Chapter 1: An Old Nightmare

In the chill of the autumn in the downtown Saturday bustle – couples strolling hand-in-hand, buskers strumming melancholic tunes, and the smell of roasted chestnuts and pumpkin spice lattes hung heavy in the air.

A couple was sitting on one of the benches. The woman, Amelia, was staring at the cup of coffee that they bought earlier with a pretty difficult face before glancing at her boyfriend, Victor who seemed to be really focused on his phone.

"Hey," she began, her voice tight. Victor finally looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before being replaced by curiosity.

"Yeah?"

"We need to talk," she said, her smile faltering. 

Amelia tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit of hers that used to be endearing. Now, it just felt pointed. 

Victor furrowed his brow, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach. "Talk? What's going on?"

"Victor, listen to me first. Please."

"Ok." Victor, trying to calm down.

She took a deep breath. "It's about...us."

The crowd seemed to thin around them as if the city itself held its breath and the bustling sounds of the city faded into the background as the weight of those words hung in the air.

"Us?" he echoed, his voice sharp. "What about us?"

"It's just…"

"We haven't been… really happy." She sighed, her voice barely above a whisper. "For a while now."

"I think we're heading in different directions with our life and I felt that I need space to figure things out, Victor," she admitted, the words tasting like ashes in her mouth.

His eyes widened, disbelief settling in. "But we've been through so much together. Can't we work through this?"

She shook her head, strands of her chestnut hair falling across her face. "Sometimes, it's better to let go before things get too complicated. I hope you understand."

Desperation etched across Victor's face as he reached for her hand. "Noooo, please. We can make it work. Just give me a chance."

She hesitated, torn between her decision and the emotions bubbling within. 

Before she could respond, a distant sound grew louder, a low rumble filling the air. Both of their eyes widened as they turned toward the noise.

"What's happening?" he asked, a mixture of confusion and concern in his voice.

Suddenly, a surreal sight unfolded before them – a massive trunk appeared out of nowhere, hurtling towards them with surprising speed. 

Panic seized both of them at the sight.

In that split second, the world slowed down, and out of nowhere, she shoved him with all her might. 

"Victor, move!" Amelia screamed.

He stumbled back, phone clattering to the ground, just as the monstrous trunk of the car slammed into Amelia, the force of the impact throwing her off the bench in a sickening arc. 

Time seemed to stop completely. Victor, frozen in a state of horrified disbelief, watched as Amelia's body collided mid-air with a nearby lamppost before crumpling lifelessly onto the ground.

The screech of metal on metal finally ended as the runaway truck, its momentum spent, shuddered to a stop. The city noises returned in a deafening rush – sirens wailing closer, shouts of panicked witnesses, the frantic honking of horns.

But for Victor, the world was muted. He stumbled forward, his legs shaky, disbelief battling with a rising wave of nausea. 

He reached Amelia, his hand hovering over her still form. He couldn't bring himself to touch her.

A choked sob escaped his lips as he saw the unnatural angle her arm twisted at, the stain blooming on her formerly vibrant jacket.

"AMEEEELLLIIIAAAAAAAA…..!!!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

!!!

Gasping, Victor bolted upright in his bed. His eyes snapped wide open and his chest heaved, each breath rugged and uneven.

Sweat clung to his skin, cold and clammy despite the warmth of the room and he could feel that his heart was beating frantically inside his ribs.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he rasped, trying to force his breathing under control. Sweat beaded on his forehead, trickling down into his hairline.

When Victor's breathing was finally under control, he covered his face with both hands, and through the gaps of his fingers, he somehow noticed that the sheets tangled around his legs were slick with moisture. 

Victor lightly shakes his head, letting out a sigh and closing his eyes shut. He then lightly rubbed the corners of his eyes with both hands. 

After a moment, he managed to croak out a question. "Why the hell am I dreaming about that again?" 

He knows it was just a dream. A bad one, sure, but a dream nonetheless. Fifteen years. Fifteen damn years had passed since that day. Why the hell was it haunting him now?

Victor then opened his eyes again, staring at the flickering light on the ceiling. The question hung heavy in the air, unanswered. 

"Forget it." He blurted, knowing better than anyone that dwelling wouldn't bring her back to him. With a sigh that carried the weight of the past five years, Victor threw back the covers. 

Sleep, it seemed, was a luxury he wouldn't be indulging in for a while. Without thinking much, Victor scanned his bedroom. 

It was a surprisingly modest space, adorned with a simple mix of furniture and a scattering of a few personal belongings that he had.

He then glances at the faint glow of his digital clock displayed at 6:12 AM, and a long sigh soon escapes from his mouth.

"It's still way too early…" Victor muttered quietly, tossed himself back onto the bed, and soon stared at the ceiling as his mind wondered what his next steps would be. After a couple of minutes of thinking a lot, nothing really came into his head that could help him distract his chaotic mind.

