Darkness didn’t scare me.
What scared me was the quiet inside it.
I floated somewhere without weight, without pain, without time. My body was gone. My breath was gone. But my mind—my mind refused to rest.
It dragged me back.
Always back.
The first thing I felt was heat.
Not warmth. Not comfort.
Heat that pressed against my skin and made the air taste wrong.
When I opened my eyes, I couldn’t see smoke—but my chest reacted like it was there. My lungs burned. I gasped, my fingers curling into the fabric beneath me.
My vision blurred as I tried to sit up, panic slamming into me too fast. My head throbbed. My body felt heavy, weak, like I had been emptied out.
“Easy,” a voice said.
I froze.
A man sat a few steps away, his posture calm but alert. Not threatening. Not gentle either. H
