BLACK OUTS

Draco spent the remainder of the day in fitful sleep, haunted by nightmares that seemed to blur the lines between reality and terror. In his dreams, a colossal black wolf relentlessly pursued him, and he could feel its hot breath on his heels. Other times, he would find himself consumed by the wolf, devoured in a macabre display of predator and prey.

As the night progressed, he woke up with a start, his throat parched. Navigating his way in the dim light, he stumbled towards the kitchen for a glass of water. An unsettling feeling lingered as he passed by the mirror in his room, catching a glimpse of his reflection – a massive wolf with burning eyes. Shaken, he managed to quench his thirst before retreating back to bed.

Sleep eventually claimed him once more, providing a brief respite from his torment. But the morning brought with it a resurgence of the voice and the unbearable pain. Every fiber of his being seemed to throb, and he was tormented further by the echoing demands of the mysterious presence within him.

Just as he thought his suffering had reached its peak, a new horror emerged. His body began to shift uncontrollably, bones grinding against bones in the most agonizing transformation he had ever experienced. The pain was searing, his world was reduced to a haze of torment as he clung to the edges of consciousness.

In his frenzied struggle, he clawed at the bed, his surroundings a blur of agony. The excruciating change pushed him to the brink, and he could feel his consciousness slipping. Then, darkness enveloped him, pulling him under.

When he finally regained awareness, he found himself gripping Robin's throat, his fingers digging into the other werewolf's flesh. Confusion mingled with the sharp tang of fear as he tried to piece together what had just transpired. His chest heaved, and his vision wavered, the aftermath of the transformation leaving him disoriented and shaken.

Draco's fingers gradually loosened their grip on Robin's neck, and as he released his hold, Robin staggered back against the wall, clutching his throat. Coughs racked his body as he struggled to regain his breath, his eyes locked onto Draco with a mix of anger and wariness. The tension in the room was palpable, the air heavy with uncertainty.

Draco's confusion only deepened as he tried to make sense of the situation. How had he gone from his bed to this confrontation? Was he still in the grip of a nightmare, or was this a twisted reality he was trapped in? He needed to ground himself, to ensure he was awake. His pinch to his arm confirmed the painful reality – this was no dream.

His attention shifted to the werewolves who had gathered around Robin, forming a protective barrier as if anticipating Draco's next move. The scene before him seemed surreal, like a distorted reflection of reality. He felt a jolt of anger at being thwarted, at not being able to carry out whatever his mind had envisioned.

As Robin and the others left, Draco found himself back in his room. He suddenly realized that he was shirtless, his bare torso exposed. The sense of disarray and vulnerability gnawed at him. He hurriedly moved to remedy the situation, slipping on a shirt to regain a semblance of control over his surroundings.

Yet, as he stood in his room, the familiar pain returned – a relentless pounding in his head. He clutched his temples, groaning in frustration. "Not again," he muttered, his voice a mixture of annoyance and pain. The room spun around him, and before he could fight it any longer, darkness swallowed him once more.

Draco's senses gradually returned to him, and as his eyes blinked open, he was met with the comforting familiarity of Serena's room. The scent of her surrounded him, wrapping him in a sense of security he desperately needed. With his nose buried in her pillow, he inhaled deeply, the essence of her presence soothing his mind and body. The persistent headache that had tormented him seemed to ease, and even the voice in his head was momentarily hushed.

He sank further into the bed, the softness of the mattress a welcomed relief to his tired body. He realized that he hadn't enjoyed a good sleep in a while, and the quiet comfort of Serena's room seemed to offer solace.

As the hours passed, his slumber drifted between dreams and reality. He was cocooned in a sense of tranquility, the worries and troubles that had plagued him momentarily forgotten. But eventually, the sound of his ringing phone penetrated the peaceful haze. He reached for the device without glancing at the caller ID, his voice heavy with sleep as he answered.

"Hello?" he mumbled, the drowsiness evident in his tone.

His mother's voice cut through the fog in his mind, her words pulling him into alertness. "Draco, where are you?" she asked urgently. He struggled to shake off his grogginess, responding with a sluggish, "Mom, I'm in bed, sleeping."

Although his senses were clearer now, his exhaustion still clung to him. He could barely make out his mother's response, and before he could comprehend what was happening, the line seemed to shift. Another voice, his father's, sounded in his ear, sharp and demanding. The words registered faintly, but before he could gather his thoughts, the weight of sleep pressed down on him again, drawing him into an uneasy slumber.

Draco's eyes fluttered open once again, and this time he was met with the sight of Serena standing by the doorway, her expression a mixture of confusion and surprise. His mind snapped into focus, the fog of sleep and confusion dissipating instantly upon seeing her.

"Serena," he breathed, relief washing over him. It wasn't a dream; she was really here. She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her, and he couldn't tear his gaze away from her. He watched as she approached, his heart beating a little faster with each step she took.

But then, without warning, the voice in his head erupted in agony, its cries echoing in his mind. "You are unworthy, release me!" it wailed, and Draco's hands shot to his head as he crumbled under the onslaught of pain. Serena's voice cut through the torment, her concern evident, but the pain was so overwhelming he couldn't form words.

He felt Serena's touch, her gentle hands cradling his head, and her presence seemed to soothe the turmoil in his mind. "It's okay. It's okay now," she reassured, and miraculously, the voice in his head went silent. He allowed himself to relax, his breathing gradually steadying.

Serena lifted his head slightly, her eyes locking onto his. And then, with a sudden shift in her expression, she leaned in closer, her gaze intense as if she was searching within him. A strange tension filled the air, and Draco's instincts told him that she wasn't addressing him anymore.

"Oh, hello there," she spoke, her voice taking on a different quality. Draco felt a rush of bewilderment as he realized that Serena was communicating with the voice in his head, the same voice that had tormented him relentlessly. He could almost sense the voice's eagerness, its delight at being acknowledged by her.

He blinked, his mind struggling to comprehend what was happening. His connection with Serena had always been profound, but this was something entirely new and unexpected.