"Just a vehicle left!" A voice announced!

The announcement sent a jolt of fear through Neal as he watched the last vehicle pull in and come to a stop. His breath caught in his throat as he witnessed the frantic scramble for seats, each occupied spot amplifying his growing dread.

"No!"

Neal's cry echoed through the chaos as he glanced down, the hands restraining him seeming to tighten their grip with each passing second; his eyes bulged, his heart pounded, and his breath came in a pant.

When he looked back at the vehicle, only three seats left. And suddenly, anger boomed in him, and he looked down at the beast with blood lust.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!"

He cried as he bent, gripping their hands and peeling them off him; some of the beasts clucked their hands back on him, their instinct to return him to their queen palpable.

Two seats left!

Time seemed to slow as Neal's mouth opened in a silent scream, "No!" his heart drummed.

"Let me go!" His breath came in ragged gasps; mad with anger as he fought against the relentless pull, he peeled their hands from his legs, marching them.

Left with few hands on him, he stepped forward, wobbling as they tried to drag him. But Neal, in desperation, latched onto a passing man, his grip unyielding.

Aggressively, the man turned to face Neal. As he was about to shove Neol's hands, Neal held him more tightly, refusing to be swayed by the chaos surrounding him.

Caught off guard, the man fell to the hands of the beast, and Neal seized the opportunity to free himself.

Not looking back, not even a pity, Neal scrambled to the vehicle, pushing and smashing anyone in his path.

A woman who had fought all her life to claim the last seat got jerked away by Neal as she wanted to get in. When the woman turned to fight Neal, the door slammed before her eyes, and the vehicle zoomed away.

As the vehicle left, the floor shattered into broken glass, swallowing all living left into its abyss.

Neal's eyes snapped open, and his gaze met the sunny day through the fluttering curtain. He heard a thud of a mug cup placed on the shelf beside him, and he sprang up, his palms into fists as he got switched into defence mode.

Startled, Darcy's eyes flipped open, staring at Neal as if something went wrong with his brain.

"Are_ _ Are you okay?"

"Darcy!" Neal exclaimed surprisedly and in disbelief. "You're here!" he said, scanning her head-to-toe in her night dress.

"What?" Darcy whispered, blinking in confusion at Neal's exclamation of shock and surprise.

"Oh, God!" Neal buried his face in his palms as he grunted. Looking at his wife again, he asked, "Am I really alive? I mean I'm I still alive?"

"What's wrong, Neal?" Darcy approached him and placed her hands on his shoulders; she massaged Neal's shoulders as she instructed, "Take a deep breath, darling. Darcy is here, don't be scared."

Neal wrapped his arms swiftly around Darcy's waist, pulled her down on his lap, and buried his face in the nook of her neck.

"I missed you. It felt like ages, Darcy, ages."

"Ages?" Dacry asked surprisedly; "But I was here last night."

"But it felt like ages?" Neal repeated.

"Okay," Darcy surrendered. "And Darcy is here now," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Darcy is here, right here with you, love."