Chapter 20
In the desolate warehouse, Victor stands motionless as he finds himself stuck between his internal thoughts and the surrounding noise. The pounding of blood in his ears merges with the encroaching shadows ready to tear through his walls and devour him.
"Welcome back, Jack."
It haunts but rings true. As soon as Victor opened the box, he immediately grabbed the blood-soaked handkerchief before his hands began to shake when he examined it against the light. The rust-red splotches contrasted with the washed-out cloth, and he was briefly consumed by a flash backing memory: A dark alleyway lay shrouded in darkness and the voice of another person's screams filled the air. His face became splattered with blazing red blood.
Victor whispered; his voice quivered. "No." Drunk as he w
