The Last Victor

Chapter 32

Back From The Dead - Part 1

I wake with a start, heart struggling in my chest.

Though my eyes are open I can't understand why. My heart is pounding..... every thought in high definition. I strain under the utter darkness, breathing rate beginning to steady.

It feels like I just woke up from the dead.

Wait.... did I just wake up from the dead?

My hands rush up to my face and grab it as I struggle to make out if this is reality or not. After running my hands along my the rest of body and pinching myself a few times, I let out a sigh of relief.

But my relief slowly starts to morph into an unsettling confusion as I run over the same question over in my head.

How the fuck am I alive?

My head throbs and I rub my temples as I try to think back to what I can last remember.

My mom. . . .

. . . Almost jumping off the balcony. . .

. . . Fighting with Arabella. . .

. . . Talking to Kaiden—

Kaiden!

I struggle out from underneath the covers and hurriedly make my way towards the door with a newfound sense of urgency.

However, my legs start to wobble and almost buckle out under me as I quickly reach out to grab ahold of the wall to keep me from falling.

They feel like jello— almost like I haven't used them in a long time.

Leaning my body up against the wall for support, I try to keep moving but find myself struggling nonetheless. It's almost impossible to see and by the looks of it seems like it's the middle of the night.

Thankfully, I finally find the door handle and step out into the hall.

I can't put my finger on it but for some reason the building feels...... different?

Quieter? More...... uncanny?

With my hands outstretched in front of me so I don't hit into anything, I feel my way around and try make out the area my best by memory.

Miraculously, I somehow manage to make it to the foyer.

The room's dim but bright enough, thanks to the lit candles, for me to be able to see.

Pax sits at a table in the back corner of the room, papers sprawled out across the surrounding tables everywhere. He doesn't seem to notice me and has his head in his hands, half asleep.

I open my mouth to call out his name, but only then realize how dry and scratchy my throat is. Saving myself some unneeded pain, I carefully make my way over to him to wake him up.

As I'm weaving my way through the tables, I kick one of the chairs with my foot on accident, sending a loud metal clang to ring throughout the room.