Chapter 3 NIGHTMARES!

Angela's Point of View

"Mother!" I screamed, thrashing in my bed. My voice echoed in the room, raw with desperation.

"Hey! Wake up! It's okay!" Someone's hands shook me firmly, pulling me from the clutches of my nightmare. My eyes flew open, wild and searching, until I locked eyes with her-a familiar, comforting face.

"It's me! You're safe now. You're safe!" she whispered, her voice filled with urgency as she wrapped me in a tight hug. My face pressed against her chest, and she stroked my back soothingly. "He can't get to you here, Angela. None of them can."

Her words were a lifeline, and I clung to her as my sobs wracked my body.

"It's fine, baby girl. I'm here for you, just like always. You can cry all you need-I'll hold you," she said softly, her voice steady.

"He... he smirked harder than before," I choked out between sobs. The vision of his cruel face flashed vividly in my mind.

"Her face was black... burnt beyond recognition," I added, my voice trembling as tears streamed down my face.

I could barely breathe as I continued. "He couldn't even lift a finger after what they did to him."

"Shh," she whispered, holding me tighter. "It's okay. You're just shaken, Angela. You've been through so much. It's normal to feel like this. But you're safe now, just like always. You're going to be okay."

"But they don't look okay," I whispered, my voice cracking as I clung to the horrifying images burned into my mind.

"They're fine, Angela," she insisted, her voice unwavering. "They're resting in perfect peace, and they're watching over you. They're proud of you-proud of how far you've come. Don't doubt that."

"Are you sure?" I asked, my voice small and fragile, like a child seeking comfort.

"Of course, I'm sure," she said firmly. "Don't let what you saw convince you otherwise. They're fine, and so are you."

She gently pulled away, cupping my tear-streaked face in her hands. "Look at me, Angela. You don't need to explain what you saw. It's in the past, far away. You're here, safe, and nothing can change that."

"But he was smirking," I said, my voice trembling as fresh tears welled up. "He looked so happy, like what he did was some grand accomplishment. And all I felt was my heart shattering. It's my fault. I caused this. And now... now, I'll never be happy. Not ever."

"Stop that!" she snapped, her voice sharp but filled with concern. "Don't blame yourself, Angela. She told you not to!"

"I'll carry this guilt forever," I whispered, the weight of it crushing me.

"Angela, please," she pleaded, her tone softening. "Get a hold of yourself. You can't let him win. Remember what she told you. She wouldn't want this for you."

"I wish I could forget, but I can't. It's like it's etched into my soul," I said, my voice breaking.

"He's not worth these tears," she said, her eyes blazing with determination. "Don't let him disorient you. You're stronger than this, Angela. You have to push past it. For your own good."

"Must you always cuss in every situation?" I asked, a weak smile tugging at my lips despite the pain.

"Yes, I must," she said with a shrug. "Where's the fun without a little spice?"

Her humor broke through my despair, and I managed a small laugh.

"Now listen to me," she continued. "The next time he tries to haunt you, shut him down. Don't let him take your peace. Promise me you'll try."

"I'll do my best," I replied softly.

"Good. Now, back to bed. You need rest. Tomorrow's going to be a long day with your gigs," she said, gently guiding me back under the covers.

Devin's Point of View

I tossed and turned in bed, the weight of an invisible burden pressing down on me. My body was drenched in sweat, and my mind raced with images of pursuit and danger. I was running, running for my life, my legs aching but refusing to stop.

With a gasp, I sat up abruptly, panting like I had been sprinting for miles. My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath. The fear clung to me, suffocating and relentless.

Stumbling out of bed, I made my way to the bathroom. I turned the shower on full blast, letting the cold water pour over me. It wasn't soothing-it was jarring, shocking me further. My head pounded, and my body felt like it was on fire despite the icy cascade.

After a few minutes, I turned off the water and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around my trembling frame. I made my way to the closet, pulling on a pair of shorts and a long satin coat. My reflection in the mirror stared back at me, haunted and disheveled.

In the kitchen, I reached for a nerve-calming pill, swallowing it with difficulty. It felt stuck in my throat, though I knew it wasn't.

"Are you okay, sir?" Miss Donna's voice startled me, and I turned to see her standing nearby.

"Yeah. I'm fine," I replied gruffly, my voice hoarse.

I didn't wait for her response. I left the kitchen and made my way to the living area, pouring myself a stiff drink.

"Sir!" Jordan's voice cut through the silence as he rushed in with two others. "We caught them. They're locked in."

"Good," I said curtly, waving them away.

Inside, my excitement burned. The miserable creatures were finally within my grasp. Changing into something more fitting, I headed to the judgment quarter.

There they were-chained and shivering in bowls of icy water. My satisfaction grew, but it wasn't enough. His face still loomed in my mind, and my anger demanded more.

"Add more ice," I ordered.

Their protests and mumbled pleas fell on deaf ears.

"For how long have they been there?" I asked Jordan.

"An hour, sir," he replied.

"Why wasn't I informed earlier?" I snapped, anger flaring.

"You were asleep, sir. We didn't want to disturb you," he explained hesitantly.

"Damn it!" I roared, picking up a hammer and throwing it in frustration.

As I stalked closer, I noticed they were still clothed.

"Why are they still dressed?" I bellowed, grabbing Jordan by the collar.

"There's a lady among them," he stammered.

"And? Do you want to take her place?" I snarled.

"No, sir!" he cried, shaking his head fervently.

"Then strip them and throw them back in!" I ordered.

Their screams and protests blurred into the background as my phone rang. I checked the caller ID and answered immediately.

"Are you okay?" the voice on the other end asked.

"What?" I snapped, still on edge.

"I know it's been rough. Should I come over?"

"No," I said, my voice cold.

"You don't sound fine."

"I'm going out for a drink," I said, ending the call.