Chapter One
Peter Ronin stood on the shore. He could feel the salty ocean breeze sweeping over his face. He finally felt free again. Water lapped over his feet while he stood watching the horizon. The sun was setting on another day, and he needed the calm of the ocean to soothe him after a long day. He couldn’t help but feel like there was something missing in his life; like he was lost in an unknown dream and he had no chance of escape. He just needed to get to Maggie. Maggie, his beautiful beacon of hope, his shining light in a world of darkness. He could hear her calling him from afar, but when he turned around, he couldn’t find her. She still called to him with a frantic urgency, but he couldn’t see where she was. Terror started to wash over Peter when he realized that he couldn’t move; he was paralyzed, frozen with fear, and unable to help the love of his life. The calls started becoming frantic, but Maggie wasn’t calling him anymore, it was Shannon. He could see her walking toward him, he couldn’t make out what she was holding in her hands but her face was bloodied with anger. Shannon’s stalk toward Peter has started to quicken, yet he still wasn’t able to move. Panic-stricken and unable to make out what she was wielding, Peter crouched down and covered his head with his arms. Trying to drown out the hysterical cries that started to circle him, he felt his heart pounding wildly in his chest.
Suddenly, he felt a wave of heat rushing over him; daring to lift his head he saw Shannon’s bloodshot eyes staring at him wildly. He saw that she was clutching a bloodied machete in her small crimson, stained hands.
“Peter,” she breathed sadistically into his face, “wake up!”
Peter Ronin shot up out of his bed screaming. It took him a moment to realize where he was and who was around him, but still bewildered from The Treatment, he was confused.
“Peter, are you all right?”
He didn’t register what was going on around him or who was desperately calling him out of his slumber. When he came to realize where he was, he saw the grey walls of the Facility surrounded him. He was being comforted by a familiar presence that tried to pull him from his comatose state. Looking up, he recognized the large, blue eyes that he had looked into so many times before. Her soft features and freckle splattered nose crinkled with concern for the sweat drenched Peter. He knew her face; he felt her breath close to his face and her warm hands encircling his face.
“There you are.” She breathed a sigh of relief.
Peter looked up at the angelic woman who had been luring him out of his nightmares, he knew who this was. He wanted to be afraid of her, even repulsed by her presence, but he felt safe in her arms. Every instinct warned him that being close to her would mean trouble for him, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was in a private sanctuary.
“You had us worried there for a minute,” she said with a warm smile.
Peter gasped, “Shannon.”
Shannon calmly wiped the sweat from Peter’s face while he processed his surroundings once more. It had been two months since he was detained in the Facility, and the Treatment had taken its toll on him. He kept having reoccurring nightmares of being trapped in his own body, not being able to do anything to help himself or Maggie. Maggie was a constant in all of his dreams; her sweet voice was all that he had left of her. He could hardly remember what she looked like, but he held on to the hopes that she would change her mind and come to his rescue. For two months, Peter lived with the blind hope that his world would return to normal and that this was all just a nightmare. Peter realized where he was before Shannon told him. The windowless room that he called home for two months was empty except for a row of iron beds. Wards that were meant to house two patients at a
Peter Ronin stood on the shore. He could feel the salty ocean breeze sweeping over his face. He finally felt free again. Water lapped over his feet while he stood watching the horizon. The sun was setting on another day, and he needed the calm of the ocean to soothe him after a long day. He couldn’t help but feel like there was something missing in his life; like he was lost in an unknown dream and he had no chance of escape. He just needed to get to Maggie. Maggie, his beautiful beacon of hope, his shining light in a world of darkness. He could hear her calling him from afar, but when he turned around, he couldn’t find her. She still called to him with a frantic urgency, but he couldn’t see where she was. Terror started to wash over Peter when he realized that he couldn’t move; he was paralyzed, frozen with fear, and unable to help the love of his life. The calls started becoming frantic, but Maggie wasn’t calling him anymore, it was Shannon. He could see her walking toward him, he couldn’t make out what she was holding in her hands but her face was bloodied with anger. Shannon’s stalk toward Peter has started to quicken, yet he still wasn’t able to move. Panic-stricken and unable to make out what she was wielding, Peter crouched down and covered his head with his arms. Trying to drown out the hysterical cries that started to circle him, he felt his heart pounding wildly in his chest.
Suddenly, he felt a wave of heat rushing over him; daring to lift his head he saw Shannon’s bloodshot eyes staring at him wildly. He saw that she was clutching a bloodied machete in her small crimson, stained hands.
“Peter,” she breathed sadistically into his face, “wake up!”
Peter Ronin shot up out of his bed screaming. It took him a moment to realize where he was and who was around him, but still bewildered from The Treatment, he was confused.
“Peter, are you all right?”
He didn’t register what was going on around him or who was desperately calling him out of his slumber. When he came to realize where he was, he saw the grey walls of the Facility surrounded him. He was being comforted by a familiar presence that tried to pull him from his comatose state. Looking up, he recognized the large, blue eyes that he had looked into so many times before. Her soft features and freckle splattered nose crinkled with concern for the sweat drenched Peter. He knew her face; he felt her breath close to his face and her warm hands encircling his face.
“There you are.” She breathed a sigh of relief.
Peter looked up at the angelic woman who had been luring him out of his nightmares, he knew who this was. He wanted to be afraid of her, even repulsed by her presence, but he felt safe in her arms. Every instinct warned him that being close to her would mean trouble for him, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was in a private sanctuary.
“You had us worried there for a minute,” she said with a warm smile.
Peter gasped, “Shannon.”
Shannon calmly wiped the sweat from Peter’s face while he processed his surroundings once more. It had been two months since he was detained in the Facility, and the Treatment had taken its toll on him. He kept having reoccurring nightmares of being trapped in his own body, not being able to do anything to help himself or Maggie. Maggie was a constant in all of his dreams; her sweet voice was all that he had left of her. He could hardly remember what she looked like, but he held on to the hopes that she would change her mind and come to his rescue. For two months, Peter lived with the blind hope that his world would return to normal and that this was all just a nightmare. Peter realized where he was before Shannon told him. The windowless room that he called home for two months was empty except for a row of iron beds. Wards that were meant to house two patients at a
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