The corridor of the medical facility was quiet, illuminated by the soft hum of overhead lights. Leah sat on her hospital bed, weak and pale, propped against pillows. Dante rested in the chair beside her, his arm in a sling, jaw tight. Elias stood near the door, arms folded, eyes flicking toward the far end of the corridor where Izana's room lay closed, ominously quiet.
"You're holding up better than you realize," Elias said softly, handing Leah a small bottle of water. "Drink a little. Hydration helps with recovery."
Leah took a hesitant sip, then placed the bottle back on the side table. "I'm… trying. But it's hard to stop thinking about everything that happened."
Dante leaned forward, voice low but firm. "You don't need to think about it. Right now, all that matters is keeping yourself together. Focus on staying alive. That's it."
Leah's lips trembled slightly. "It doesn't feel real. All of it… the kidnapping, him almost… hurting me… I keep thinking it could happen again."
Elias moved closer, voice steady but gentle. "Nothing is going to happen again tonight. Not while we're here. Just focus on yourself. That's all you can do."
Leah closed her eyes and drew a shaky breath. "I wish he was here… I wish Izana was awake."
Dante's hand clenched slightly. "He's being monitored. Sedation is keeping him stable. You're safe. That's what counts right now."
Leah nodded weakly, pressing a hand over her abdomen instinctively. Dante noticed immediately.
"You okay?" he asked sharply.
"I… I'm fine," Leah whispered. "Just… weak."
At the far end of the corridor, the door to Izana's room suddenly rattled. Inside, the sedative was holding him physically, but his mind was not at peace. He had slipped into a nightmare, vivid and relentless, pulling him into his childhood.
He was strapped to a metal table, hands bound, small and terrified. Needles pierced his arms. A doctor's voice barked orders. His father's hands pressed down, restraining him, injecting him with something that made him scream silently in memory.
Izana's body reacted violently, thrashing against the straps. One wrist restraint snapped partially, leaving raw red marks. His free arm flailed, hitting the bedframe with a metallic clang.
"No! Stop! I'm not… I'm not yours!" he screamed, voice raw. "Let me go! Please—no!"
Down the corridor, Leah flinched at the noise. "What… what's happening?" she whispered, face paling.
Dante's jaw tightened. "That's him. He's thrashing in his sleep… a nightmare. The sedative isn't keeping him completely calm."
Elias didn't speak immediately. His eyes were fixed on the door. "…He's remembering something," he murmured. "From before he was ten. That's why it's violent. That's why he's… dangerous even sedated."
Leah's hands gripped the blanket. "I can hear him… and it's like… it's like he's really in pain."
"Yes," Dante said firmly. "But you're not connected. You're safe. He can't touch you. That's the important part."
Inside the room, Izana's thrashing intensified. One arm jerked violently, finally breaking partially free from the wrist restraint. The bed shook with each motion, and the remaining straps strained.
"NO! GET AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!" he roared, his voice echoing through the room. "I'M NOT YOURS! YOU CAN'T HAVE ME!"
Nurses and doctors rushed in, shouting to contain him.
"Hold him down! Restrain him safely!" one nurse yelled.
Izana's eyes shot open in the nightmare. To him, the people in the room were the same figures from his past—his father, the doctor, cold hands and piercing needles. He swung and jerked violently, striking at them.
"NO! I WON'T! I WON'T!" he screamed again, kicking and twisting.
"Careful! Gentle, but firm!" a medic shouted as they worked to secure the flailing arm.
Leah, from down the corridor, pressed her face into her hands. "He's… he's thrashing so hard. That's my husband…"
Dante's voice was low and sharp. "Don't focus on that! You're safe. You can't be reached. Just stay calm."
Elias leaned closer to Leah, voice steady but tight. "…He's reliving his childhood… what they did to him. That's why he's acting this way. That's why the restraints are failing."
Leah's eyes widened. "The… the curse?"
Elias shook his head. "Not the curse this time. This is just… memory. Trauma. He's fighting ghosts."
Dante interjected, "Whatever it is, he can't hurt you. Focus on your breathing."
The bed rattled violently as Izana's body twisted, each motion bruising his already tender wrists. One restraint finally snapped completely.
"NO! I CAN'T—CAN'T DO THIS!" Izana screamed, voice hoarse. "I'M NOT A TOY! I'M NOT YOURS!" He jerked with so much force that the bed nearly tipped sideways.
The medics shouted, repositioning themselves carefully.
"Sir… calm down! You're safe!" one medic warned, though the sedative slowed his reaction only slightly.
Leah's face paled. "He… he sounds like he's in agony… and I can't do anything…"
Dante's hand squeezed her shoulder. "I know. But he can't reach you. That's the only thing that matters."
Elias leaned against the wall, voice tight. "…He's struggling against the nightmare… he's trying to fight them off. We can't intervene physically yet. The staff knows what they're doing. Just… stay calm."
Leah's fingers trembled. "I… I just want it to stop. For him to be okay."
Dante's voice softened, almost gently. "It will. Just a little longer. You're safe. That's all you need to know."
Minutes stretched. Izana's thrashing began to slow as the medical team gradually secured all his limbs and re-fastened the straps. Sweat glistened on his pale forehead. His muscles shook from exertion, chest heaving, face twitching under the sedative's influence.
Leah exhaled shakily, her body tense. "It's… it's over… he's alive…"
Dante's voice softened. "Yes. He's alive. That's what counts. Nothing else."
Elias's eyes stayed on Izana's door. "…For now," he muttered under his breath, jaw tight.
Leah pressed a hand to her chest, drawing in a shaky breath. "It's… terrifying… even from here…"
Dante nodded. "I know. But you're safe. That's all that matters."
Elias's eyes remained on the locked door. "Always ready," he murmured.
Leah leaned back against her pillows, letting herself be reassured by the two people who stayed with her, while at the end of the corridor, Izana's unconscious form lay strapped to the bed, still haunted by shadows of his past.