VOLUME THREE - PART TWO
Chapter 1 – Taking Stock
"…" Oliver looked at his hand. The same hand that he had shattered barely a day ago. It ought to have been the same mangled mess that he had gone to sleep with, and indeed, for the most part, it was.
With a great amount of effort, he tried to repeat what he'd just managed. He'd had the strangest dream, and he wasn't sure how much of what he'd experienced then had been his imagination.
His nose twitched from the pain, and his jaw tensed. Indeed, that was a nasty injury. Not the sort of hand that would be in use any time soon. Yet, his imagination had not deceived him. His little finger had moved by the smallest margin.
He tried again. The next finger over moved. Then his middle finger moved. Then his index finger, then his thumb. Each movement came with the most frightful amount of pain, but they had moved regardless.
With a sigh, he fell back into bed.
