Chapter 4 - Nightmares

Moisture. Cold. Darkness. I feel it all deep inside my bones. My body doesn't respond to any signals my brain sends. I can't even lift a finger. Glass shards beneath me dig in deeper, slicing through layers of skin. My wounds bleed freely, a warm, sticky sensation spreading across my body. I'm not sure what just happened. Tremors shake me, each one bringing excruciating pain. I wish it would all finally stop. Raindrops shoot down from black clouds, soaking my bloody clothes and plastering my hair to my burning face. Each drop feels like a needle prick. Lightning illuminates the darkness, and thunder rumbles through the sound of rain. I lie on the cold pavement, vulnerable and exposed, growing weaker as my consciousness slips away. Slowly, it's getting easier to let go, and I'm not sure I want to resist it.

A bright flash.

Deafening thunder.

Silence.

I jolt awake as if stung. My back burns from the sudden movement, and I gasp for breath, struggling against an invisible weight pressing down on my chest. My heart pounds frantically, so hard I feel it in my throat. The horror lingers. I feel lost and disoriented, but after a moment, I recognize my surroundings.

Suddenly, the door opens, and the light clicks on. I blink against the harsh light a few times.

"Nate, what happened?" Eleonora asks, concerned.

She sits at the edge of my bed, and motherly touches my shoulder. I notice Arthur and Kaja standing in the doorway.

Not a slightest sound escapes my lips. All I know is that I must've screamed in my sleep a moment ago. It takes another minute of steady, deep breaths before the tightness in my throat subsides.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," I apologize, my voice hoarse.

"It's fine. Was it a nightmare?" Elle asks again.

I shake my head. This was far from a simple nightmare.

"More than that," I murmur, looking up at her. "It feels like I'm starting to remember how I died."

Eleonora's face changes. Her lips press into a thin line, and she glances at Arthur, as if seeking an explanation. Standing in the doorway, he is silent for a moment.

"You sure? Maybe it was just a vivid dream?" he finally asks, breaking the silence.

"Honestly, I don't know. It's just... a strange feeling," I admit.

"If something seems off, you should tell Balthazar," Arthur suggests, scratching his temple.

Elle furrows her eyebrows, her eyes sparking with anger.

"Don't talk nonsense," she snaps. "If this is happening, Nate could be removed. Imagine what awaits if he can't be a hunter anymore."

Arthur crosses his arms, nodding in understanding.

"You're right. But if Balthazar finds out on his own, Nate won't even get a chance to explain," he replies.

Eleonora is quiet for a second, then she lifts her head firmly.

"I won't let anyone touch him," she states, gripping my hand tightly. "Even if it means turning Bardo upside down."

"Maybe I was mistaken," I interject, attempting a small smile.

Arthur raises an eyebrow, studying me, but then shrugs.

"Looks like this discussion's over. If it happens again, we'll talk about it more seriously."

Reluctantly, Eleonora nods. After a few more words, my friends leave the room.

Alone with my thoughts, I lie there, staring blankly at the ceiling. The Bardo situation doesn't scare me—yet. There's no solid proof that I'm regaining memories. Still, this isn't my first nightmare, and I can't help but wonder if there's a deeper meaning.

Are these truly fragments of my past? Or just echoes of stress from work?

My head feels heavy, so I push away my thoughts and focus on resting. Eventually, I drift back into sleep and don't wake until morning.

When I open my eyes again, I see the familiar surroundings of my room. I feel different. Nightmares always seem worst in the dark, but morning sunlight brings a sense of comfort and peace. I decide not to dwell on it.

With the bookstore closed for Sunday, I'm in no rush. I linger under the sheets, reluctant to leave. The world outside bustles with activity, but within my room, time stands still.

A sudden knock on the door disrupts my peace. I don't intend to answer, but the door opens, and Kaja flops down beside me.

"Good morning, little lady," I say, smiling as I ruffle her light brown hair.

"Come on, pull it together—I'm not ten," she snorts. "It's almost noon. Breakfast is ready."

"Alright, alright," I sigh. "Feels like I slept two hours."

"Another nightmare?"

"Nope. But I didn't get my full twelve hours of beauty sleep either," I pout.

"That won't fix your eyebags," Kaja teases.

"My eyebags are top-tier," I reply dramatically. "Someone in this house has to look presentable."

We glance at each other and burst into laughter, lying there for a moment longer.

"Do you think everything will be okay?" Kaja asks.

I know what she means instantly, and I search for the right answer, but I'm at a loss.

"Probably. Things always work out somehow."

Kaja smiles and playfully punches my shoulder.

"Then start with breakfast," she chuckles.

"Five more minutes..." I groan, pulling the blanket over my head.

She sighs, clicking her tongue as she walks away. I roll around for a moment before finally sitting up and stretching.

Free time in this household is a rare luxury. As tempting as it is to do nothing, I refuse to waste the day. I'm determined to make the most of it before another unexpected task or errand inevitably comes my way.