5
Christopher woke slowly, clawing his way out of unconsciousness and dreams. Dreams where he ran down endless library stacks chased by a dark hooded figure. He looked for a book that would save him and banish this demon pursuing him. But now consciousness beckoned and he raced towards it, expecting at any moment to feel the hand of the demon on him, pulling him back.
His eyes opened to a burst of light and dull white ceiling tile. He lay in a hospital bed, various wires connected him to a machine by the side of the bed. The machine made an occasional pinging noise. Thin tubes of oxygen wrapped around his head and uncomfortably into his nose. He looked at the IV line against the back of his hand, trying to piece together what had happened.
Then he remembered the man on the train,
