The room reeks of hatred and despair.
My feelings are slowly drifting away.
The steady beep of the machines is a heartbeat I can't control.
I hear it before I see it.
It's soft and eerie whispering.
It feels like ice cutting through my skull.
There's something in the corners of the room.
Shadows curling where no light should reach.
Faint scratches along the floorboards—though I know the bed hasn't moved.
A cold draft brushes my cheek, carrying the scent of rust and medicine.
I remember… no, I don't.
It feels familiar, though. Too familiar.
I got a taste of deju vu. As if this spirit was showing me something.
Was it the story of his past?
I wonder how long this vision is going to last.
I try to step back—back into my hospital bed—but the vision clings.
I hear laughter, distant, but wrong… distorted.
The whispers grow louder.
They speak over the galloping noises, twisting what I see.
And then… I notice him.
A man watching from the treeline.
His eyes are empty.
His smile is mine.
I blink.
The farm is gone.
The hospital walls press in.
The shadows stretch toward me.
And it was then when I realised.
it's not showing me the past.
It's teaching me.
Reminding me.
That this--this presence.
Has always been waiting..