The sterile white of the hospital room offered no solace, only a stark contrast to the consuming darkness that had filled Mike's mind. Outside, the world was bathed in the bright reality of day, a cruel irony given the profound grief that had etched itself onto his father, John's, face. Tears, a constant companion, traced paths through the dust of his sorrow as he mourned the inexplicable loss of his wife, Abbey.
"You never recognized me, but you can see me now," a guttural, chilling voice rasped, seemingly emanating from within Mike himself. He jolted awake, the phantom sound echoing in the quiet room. A cacophony of unintelligible whispers swirled around him, a disorienting chorus he couldn't decipher. Driven by an instinct he didn't understand, Mike sprang from the bed and stumbled towards the window.
"What is it?" the doctor, his voice laced with a palpable terror, asked, reaching out a trembling hand. But Mike was already in motion. With a primal surge of strength, he shattered the glass, launching himself through the jagged opening. He found himself suspended in the open air, a terrifying freefall from the thirtieth floor.
A vortex of swirling darkness materialized above him, coalescing into a monstrous demonic form. Its gaping, blood-drenched maw opened wide, pursuing him as he plummeted. Mike gasped, desperately trying to draw breath from the thin, rushing air, the sensation of suffocation overwhelming him. He yearned to scream, but the wind snatched his voice away.
Just as the demon's fangs were about to close around him, Mike's eyes snapped open. The terrifying descent, the suffocating darkness – it was all a dream. Yet, the visceral terror lingered, a chilling premonition of the trials that lay ahead.
His father, John, his face a mask of enduring sadness, sat by his bedside, Dough a silent, supportive presence. "Mike," his father's voice cracked with emotion as he realized his son was awake. Mike's gaze swept over the faces in the room, including the curious journalists who had gathered, their presence a stark reminder of the public spectacle that had unfolded.
"Where's your mother?" John finally managed to ask, his voice thick with unspoken pain.