The first sensation he felt was the enveloping dark—a world of shadows. It was familiar to him, the strange realm his senses often wandered to, but this time it felt different. Like blurred vision struggling to regain focus, the shadows seemed indistinct, as though something was obstructing his clarity.
Damon's eyes fluttered open, his breathing shallow and raspy, his throat parched. The room was dim, its faint illumination barely reaching the corners, but the ceiling above him was unmistakable.
'The infirmary…'
The faint darkness didn't hinder his sight at all. For the first time, both his regular vision and his shadow perception were active simultaneously. The realization was strange, but he didn't dwell on it.
He instantly recognized where he was. He had been sent here too many times after being bloodied by his bullies. This place was no stranger to him.
