Darkness didn't feel empty.
It felt crowded.
Voices pressed against his ears like they were trapped underwater.
"He's waking up."
"Vitals stabilizing."
"Call the doctor."
Pain came next.
Sharp. Sudden. Everywhere.
It flooded his nerves so fast his body jerked on the hospital bed.
Air tore into his lungs as he gasped awake.
His eyes snapped open.
White ceiling.
Bright lights.
Beeping machines.
Hospital.
His throat burned when he tried to speak.
"…what…"
The word came out hoarse, barely audible.
A nurse leaned over him, relief washing across her face.
"Easy. Don't try to move."
He didn't listen.
His mind was already searching.
Already racing.
Already asking, What happened?
He tried to remember.
Nothing.
Just darkness.
And then
A flash.
Rain hitting asphalt.
Another flash.
A shadow standing in front of him.
Another something sharp glinting in the dark.
His breathing hitched.
The images vanished instantly, like they'd been ripped away before he could understand them.
The doctor stepped into view.
Calm voice. Careful eyes.
"You were found unconscious near Eastbridge Road. Severe injuries. You're lucky to be alive."
The boy frowned slightly.
Eastbridge Road.
That meant nothing to him. "…accident?" he whispered.
The doctor hesitated.
It was small.
Almost invisible.
But he noticed.
"That's what we're trying to determine."
Outside the room, two police officers stood near the door.
Low voices.
Serious expressions.
One of them flipped through a report.
"No weapon recovered. No witnesses. Cameras in the area malfunctioned."
The other frowned.
"All of them?" "Every single one."
Silence.
"…You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Yeah."
A pause.
"This wasn't random."
Inside the room, The boy's fingers twitched slightly against the bedsheet.
Something felt… off.
Not pain.
Not injury.
Something else.
Something he couldn't explain.
His senses felt sharper than they should.
Too sharp.
He could hear the faint hum of electricity in the walls.
He could hear footsteps down the hallway.
He could hear the quiet rhythm of the nurse's heartbeat standing beside him.
His brows pulled together faintly.
Why can I hear that? Another flash struck his mind.
Violent.
Unwelcome.
A pair of eyes.
Not human.
Watching him.
Cold.
Predatory.
His breath caught.
The image vanished.
Gone before he could grasp it.
"Your memory loss is normal," the doctor said gently. "Trauma can cause temporary gaps. You may remember later… or you may not remember at all."
The boy stared at the ceiling.
Something about that answer didn't feel right.
Not wrong.
Just incomplete.
Like he'd been told half a truth.
Outside the hospital—
Across the street—
A black car sat parked under a broken streetlight.
Engine off.
Windows tinted.
Inside sat a man on the phone.
"Yes."
Silence as he listened.
"He survived."
Another pause.
His eyes shifted toward the hospital building.
"No. He doesn't remember."
Longer silence.
Then:
"…Understood."
The call ended.
The man lowered the phone slowly.
His gaze remained fixed on the hospital window.
"Good," he murmured.
Back inside—
The boy closed his eyes again.
Not to sleep.
To think.
Rain.
Shadow.
Eyes.
Metal.
Those were the only pieces he had.
Fragments.
Broken glass memories.
And yet—
Deep down, past the pain…
Past the confusion…
Past the emptiness…
Something in him whispered:
That wasn't an accident.
Across the room—
The heart monitor continued its steady rhythm.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Normal.
Calm.
Stable.
But for just a fraction of a second—
The sound skipped.
Just once.
Like something inside him had moved.