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“Please.” Tim begged, words bubbling up from his throat, pushing forth another slick, wet stream of blood through his lips. He didn’t know what he was asking for. For this to stop, for mercy. Death, perhaps. If this torture continued much longer, Tim knew that he would die. The amount of blood surrounding him made him certain of the fact, although Tim did not know where all of the blood had come from. It continued to pool out from him, from some invisible wound, spreading out to the shadowy corners of the room. “Tim.” a voice called, unseen in the shadows. A hacking cough cut off Tim’s reply, adding dark clots to the ever-growing pool. “Come on, buddy, you could have saved me. You could have, but you left me.” the voice asked, and Tim could not breath. “Brian?” he asked the darkness tentatively, crawling towards the sound of the voice on his hands and knees, already soaked in blood.
The voice did not reply.
“Tim!” another voice screamed, this time on the opposite side of the room. Tim turned towards the panicked voice. “JAY!” he called back, certain that this was who it was. Tim attempted to stand, to run towards the voice, but a piercing pain sent him crumpling back down. “It’s here, Tim. Please!” Jay cried, sounding just inches away, but Tim was unable to move. Jays sobbing whimpers ceased abruptly, replaced with an unnatural silence.
“You have to go away, Tim. I’m….I’m sorry. It’s for your own good, okay?” a woman’s voice said, it’s source seemingly directly above where Tim lay, bowed down on all fours. The blood was as deep as his forearms now. The voice belonged to his mother, although Tim was unsure, he hadn’t heard that voice in a long time. “I’ll visit you though, okay? All the time. Promise.” The lie shot through Tim like lightning, making him cry out. The blood had risen past his elbows. Tim was unsure of how he was still alive.
Voices continued to call to him; Jay, Brian, doctors, and therapists. Jessica, questioning why he had kept her death a secret. Brian, repeating the same words each time, “You could have saved me.” Jay never really left, he seemed to almost always be somewhere in the shadows, screaming or trying to suck in ragged breaths of air. He did not speak again. All the while, the blood around Tim continued to rise, unbearably hot. Tim stood, now, pressing his hands over his ears in a pitiful attempt to block out the voices. The blood was lapping at his shoulders, threatening to quickly overtake him.
Tim waited patiently for it to do so.
Tilting his head back to keep his face above water, Tim took in short, panicked breaths. The voices continued, loud as ever, even with his ears submerged.
Something grabbed Tim’s leg, yanking him underneath.
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Tim awoke, chest heaving as he sat up. He blinked rapidly, taking in his surroundings. A hotel room, the same one he had been staying in for three days. Small, dingy, and cheap, with a twin bed and broken AC. Home, for now. Tim felt himself over, checking for wounds. He knew that it had been a dream, but... He was drenched in, not blood, but cold sweat. His t-shirt and boxers clung to him, making him shiver at the sudden lack of covers. Tim had torn them off upon waking up.
Sighing heavily, Tim rubbed his eyes, peering at the cheap digital alarm clock on the nightstand. It was only 4 AM. But a second pursuit of sleep, Tim knew, was useless. Similar dreams had been occurring for months, since Jay had….
Dragging himself out of bed, Tim made his way to the bathroom, intending to take a shower to wake himself up and rid himself of the lingering feeling of blood. Today would be important. He had decided the night before that today would be the day he would go to Benedict Hall. He knew where to find Alex, or, at least he thought he did. He would have an early start.