"Girlfriend? What are you talking about? I'm single. Who did you let into my room?"
The nurse looked a little taken aback. "Well… she seemed pretty insistent. There were tears and everything."
Zayne sighed, rubbing his temples. "Ah, whatever. It's not like anything happened. I'm just… over everything right now."
The nurse let out an awkward laugh before calling the doctor. He arrived shortly after, taking a seat across from Zayne.
"So, Mr. Zayne, how are you feeling? Any distress or unusual symptoms?"
Zayne sighed. Hospitals were in his top three least favorite places. "I'm fine. Just a headache, and I feel a little exhausted. But other than that, I'm good."
The doctor gave him a skeptical look. "You only have a headache after spending a few weeks with almost no brain activity? You don't find that strange?"
"Well, I mean… I was dreaming the entire time, so I don't know how my brain wasn't working."
The doctor's expression darkened. "Mr. Zayne, don't play dumb with me. What are you really?"
He raised a hand, and a glowing silver blade extended from his wrist. The moment it appeared, Zayne felt something shift in the air—something wrong.
Zayne stared at the energy blade, his brain scrambling to process what was happening. Why is my life in danger again? I just woke up!
"Look, man, I really don't know what—" He cut himself off, grabbed the nearest lamp, and hurled it at the doctor before bolting for the door.
He had no idea how he'd survived the first time, but he damn sure wasn't planning on dying again.
But the doctor was right behind him. And somehow, Zayne knew—the man wasn't even running at full speed. He was toying with him.
"Shit, all this over a stupid question. Should've just ignored her, and I wouldn't be in this mess."
Zayne kept running, pushing aside the looming dread clawing at his mind. He reached the stairwell door and grabbed the handle—only to slam into an invisible barrier. He stumbled back, gripping his nose.
"Wow. Dead for a second time, and all because I asked a girl if she was a werewolf."
A voice echoed behind him, laced with cruel amusement.
"You've run far enough, boy. Tell me what you are so I can know what wretched thing I've cleansed from this world."
Zayne exhaled sharply, shaking his head before settling into a fighting stance. If he was going down again, he wasn't going down without a fight.
"Look, man, I have no idea why you think I'm some kind of monster. I wish I was—maybe then I could get out of this alive. But something tells me that's not happening."
The man let out a maniacal laugh. "Still pretending? I can see the thing inside you, writhing in your shadow. Now die, monster."
In a blink, the man disappeared—only to reappear inches from Zayne, silver blade thrusting straight for his chest.
But something was off.
The attack, meant to be instant, felt slow in Zayne's eyes. He dodged effortlessly, his body reacting before his mind could even process why.
"Well, that's new. Maybe this psycho's onto something."
The doctor growled in frustration and lunged again, but just like before, Zayne slipped past the attack with ease. Snarling, the doctor unleashed a relentless barrage of strikes, yet every single one missed its mark.
Zayne wasn't even sure how he was dodging—it was like his body moved on its own, reacting before he could think.
The doctor abruptly halted, exhaling sharply as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Clearly, I've underestimated whatever you are," he muttered. "Unfortunately for you… I won't be holding back anymore."
The doctor raised two fingers in front of his face, and a surge of energy crackled around him before settling. His hair faded to silver, and the blade extending from his wrist grew even longer, humming with power.
Then—he vanished.
A gust of wind brushed past Zayne from behind. He barely had time to turn before the cold edge of the blade was already at his throat.
But before it could strike, something else moved.
A shadowed limb shot out, grasping the glowing blade mid-strike. Both Zayne and the doctor stared in shock as a towering, humanoid figure emerged from Zayne's body—its form inky and shifting, still tethered to him by a thick, writhing tendril.
The doctor's blade trembled in the grip of Zayne's shadow, a flickering, half-formed entity with elongated limbs and glowing, hollow eyes. For a moment, both men stood frozen—until the doctor twisted his wrist, shattering the shadow's grip with a surge of silver energy.
Zayne barely had time to react before the doctor lunged again, his glowing blade a silver blur. Instinct took over, and Zayne ducked low, rolling across the hospital floor as the weapon sliced through the air where his head had been.
"You're fast," the doctor admitted, eyes narrowing. "But not fast enough."
He raised his hand, and in an instant, five razor-thin blades of silver light erupted from his fingertips, shooting toward Zayne like homing missiles.
Zayne cursed and leaped sideways, barely managing to twist his body mid-air to avoid getting skewered. One blade grazed his arm, searing pain flaring through him.
Before the doctor could press his attack, the shadow struck.
It surged forward like liquid darkness, forming jagged claws that slashed at the doctor's midsection. The doctor jumped back, but not before the shadow's talons raked across his coat, leaving behind deep, smoking gashes.
"Tch." The doctor scowled, gripping his side. "Of course, it's a parasite."
He moved again, this time appearing behind Zayne in a flicker of silver light. Zayne barely turned in time to see the blade coming—
CRACK.
A massive shadowed fist slammed into the doctor's ribs, launching him sideways into a row of overturned hospital beds. He hit the ground hard, coughing as the impact shattered the tiles beneath him.
Zayne staggered, gripping his burning arm. His breath was heavy, but his shadow—it was moving independently now, standing tall beside him like a guardian wreathed in darkness.
The doctor forced himself to his feet, silver energy crackling around his form. He should have been fast enough to dodge that punch. But the shadow—it was adapting.
He lunged again, faster than before, his blade a streak of silver. Zayne barely dodged, rolling to the side, but the moment the doctor moved to follow—
The shadow lashed out with a tendril, wrapping around his ankle.
Zayne didn't waste the opening. He lunged forward and drove his fist into the doctor's gut. It wasn't strong, but it was enough to break his balance.
And that's when the shadow seized him.
Dark tendrils exploded from the floor, wrapping around the doctor's limbs, constricting and pulling him downward. He thrashed violently, his silver aura flaring, but the shadow only tightened its grip.
Zayne watched, panting, as the doctor struggled harder—but it was no use. The shadows dragged him to his knees, then yanked him down further until only his face was visible above the swirling abyss.
The doctor sneered. "Do it, monster. Finish it."
Zayne hesitated. He didn't know what his shadow was truly capable of, but he knew one thing—this thing wasn't letting go.
With a final shuddering pull, the doctor was swallowed whole.
The room fell silent.
Zayne stood there, catching his breath, before looking down at the flickering darkness at his feet. His shadow slithered back toward him, shrinking and twisting until it melted into his own.
"...What the hell are you?" he whispered, but he wasn't sure who he was asking—the shadow… or himself.
The shadow didn't speak. Instead, it simply pointed at Zayne, then at itself, before slowly pressing its hands together. Without another gesture, it seeped back into his body, vanishing as if it had never been there.
Zayne exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. The doctor was nowhere to be seen, not even a trace left behind. When he turned around, he noticed the barrier that had trapped him was gone.
Finally, he could leave.
He sighed, rubbing his temples. I'll figure all this out later... after a nap.