direction. Sigal froze, his chest tightened, and his head spun.
The young man mouthed something, but Sigal couldn’t hear it clearly.
***
Startled awake; Sigal jerked forward, his body drenched in sweat, panting heavily. He stared at his hands before his eyes wandered to either side of the room in confusion. He was still in the living room on the couch where he fell asleep the night before. A dream?
He hurriedly grabbed after his phone staring at the screen where no notifications showed up. He exhaled in relief; no messages or calls meant nothing unforeseen had happened while he was asleep. Although this was good news it also meant that Cal still didn’t wake up.
He let himself fall backwards into the cushion at the back of the couch and put one hand on his forehead, taking a few deep breaths. This nightmare rattled him to his inner core, events overlapping, exposing his repressed fears and emotions.
It took him a while until he somewhat calmed down, pushed the dream aside for now and concentrated on finishing the report before he went back to the hospital.
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