Mike's heart sank at the question, the weight of it pressing down on him like a leaden shroud. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat, tangled with the raw fear and confusion swirling within him. The reality of his mother's absence loomed large, an unbridgeable chasm that echoed the void in his heart.
"I... I don't know," he stammered, his voice barely a whisper. The room fell silent, the air thick with unspoken dread. John's eyes widened, a mixture of hope and despair flickering across his features. Dough shifted uneasily, sensing the gravity of the moment.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and a nurse hurried in, her demeanor brisk yet concerned. "Mr. John, we need to monitor Mike closely. He experienced a severe episode," she said, her gaze darting from father to son. "We believe it may be related to the trauma he's endured."
As she began checking Mike's vitals, he felt a surge of frustration. "Trauma? Is that all you think this is?" he shot back, his voice rising. "Something is happening to me, something dark!" The nurse paused, her brow furrowing at his intensity, but she remained focused on her task.
"Mike, please," John pleaded softly, his voice filled with an urgency that cut through Mike's anger. "We need to understand what's going on. You're safe here."
But safety felt like a distant memory. The dream lingered in his mind, the demon's eyes—cold and hungry—haunting him. "I saw her," he murmured, almost to himself. "I saw Mom… and something else. A demon."
The nurse exchanged a worried glance with John, who leaned closer, his expression shifting to one of deep concern. "What do you mean, Mike? What did you see?"
Before Mike could answer, the room was suddenly filled with the sound of commotion from outside. The journalists, eager for a story, began shouting questions, their voices a chaotic backdrop to the unfolding drama. "What happened to Abbey?" "Is Mike in danger?"
The nurse stepped outside to address the reporters, leaving Mike and John in a charged silence. "You have to believe me, Dad," Mike urged, his voice trembling. "I felt it. I felt the darkness trying to take me. It wants something from me."
John's expression hardened, a blend of fear and determination. "We'll figure this out together, son. We'll find your mother. I promise."
Just then, the nurse returned, her face pale. "Mr. John, we have a situation," she said, her voice grave. "There's been an incident—another family member has gone missing. We believe it could be connected to Mike."
The room felt as though it had been plunged into ice. Mike's heart raced. "What do you mean? Who?"
"Your mother," the nurse responded, her eyes filled with empathy. "We're doing everything we can to locate her, but we need your help. We need to understand what you experienced during your episode."
Mike's breath quickened as he exchanged a frantic glance with John. The sense of urgency was palpable. In that moment, he realized that the darkness he had felt wasn't just a dream—it was a warning. And if he didn't confront it, he might lose everything he held dear.
"I'll help," Mike declared, his resolve hardening. "But we need to act fast. I can feel her… I can feel the darkness closing in."
With a newfound determination, Mike braced himself for the trials ahead, knowing he was about to plunge into a world of unimaginable horrors, and perhaps, a path to uncovering the truth about his mother and the demon that haunted him.