With a light sigh, Victor turned his head to the side and his gaze landed on his phone that was on the nightstand. 

At that moment, a light bulb flickered in his head. 

"I guess I have to call that guy." He muttered, a soft smile appearing on his lips, knowing the right guy in his mind that he could contact as he was someone that Victor could talk to easily and wouldn't judge him as much. 

After snatching his phone from the nightstand, he quickly opened his contact list right after unlocking the phone screen, and his thumb soon scrolled through his contacts list, stopping at a name that always brought a wry smile to his face – Marco.

"I hope this bastard wouldn't chew me off for calling him this early." He muttered, scratching the back of his head. While he knew Marco wouldn't mind Victor calling him, Marco would still be angry at him for disrupting his beauty sleep.

He could just call the other guys that he is close with but in all honesty, he felt that is the only person in his list of buddies that he trusted enough to unload his emotional mess onto even at this ungodly hour. 

Despite a pretty terrible personality, Marco is actually a pretty nice guy in his book because he is the type of guy who wouldn't judge wrongly without hearing first and wouldn't pry deeply unless the other person felt comfortable about it. On top of that, when you need someone to talk with or a steady presence at the very least, he'd be there.

"Alright, here goes nothing," he muttered, tapping the call button after taking a deep breath. He hit the call button and placed the buzzing phone close to his ear.

The phone rang once, twice. Just as Victor started to consider hanging up and trying to salvage some sleep, a gruff voice filled his ear.

"Victor? What the hell man?! This better be good, man. It's barely past sunrise."

"Yeah… sorry for bothering you at the ungodly hour," Victor muttered, his voice ragged. "But listen, I'm calling because it's kinda important, and I was hoping maybe you could –"

"Important?" Marco scoffed through the phone. "Dude, it's 6:13 AM. The only important thing that I cared about this early is catching the first rays of sunlight on a perfectly brewed cup of coffee, not whatever's got you calling like a lovesick teenager."

Victor winced at the irritation in Marco's voice. He knew Marco wouldn't mince words and he was pushing his luck. 

Briefly, he considered sugarcoating it, saying he just needed someone to talk to. But that nightmare was still too overwhelming emotionally to him and he really needed someone he could trust right now.

Taking a deep breath, Victor blurted out, "Right, right. I know that you're really mad right now but I really need a favor right now."

"A favor, huh? What is it?" Marco grumbled.

"Could…could you come over? There's something I need to talk about."

Silence stretched on the other end, thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, Marco's voice, low and cautious, "Talk about what, exactly?"

"I… I had a dream. A bad one. It's messing with me." Victor felt a familiar tightness in his chest, the echo of a long-ago terror.

"A dream? Let me get this straight, you calling me out of bed at the crack of dawn because of a bad dream? Are you joking right?" There was disbelief laced with a hint of concern in Marco's voice.

"No, I'm not joking and it's not just any dream, dude" Victor pressed on, his voice gaining a desperate edge. "It was… that nightmare."

After a while, a groan soon erupted from the phone, so loud Victor practically felt the sound waves. "Honestly Victor, you're such an annoying piece of sh#t, you know that dude?"

"Hey man, I can't help it." Victor countered, a hint of a smile creeping back into his voice. "I honestly didn't expect that old nightmares would reappear so suddenly out of nowhere."

"Alright, alright, I get it" Marco conceded with another sigh, a hint of irritation seeping through. Relief flooded Victor's emotions. "Seriously, man? You're the best, Marco. You won't regret it. I promise."

"Yeah, yeah, just promise me this conversation won't involve any creepy crawlies or existential dread because my brain can't handle that kind of deep stuff before my first cup of joe."

"No promises on the existential dread," Victor admitted, "but I can guarantee zero centipedes or spiders of any kind."

"That's good enough for me," Marco said, a yawn escaping his lips. "And also make sure there's actual coffee, not that burnt sludge you call your morning brew.."

Victor chuckled. "Hey, my coffee isn't bad! Just...strong. Like your love for sleep, apparently."

"Touche," Marco conceded. "Alright, alright. I'm getting up. Just promise me there'll be actual caffeine this time, not that burnt battery acid you call coffee."

"Deal. And hey, how about you sweeten the pot? Any chance you could snag some breakfast on the way over?."

Another groan, but this time it sounded more resigned than annoyed. "Sure, sure. Breakfast burritos it is. But you owe me big time for this."

"You are a saint, Marco. Seriously, a lifesaver. Just text me when you're on your way."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry, I won't get lost. Now get this over with and hang up before I change my mind."

Victor laughed again, the sound warm and genuine. "Alright, alright. See you soon, buddy."

To Be Continued