NOCTURNAL

ii | man from my dreams

ii

m a n   f r o m   m y   d r e a m s

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What the hell!

What the hell!

What the hell!

WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL!

How can it happen? How the hell did this happen? A dream is supposed to stay dream. A man in my dream, whom I don't even know, should stay in the dream. He is not supposed to exist. He is not supposed to be real.

Men in dreams do not exist in real world.

Then what or rather say who the hell did I just see inside?

After ten minutes of hyperventilating in front of the man from my dream, if he even was real, I stumbled a few steps back, my breath coming in ragged gasps. It felt like my feet were moving on autopilot as I started running toward the exit. My heart pounded so loudly I could hardly hear anything else.

Was someone calling me from behind? Was it Mohan, or was it the man from my dreams?

Mr. Vesperus.

That's what someone had called him. It must be his last name or perhaps it was his full name. I didn't stay after that and had shot out of the building right after that. Someone had called me and footsteps has followed after me but I was too busy hyperventilating and running away to look back.

And now here I stood, huddled in an alley far away from the museum gasping for air like I'd just sprinted a marathon. The cool night breeze did nothing to steady the hurricane of thoughts raging inside my mind. The dim glow from a distant streetlight cast long shadows, and the faint sounds of traffic buzzed in the background but I felt myself utterly disconnected from it all.

I leaned against the brick wall, my back pressed hard into it as if it could somehow ground me back into reality. I closed my eyes trying to push the image of him out of my mind. But every time I blinked his face resurfaced, clearer than before - those piercing eyes, that commanding presence, the way his very existence felt like it had come straight from my subconscious and into the real world.

How? How could this happen?

Footsteps echoed from behind me and I stiffened. Someone had followed me.

"Darcelle?"

I recognized Mohan's voice before I even turned. He sounded breathless and\d concerned, maybe even a little annoyed. But I couldn't bring myself to move.

"Darcelle," He repeated stepping closer, his silhouette barely visible in the dim light of the alley. "What the hell happened back there? You ran off like you saw a ghost."

And when I spoke, my voice trembled so did my hands when I pushed my hairs out of my face. "I wish it was a ghost."

"The fuck are you talking about." I stopped- stilled for a moment and analyzed his face as his voice registered in my mind.

His tone, it didn't seemed as confused as he made it out to be. Something seemed off in him. Something was different.

"Mohan—" My words died in my throat as my eyes widened in shock.

A hand shot out from the shadows grabbing Mohan by the shoulder and yanking him backward. It all happened too fast for me to react. Mohan's expression shifted in an instant—his calm demeanor vanishing and replaced by shock.