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Chapter Two ✷ METH DEALERS ARE INTO BIOLOGY NOW?
Sweat trickled down Roman's forehead as his eyes were screwed shut, murmurs and pleas spilling from his mouth like a prayer. Images flashed painfully in his mind like bursting lightbulbs. They circled him in a never-ending nightmare.
He saw flashes of a golden chalice that oozed an aura of seraphic lustre but before he could even graze it, it was snatched and thrusted high into the air. His eyes widened in horror as grotesque demons emerged from the dark abyss. As Roman recoils in fear, a chilling voice stops his heart like the last hit of a drum. I'll find you, Romulus. We'll be reunited soon, your fate is calling to you. The familiarity that danced in that unknown voice made him want to cry. He could somehow feel the malice and the gentleness in it all at the same time. Then, a sudden shift to warmth, sunlight kissing his skin. A woman, with gentle features and hair cascading around her like a living inferno. A baby girl cradled in her arms and a young boy at her feet, both carrying the same fiery hair and another boy with pale moonlight hair clutching onto the woman's dress. The boy looked directly at him and his breath hitched at the sight of familiar eyes, emerald and gold. He felt his own eyes glaze with tears as the woman looked at him, curiosity bubbling in her green eyes. Suddenly the scene shifted and those green eyes were now cold, vacant of life. Protests spilled from his lips as the scene ripped away from him, slipping through his fingers like sand as the nightmare disappeared. No. No, she can't be, she can't be gone from him again. Where did she go? Where did the babies go? Someone look for the baby, it's all alone.
It was dark now but he could feel the glow of light on his closed eyelids, illuminated silhouettes moving in a haze. He slowly opened them, immediately flinching at the harsh fluorescents. He felt like his vision was being impaled in sharp bouts, the pain travelling to his brain. He blinked slowly, clenching and unclenching his fingers to drive feeling back into his limbs. He was met with the sight of a gorgeous mural, portrayed with soft and tranquil hues inspired by the Rocco style. Cherubs perched on soft wisps of cotton candy clouds as they peered down. It was one of Roman's favorite parts about the Institute and judging by the hard mattress he felt against his body, he was in the Infirmary.
Painfully he tried sitting up, groaning at the dull ache on his shoulder. He glanced at the flesh, glad to see the wound closed and replaced with a fading rune. Roman also noted that he was changed into a black tank top, figuring his ruined shirt had been burned for precaution. He ignored the tug at his heartstrings as he thought of his beloved shirt, it was one of his favorites. He also ignored the remnants of his painful nightmare but the trembling of his hands never left.
