Whispers of the Past

Steve jolted upright, his heart racing, as the echoes of Faint's haunting screams reverberated in his mind. He was drenched in sweat, his breath ragged. He reached for the glass of water on his nightstand, taking deep gulps to steady himself.

"What's wrong, love?" Olivia mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep, as she stirred beside him in the dimly lit room. The clock displayed 1:30 am, a reminder of the late hour.

Steve exhaled slowly, his mind still entangled in the tendrils of his vivid nightmare. "Just a bad dream, dear. Go back to sleep. Tomorrow, we have a hospital appointment for our baby."

"Okay," Olivia mumbled, curling back into her pillow with a sigh. "Good night, Steve."

"Good night, sweetheart," he whispered, leaning over to plant a tender kiss.

Memories of Faint flooded his thoughts. With the laughter they'd shared, the moments of profound connection, Steve had built a life with Olivia since then—a life filled with love and the anticipation of their growing family. Yet, the dream had thrust him back into a world he thought he had left behind.

The faint light from the window painted the room in gentle hues as time ticked by. Steve's mind was a whirlwind of emotions, his thoughts a blend of nostalgia and anxiety. Eventually, he turned to gaze at Olivia, her features softened in slumber,

With a sigh, he shifted his focus from the shadows of the past to the promise of the future. The echoes of Faint's screams began to fade, replaced by the steady rhythm of Olivia's breathing. Determination settled within him as he wrapped his arm around Olivia, pulling her close. His mind clouded with the question what happened to her?