Chains of the Cosmos

An Angel Opens Her Eyes

In a vivid and horrifying vision, Nora found herself in a familiar yet surreal setting—a cozy kitchen that seemed to belong to another life. The sunlight streaming through the window highlighted her pregnant belly as she moved about the kitchen, a symbol of a life she could barely grasp as real. 

The knock at the front door startled her, but she responded with calmness, opening it to find Dr. Homer Roberts standing there, an unexpected yet not unwelcome visitor.

"Come in, Dr. Roberts. The doc isn't here," Nora said, her voice even, masking the uncertainty she felt. Homer stepped inside, his expression serious, almost urgent. "I need to talk to you, Nora. I need you to remember who you are. It's time."

Nora led him back to the kitchen, resuming her task of making a smoothie, an attempt to maintain some normalcy in the face of his unsettling presence. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Dr. Roberts," she replied, her hands steady as she sliced fruit.

Homer followed, his voice insistent. "I need you to remember me, the real me. I need you to remember when we lived underground, together, without ever touching each other. I need you to remember what Dr. Percy did to us, only he wasn't that. We called him 'Hap.'"

Nora paused, a frown creasing her brow. "I don't understand what you're talking about," she said, confusion and a hint of fear mingling in her voice.

Homer moved closer, his tone soft yet piercing. "I need you to remember who you are," he urged.

"Who am I, Dr. Roberts?" Nora asked, a tremble in her voice as she turned to face him fully.

"You are OA. You've always been OA," he declared, his eyes searching hers for any sign of recognition.

"No, I am Nora," she insisted, her voice firmer now as she finished making her smoothie. "You know I'm not feeling well, the morning sickness. Perhaps we can discuss this another time."

That's when the scene shifted dramatically. Hunter entered the kitchen, his presence charged with tension, a handgun in his hand. "She is mine, Homer. She will never be yours," he stated coldly, pointing the gun at Homer and pulling the trigger without hesitation.

Nora screamed, the sound tearing through the air as she lunged forward to wrestle the gun away from Hunter. In the struggle, a second shot rang out, hitting her in the belly. The shock and pain were overwhelming, and as she collapsed to the floor, the vision shattered.

Nora woke up screaming in her cell, a visceral reaction to the nightmare that had felt all too real. Blood was running down her face, even out of her ear, as she clutched her stomach, writhing on the floor in agony. The terror of the dream bled into reality, her cries echoing off the cold, hard walls of her prison.

As Nora lay crumpled on the cold floor of her cell, sobbing and clutching her stomach, the stark reality of her torment echoed through the silent, oppressive space. Blood trickled down her face, mingling with tears and sweat, painting a visceral picture of despair. When Hunter arrived, his expression shifted rapidly from confusion to concern upon seeing her state.

"What's wrong?" Hunter demanded, his voice tense as he unlocked the cell door. Nora, still gripped by the aftershocks of her nightmare, could barely muster the strength to speak.

"No... you killed him," she managed to whisper hoarsely, recoiling instinctively as Hunter stepped closer. "You killed the baby..."

"It was just a bad dream, Nora," Hunter tried to reassure her, though his voice lacked conviction. Ignoring her weak protests, he gently lifted her from the floor. Her body was limp, overwhelmed by grief and pain, as he carried her out of the cell. Homer, trapped in his own cell, could do nothing but watch, his face pressed against the glass, his expression one of helpless rage.