The Storm outside rattled the windows, and the air inside Zeke's room carried the scent of wet earth, along with the candle burning in the corner of the room.
Zeke lay on the bed, tangled in the sheets. His ragged breathing filled the room, and his body had begun to twitch again.
His jaw cleaned every now and then, groans of pain leaving his lips. Sweat covered his pillow, and the veins around his neck were beginning to pop and turn black.
He was about to start sleepwalking again.
Then, the air shifted.
It became somewhat colder, and the shadows by the corner of the room thickened and stretched. The candlelight was instantly snuffed out, and when the stillness returned, a man putting on a Black and Golden mask with runes stood there.
Sylas.
He looked like a silhouette in the darkness, and the hood of the black coat he wore dripped with rainwater.
