Mark's POV
I fell into a restless slumber, my mind consumed by the image of my mother. But it wasn't the warm, comforting memory I was accustomed to. She was covered in blood, her eyes frozen in a permanent scream. "Mom... Mom," I called, as I tried to reach out to her, but my arms felt heavy, as if rooted to the spot. The blood seemed to spread, seeping into every pore, until I was growing in its crimson hue.
Suddenly, I jolted awake, my heart racing like a jackhammer. I lay there, disoriented, as the remnants of the dream lingered. But it was the sound that really shook me—the eerie, mournful wail of a distress call, piercing the air of the hotel room like a siren's cry. It seems to come from my black jacket, sending a shiver down my spine.
I jumped out of bed and quickly reached for
