Nicolai's world was dark. Cold. Unmoving.
He couldn't remember when it started, or how long it had been, but he was aware of something. Something distant. Like a faint heartbeat in the vastness of nothingness. It echoed in his mind, a rhythm that grew stronger, more familiar.
Then, the dream came.
He was a child again, tiny arms reaching up for his parents as they carried him through a bright field. The air smelled fresh, and their laughter rang out, a sound he hadn't heard in years. They were together, happy, smiling down at him. Their hands were warm, their faces full of love.
For the first time in a long while, Nicolai felt something stir in his chest—a fleeting sense of comfort, of belonging. But it was short-lived.
The sky darkened.
A low rumble vibrated through the ground, shaking the earth beneath his feet. Nicolai looked up just in time to see a monstrous hand—huge, twisted, and covered in dark scales—reaching from the shadows, grabbing his parents by the arms. His mother screamed, her face contorted in terror. His father's expression was one of disbelief as they were pulled away, dragged into the darkness beyond the light.
Nicolai screamed, reaching out for them, his small fingers desperate to hold on, but the force was too strong. He could only watch as they disappeared into the abyss.
Alone.
The word echoed in his mind. Alone. Alone. Alone.
Tears welled up in his eyes, hot and bitter, as he fell to his knees. His tiny body shook with sobs, and the emptiness inside him grew. But before he could give in to the crushing weight of loneliness, something strange happened.
His body began to change.
He grew taller, older. The child he had been faded away, replaced by the teenager he was now. Nicolai blinked, disoriented. His hands, now bigger, reached up to touch his face. He was no longer the boy in the dream—he was himself.
But there was something wrong.
His eyes—his own eyes—were leaking blood. Crimson tears slid down his cheeks, staining his skin, dripping to the ground. Nicolai tried to wipe them away, but more came. He felt his chest tighten as panic flooded his veins.
And then, his scream broke through the darkness. It was raw, desperate, filled with the terror of losing everything.
—
Nicolai woke with a start, gasping for breath, his heart hammering in his chest.
The world around him was unfamiliar. The white walls. The sterile smell of antiseptic. The soft beeping of machines that seemed to hum in time with his racing pulse. He blinked rapidly, disoriented, trying to make sense of his surroundings.
Hospital. The word floated to the surface of his mind like a whisper.
He turned his head, feeling the stiffness in his neck, the weight of something heavy in his body. He tried to move but was met with resistance. His limbs felt foreign to him, sluggish, unresponsive. A wave of panic hit him again. What happened to him? Where was he?
A voice broke through the haze.
"He's awake," the voice said, the sound coming from somewhere behind him.
Nicolai turned his head, his vision blurry at first. Slowly, it cleared, and he saw a nurse standing at the foot of his bed, a clipboard in her hands. Her face was neutral, professional, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes. Concern, maybe.
"Where... where am I?" Nicolai asked, his voice hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken in ages.
"You're in the hospital," the nurse replied, stepping closer to adjust the IV in his arm. "You've been unconscious for a while."
"A while?" Nicolai's mind raced. How long? He tried to recall the accident, but his memories were a blur, fragmented and scattered. All he could remember was the light. The light in the sky. And the truck.
He struggled to sit up but found his body unwilling to cooperate.
"Take it easy," the nurse said gently. "You've been in a coma for a long time. You need to rest."
"A coma?" Nicolai blinked, trying to make sense of what she was saying. "How long? How... how long have I been out?"
The nurse hesitated. "You've been in a coma for two weeks."
Two weeks.
Nicolai swallowed hard. Two weeks? It felt like no time at all. He hadn't even realized he was unconscious for that long. Was he supposed to be thankful that he was still alive? The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Suddenly, a movement caught his eye.
He turned his head sharply to the side, his breath catching in his throat.
A woman.
She was standing near the door, wearing all black—black boots, black pants, a black jacket that clung to her slender frame. Her hair was dark, sleek, and pulled back into a tight ponytail. She wore sunglasses, even though they were indoors. There was an air of mystery about her, a sense of quiet authority that seemed to fill the room.
Nicolai stared at her, transfixed. Who was she? What was she doing here?
Before he could ask, the nurse spoke again. "Don't worry about her. She's not here for you."
Nicolai's brow furrowed. "Who is she?"
The nurse gave him a strange look, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "There's no one here but me. You must still be disoriented from your time in a coma."
He looked back at the door, but the woman in black was gone. Just like that, as if she had never been there at all.
What the hell was that? Nicolai thought, his heart pounding in his chest. Was he hallucinating? Or was something else at play here?
Before he could voice his concerns, a new figure entered the room—Dr. Alvarez, a tall man with graying hair and a calm, measured demeanor. He walked over to Nicolai's bed, looking down at him with a mixture of curiosity and relief.
"Ah, you're awake," Dr. Alvarez said, pulling up a chair next to the bed. "I'm glad to see you're conscious again."
"What happened to me?" Nicolai asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why am I here?"
The doctor took a deep breath. "You were in a very serious accident. You were nearly brain dead. It's a miracle you survived."
Nicolai swallowed, trying to process the weight of his words. A miracle? Was that how people saw him? As some kind of lucky survivor?
"I don't want to be here," Nicolai said, his voice growing firmer. "I just want to go home."
Dr. Alvarez smiled faintly. "You're in no condition to leave. You've been unconscious for two weeks. We need to make sure you're fully recovered before we let you go."
"I don't care," Nicolai said, frustration bubbling up inside him. "I have no money. Just discharge me."
The doctor raised an eyebrow. "I understand your concern, but you're in a public hospital. You don't have to pay."
Nicolai blinked, confused. "The government will cover it?"
"That's right," Dr. Alvarez said. "You don't need to worry about a thing. Just focus on getting better."
But Nicolai wasn't sure if he wanted to get better. He didn't want to face whatever had happened to him. He didn't want to live in a world where everything felt so strange and disconnected.
Still, he couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that something wasn't right.
—
A week passed.
Every morning, Nicolai woke early, unable to sleep for long stretches of time. His body felt weak, but his mind was restless. He knew he should take it easy, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he had to move—had to do something.
So, he started jogging.
Every morning, before the sun came up, he would slip out of his hospital room and run along the hospital grounds. The cold air felt refreshing against his skin as he pushed himself harder, faster, until his legs burned. The physical exertion made him feel alive again, as if he could escape the fog that clouded his thoughts.
But on the fourth morning of his jog, something caught his eye.
A figure, standing in the distance.
The woman in black.
She was standing near the edge of the hospital parking lot, her sunglasses glinting in the early morning light. Nicolai's heart skipped a beat.
Without thinking, he started running toward her, his breath ragged in his chest. He needed to know who she was—needed to understand why she had been in his hospital room.
But as he got closer, she turned and blended to people walking. As if she didn't want Nicolai to catch up with her.
Nicolai stopped, panting, his chest heaving.
He had to know. Who was she? Why was she watching him?
So he ran faster. Although the woman was far, he is determined to ask her who she was because there is a sense inside that says he had to know.
Until, he grasped for air as if he couldn't breath. His vision becomes blurry. And when he was about to faint the woman wearing all black catched him.