When he came too, Lukas found himself lying in bed inside an unfamiliar cabin. He quickly noticed someone was sitting across the room, lighting a fire in the fireplace.
He knew he had never seen this man before. Even though his back was turned, hiding his face, Lukas had never seen anyone with the same hair as the stranger. It was pure white, like the colour of snow, or bone.
'My head's so fuzzy.'
It was as though his head was spinning, sloshing around like turbulent water. He tried to sit up to reorient himself, but the stranger turned around to Lukas.
"Don't move too much! You're still healing."
His voice was clear, stern, and cold, like the ice atop a frozen lake. His eyes were a stark brown, a similar colour to Lukas' hair, if a little lighter.
The man returned to tend to the fire, just as Lukas slowly lowered himself back down, trying not to move his head too much. Now that he was conscious and aware, he thought about asking the man a question. But before he could say a word, the man cleared his throat.
"My name is Bene, I found you passed out in the middle of the woods early in the morning. Your feet were cut open and bleeding. I wasn't sure where you were from so I took you to an old cabin a family friend of mine used to own. Please don't move too much, you shouldn't be walking right now. Does that answer your questions?"
Lukas stayed silent. Bene took this as a form of acknowledgement and continued.
"What's your name kid? And where are you from?"
Lukas attempted to take a deep breath before answering, but it was dry and shallow.
"Lukas Tiro... of Shorstone."
His voice was faded and weak, and every word he said was forced and strained. But Lukas' answer piqued Bene.
"Shorstone? You sure did run a long distance. Sorry if I'm overstepping here, but why did you run so fast, and so far?"
In an instant, like a flash of a lightning-torn sky, Lukas remembered what he had seen. Seared into his mind were the horrific scenes of the night prior.
Back then, his mind didn't- no it couldn't process what he had seen. His entire system was running off instinct and pure unbridled fear. He didn't have the time to sit idly and process what was before him, as his life was in danger, or so he believed.
But now, he was safe. Safe enough to remember everything in hindsight, and his mind did not restrain itself.
First, he saw his mother, her intestines littered about. He tried to push the memory down, but that only caused more to bubble up to the surface of his memories. His father too, Caleb, Ela and Amy.
'No...'
The fresh scars of his mind were bleeding, as more was to come. His family weren't the only people affected. The residents of Shorstone didn't stand a chance. Each of their terror-filled eyes was frozen into Lukas' mind.
His heart and lungs pumped faster. His eyes refused to blink, and his stomach churned. It all was too much for him to bear...
Too much to...
Too much...
It was all too much!
Lukas could feel this sense of rejection wash over him, and he instinctively turned his body over the bed. With pain, tears, and shaken eyes, he threw up. There wasn't much in his stomach by this point, so it was very painful. Yet he was unable to prevent his stomach from forcing itself through his throat.
Bene looked over at the sound of Lukas' panic and sighed.
"Nevermind. I won't ask anymore, just tell me when you can."
He walked over to Lukas and put a bucket next to him as he proceeded to clean the mess on the floor.
"I will continue to stay here until you can walk, and until I know what happened. So... don't push yourself."
There was a long silence as Lukas breathed in shallowly. Only able to whimper a single word.
"Thanks..."
Bene simply nodded and sat down in a nearby chair.
Lukas could not cast the thoughts out of his mind. So he desperately clutched the bucket in his hands and shivered in bed. Desperately waiting for exhaustion to come and sweep his mind into unconsciousness.
But as the evening light peering through the window came and went, he was still paralyzed in remembrance. Bene offered to make some soup for him, but Lukas declined, unable to eat with his stomach still stirring uncontrollably.
At least the crackling fire helped ease his troubles slightly, enough to drift off into sleep. With one last coherent thought before he fell into slumber.
'Father... you were right... Tomorrow, I'll do it tomorrow.'