Andrew’s breath came in ragged gasps as he stood to his feet, blood dripping from his fingers and smearing across his face. His pulse thundered in his ears. His body still buzzed with energy, wild and untamed, electricity crackling just beneath his skin. He stared at his hands—hands that had taken a life.

"I... I didn’t mean to," Andrew whispered, his voice trembling as he looked at the boy’s limp form. His mind reeled, the rush of power now feeling like a curse rather than a blessing.

Meredith stood a few feet away, her expression a mix of worry and sympathy. She approached slowly, her movements cautious but steady, like she was approaching a wounded animal. "Andrew, you didn’t have a choice. He was attacking us. We didn’t have a choice."

Andrew shook his head, still staring at the blood on his hands. "But... I killed him. I didn’t want to—” His voice broke, and he clenched his fists. The sparks of electricity danced across his skin, mirroring the turmoil roiling inside him. "What if I can’t control this?"

"Hey," Meredith cut him off gently, her hand resting on his arm. The touch was grounding, pulling him back from the edge. "You’re not a monster. You did what you had to do. You saved both of us."

Andrew’s muscles tensed as the electricity flicked between his fingers. His vision swam, guilt twisting his stomach. "But what if I hurt someone else? What if I hurt you? I’ll be alone" Drifting thoughts of Ian’s body disappearing in front of him.

"You won’t," she said firmly, tightening her grip. "I trust you."

He looked into her eyes, searching for doubt, but found none. The sincerity in her voice calmed him, even if just a little. She guided him toward the water, her movements slow and deliberate, like she understood how fragile he felt in this moment.

"Come on," she said softly, "Let’s get you cleaned up."

Andrew let her lead him to the water’s edge. The cool air from the river was a stark contrast to the warmth still buzzing beneath his skin. He knelt down, cupping the water in his hands and splashing it over his face. The blood washed away, swirling in the water before disappearing downstream, but it didn’t make him feel any cleaner. His mind was still heavy, weighed down by the horror of what he'd done.

The water reflected his face back at him, distorted but familiar—except for the blood, the fear, the doubt. His reflection rippled, screen are the only thing unaffected by the water in front of him, his eyes staring back at him, full of questions he couldn’t answer. “I don’t even know who I am anymore,” he muttered, watching the red-stained water drip from his fingers.

"You’re Andrew," Meredith said quietly, kneeling beside him. "You’re someone trying to survive in a world that’s trying to kill us. That’s who you are."

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

He didn’t respond, just watched the water as it flowed, carrying away the blood. His hands shook, and he clenched them into fists again, trying to still the tremors. "I’m scared," he admitted finally, his voice barely a whisper. "I’m scared of what’s inside me."

Meredith placed a hand on his back, rubbing slow circles between his shoulders. "We’ll figure it out," she said softly. "You’re not alone in this. We’re in it together."

The words were a balm, soothing the raw edges of his guilt and fear. For a moment, he let himself believe her.

They sat there by the water, the quiet hum of the river filling the silence between them. Andrew leaned back, exhaustion settling deep into his bones. His eyes fluttered closed, and before he knew it, sleep claimed him.

Andrew found himself standing in a swirling mist, the ground beneath his feet soft and uncertain. Shapes moved in the fog—shadows of people, of memories. He felt a tug in his chest, pulling him forward.

Through the mist, he saw Ian. His brother stood in the distance, struggling with something, but Andrew couldn’t make out what. His heart raced, fear gripping him. "Ian!" he called, his voice echoing through the haze. Ian didn’t respond.

Suddenly, Flynn was there too, growling, his body tense as he faced off against something unseen in the mist. A massive figure stood towering over his brother’s dog. Andrew tried to run to them, but his feet wouldn’t move. He was frozen, helpless.

Then, from the shadows, a deep, mocking laugh echoed through the air. A tall, muscular man emerged from the mist, his figure bathed in black. A gold orb coming into view from his abdomen. His eyes gleamed with malice as he held something in his hand—an orb, glowing with chaotic energy

The orb pulsed, its glow intensifying, growing brighter and brighter until it blinded Andrew. White light filled his vision, erasing everything—the mist, Ian, Flynn, the man—all of it consumed by the searing brightness. Andrew tried to shield his eyes, but the light was everywhere, suffocating, overwhelming.

Andrew woke with a start, his heart hammering in his chest. The world slowly came back into focus—Meredith’s face hovering above him, concern etched into her features.

"Andrew, calm down!" she said urgently, her voice cutting through the haze of the dream. "You’re losing control again."

It was then that he realized the electricity was crackling around him, sparking off his skin in erratic bursts. The ground around him was charred, scorched by the wild energy flickering off him.

He sat up, breathing hard, trying to steady himself. Meredith knelt beside him, her hands hovering just above his shoulders, hesitant but ready to help.

"You’re okay," she whispered. "You just need to breathe. Focus."

Andrew nodded, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths. The electricity began to fade, the crackling sparks dying out one by one. The scorched earth beneath him still smoked, but the storm inside him had calmed—for now.

"What happened?," Meredith said softly.

Andrew shook his head, still trying to process what he’d seen. The white light, the man with the orb, Ian... it all felt too real, too vivid. But he couldn’t make sense of it. Not yet.

"I’m fine," he lied, rubbing a hand over his face. "Just... just give me a minute."

Meredith nodded, sitting back, giving him space. But her eyes never left him, watching carefully, as if she could sense that this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

Standing to his feet, “I think my brother is alive, and in some kind of trouble.”