"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"
I jolted up from the massive, circular bed, screaming at the top of my lungs.
It was a raw, primal scream that tore at my vocal cords, the sound of a man being burned alive. I sat upright, my hands clutching the blankets, gasping violently. I was breathing with loud, ragged heaves, pulling air into my lungs as if I had spent the last hour buried alive under a ton of wet dirt.
My chest rose and fell with a harsh, erratic rhythm. Cold, clammy sweat washed over my entire body, completely soaking through my clothes and ruining the luxurious, imported silk sheets I had explicitly purchased to reward myself for surviving Elysium.
I whipped my head around, my eyes darting frantically in panic and lingering terror, ready to summon my blade at the slightest shadow.
I was in the penthouse. The quiet, secure bedroom.
