“Wakey, Wakey Alex”

Alex bolted upright. His breathing hitched. He knew that voice.

Frederick stood across the bed, hands clasped behind his back.

Stabbing pain clawed into his side like knives carving through his skin, deep into his muscles -- Hot and sharp.

He gasped for air— cold, **intangible** — as he fell back.

The light stung his eyes.

“Now, now. We don’t want to burst open those stitches, do we?”

The mattress below his feet dipped in softly. He scrambled back. His legs recoiled to his chest. The heart monitor beeped furiously. Another wave of sharp pain spiked through his nerves. Alex swallowed hard, pressing down his urge to scream.

Frederick now sat right in front of him, gently running his fingers over the white sheets.

“What are you doing here?” Alex dared to move.

“Just paying a little visit to my dear nephew…” he said, his voice dripping with bitter sweetness, “yet this is how I’m welcomed.”

He clenched his sheets tighter. His breath caught in his throat. Alex resisted his need to yank off his canula and sprint.

“What do you want, Frederick?” Fear strangled his throat. Frederick's other hand was fixed behind his back. He was holding something. Alex decided he didn’t want to know what it was.

“Who, me?" his uncle laughed with a hint of amusement. "What would I want, son?”

He reached out for his face with his free hand.

“BACK OFF!” Alex's heart monitor spiked. His breathing shallowed. His view tunneled.

“What... whatever you plan...”, He muttered, "Not gonna... work."

Frederick smiled. He smiled like that of an Avaricious man. A man whose eyes gleamed with greed.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He stood up, towering over him.

The hospital room seemed to close in around Alex. His scream died in his throat.

Frederick brought out his other hand, revealing a scathing knife.

Blood drained from Alex's face. Frederick threw his head back into a roar.

“What this?” He casually held up his knife like a pen. “Oh don’t worry. I won't stab you.”

He toyed with the knife. His eyes glinted with selfish delight.

“It’s her.” He smiled.

As if right on cue, the door of the ward opened.

“Alex?”

It was Avery’s voice.

Frederick charged.

“NO!” he screamed. “NO, DON'T!”

“ALEX!”

His eyes flung open. He sprang up right into Avery’s face. She flinched.

“Woah man, take it easy.” Will propped his elbow conveniently on Avery’s shoulder, who was sitting right where Frederick was.

“You’re alive…” He blurted.

“Either that or all of us are dead.”

“William!” Avery swatted his arm. Her shoulders were tense.

It took a while for Alex to realize he's been holding onto her. He immediately withdrew his hands.

“Frederick… He—“

“Hey, hey, hey...” Will cut him off, his voice low. "How 'bout we focus on healing now, alright?"

He smiled. But it didn't reach his eyes. Sleep clung under his eyes, his eyebags resting under them.

He swayed, his elbow on Avery's shoulder being his sole support.

He looked. tired. Both of them did.

Alex forced himself to steady his breath.

He closed his eyes. But Frederick's laughter rang in his head. Loud. Unsparing.

He felt Avery's fingers tighten around his wrist. A reminder he was no longer living the nightmare.

The Nightmare was gone. _But Frederick hadn't. _

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__

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And the stab in his side stood as a proof.