Her eyes, the life disappearing from it. The lost and desperation just before she dies. Slowly, everything disappears from her eyes. She is no longer herself. Her memories, her emotions, her life, drains from her eyes, making them empty. It is repeated, again and again. Each time more blood streams from her body, her hair and clothes getting redder and redder. The wound in her head gets more control of her. It grows at each repetition, until she disappears in the wound that made her gone forever.

Kurt feels himself drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. It was a dream. Still, Kurt doesn’t want to open his eyes. He doesn’t want the nightmare of real life to come back again. By keeping his eyes closed, it seems the nightmare doesn’t exist. Not seeing reality makes it seem not real. The nightmare that is life won’t be when he can’t see it.

He curls up, to lay more protective of his own body. How many punches he has got, it is still his to protect.

Only then does he realize the surface he lies on is much softer than a small blanket lying on a concrete floor. The soft, warm touch of a mattress and blankets that covers his entire body. Maybe he is still dreaming. But bringing his hand to his abdomen, he feels the wounds. The pain has decreased tremendously, but the wounds are still there.

He doesn’t open his eyes. He doesn’t want to question the state of reality. He’ll just lay here until something takes him away from this nightmare.

Yet, a small sound takes his attention. The soft sound of ticking somewhere close. It was rhythmic, but not the sound created by accident. Sometimes it stopped, followed by a few clicking sounds and began again. Someone was on a computer. And that person was close by.

There was no sound of that person. No breathing sounds, no accidental body movement sounds, nothing. The sound was so clear, though. There was a person behind a computer nearby. Even though he or she was hush.

Ideas, predictions, scenarios roared through his mind. Who was this person? Was it even human? Why is it here? Where is here?

Maybe reality is better than he’d thought. Otherwise, it can’t get worse than it already is.

Slowly, he opens his eyes. This room is darker than the big hall. It is also far smaller. It has the same concrete walls and floors. There is no window. The looks are so similar to the other room, but this room has much more. Bookshelves filled with paperwork, files, some packed food, guns and ammunition. Everything is so organized, clean and put on their own place. The what looks like expensive equipment is in extreme contradiction to the poor and simple looks of the room.      

Across the bed he lies on is another source of light, far much brighter than the bulb hanging from the ceiling. A dark silhouette is preventing some of the light to his direction. He sits up straight, his muscular shoulders standing broad. His obviously curly hair marks little waves in his silhouette. The rest is blacked out, impossible for Kurt to see from his position. The feeling of protection emerges from him. The man is not here to hurt him. There is something different about him. It may be his clothes, black, clean and simple that give him this feeling. But the way he sat: strong and barely moving gave him an almost robotic expression.

There was one thing to tell with certain: there was more to him than he will ever know.       

Kurt tries to turn, to take a better look. He wants to know more of the man. By hearing the sound of Kurt, who tries his best making as little sound as possible, the man turns. He sees Kurt, shocked to his ability to hear.

“You’re finally awake.” He says, as he walks over to Kurt.

The light prevents Kurt from seeing his face. His silhouette, muscular, is all his mind can show him.

Kurt, lying motionless in the bed, just stares at him.

“Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you.” His voice is harmonious and sounds true.

“I’ll get you back home, Kurt. I promise. Everything will be fine. Try to get some more sleep, you will heal faster.”

He turns away to go back to the computer, still having Kurt lie motionless.

Just before he gets back to his original position, he turns one more time towards the confused Kurt.

“You can call me Blaine Anderson.”