Click.
The door to Percivals apartment creeked open, as if to let the whole building know he was home. The corridor that greeted him was slim, with a staircase on the right side, wide enough to fit one person at a time. The floor was laid with hard wood, lacquered over to look 2 or 3 shades darker. Doors numbered 1-6 lined the left side of the corridor and 7-9 lined the right side behind the staircase. The numbers nailed to the doors were lit up only by the 3 hanging lights that dangled from the middle of the corridor. The first close to the door, the last placed at the end of the hallway and between the two a larger lantern that seemed to glow brighter. The lights were dim, yet purposeful, they lit up what they needed to, just enough to where they didn't yet need to be replaced. The wallpaper was old, halfway through peeling itself off the mold covered walls behind them. They obviously hadn't been changed in years, maybe even since this place was built.
As Percival walked through the now fully open door, the musty smell of the mold, soot and a faint smokey scent wafted its way through his nose. Although Percival had once hated the smell whenever he came home, after some time he had gotten used to it, but nobody could ever be immune to such a smell. The same could be said for his dust covered surroundings. Old tables and paintings hung the walls, covered in a thick layer of dust, they hadn't been cleaned once since he had moved in 18 months ago. Percival climbed three flights of stairs, the exact same hallway housing each floor, the only difference being the second floor, which also housed the public showers and the small public kitchen area. He had passed this all as he made his way to his room, which was situated on the 4th floor.
Opening the door to room number 28, Percival hung his keys on the small hook that was provided, normally used for hats. However be had no such need for possessions such as a hat, or anything other than what had been provided when he first moved in. Following the doorway, there was a small bedroom to the right, enough to fit a single bed and a desk. To the left was a small opening, which led to an even smaller bathroom, housing a single toilet and a washbasin. Sitting in front of him, at the end of the entrance corridor was a window, it had no latch so it couldn't be opened, however the sight that seeped through was a look at the streets below him.
Although it was small, Percival had always thought it was enough for him. He hadn't the need for anything grand or luxurious, he had a bed to sleep in and a roof over his head.
He walked through to his bedroom, glancing towards the desk and then to the chair.
As he sat down across from his desk, he laid his head amongst his palms, "what is happening!" He yelled, loud enough to feel the desk shake under his elbows, it was almost as if he was expecting someone to come out and answer his question. Although he hoped he wouldn't be hearing a knock on his door from a neighbour. Percival was always naturally quiet, never really making much noise. He hadn't even introduced himself to his neighbours, and never heard complaints about himself, although he couldn't help but let it out tonight. I know it was real, but it feels like more of a fever dream. Who was that woman? And how did she cause that to happen? Did she save me on purpose? Or was it just a coincidence that she happened to be there at that time?.
Countless thoughts and questions scattered across Percivals mind, although one question stood out amongst the rest.
What was she about to say when she paused..? She was halfway through a realisation about me, but this was the first time we'd met. I need to write down anything I can remember about what happened. I may be able to find some clues.
Percival reached into the small drawer next to his desk, The last person who had lived in this room had left the desk here when he moved, it was something of an antique in its own right. Entirely made of light pine wood, with vines etched into the sides and top, it had 2 drawers, the top had been left empty but the bottom drawer had kept paper, aswell as 3 steel point pens, some notes and a sheet of stamps. Perhaps he was a postman. Percival grasped one of the sheets of paper and put it to his left side, while searching for one of the pens. He placed the pen next to the paper and continued to dive into his mind, recalling everything that had happened that evening. However he couldn't help but forget the events that took place before he had seen those bright headlights. He recalled everything after, which frustrated him even further.
I couldn't make out much of her appearance thanks to those blinding lights from the truck.. I know she was quite tall, and had a slim shape, her hair was let out, it was long, almost down to her hips and it seemed to be black, although it could've been brown too. I couldn't really tell precisesly in the darkness. She was wearing a gauze hat, something the upper class would wear, reletively new; she held an umbrella too. Her steps were light, but sounded forceful, possibly in an attempt to intimidate me, same could be said about her pace of walking, she walked as if she held too much power. The second she lifted her finger and touched my chest, I couldn't even feel myself thrown back, although next thing I knew i found myself on my back, and before I could even react the truck was gone, but so was she. Which couldn't be possible, seemingly vanishing like that? I recall the streets were empty and that there was nothing to hide behind. All there was, were buildings and the road. She could've entered one of the buildings. I'll definitely check that out tomorrow. As well as the news to see if there are any new job listing's. I think that's it for now, if I remember anything else I'll remember to note it down too.
But I'm still quite shaken up, so I think I may head down to the second floor to have a quick shower. If I don't, I fear I may never be able to fall asleep the way i am. Besides I need to clean the blood off of my elbows from when I hit the ground.
As he opened the door to the corridor, he turned back, looking at the note sitting on his desk. He walked back in and hid the note inside of the drawers. You never truly know what could happen, I don't want to be reported and possibly taken in as a psychopath, i think that would make an already shitty night even worse.
Around 45 minutes later, Percival strolled back into room number 28. Looking left and right through the corridor before closing his door and pulling the latch to lock it. He sat on his bed, feeling a lot more relaxed after his shower. It was alresdy 2:30 in the morning, if he didnt lay down now he would feel way too tired in the morning. He laid down and covered himself, the sheet was thin, barely helping to keep the cold out. But he shut his eyes and almost immediately he had passed out.
That morning he awoke frantically, rising up from his bed as if he had just been shocked throughout his whole body. The cause was the dream he had just woken up from. He tried to recall what had happened.
Sitting in a chair, there was an old man infront of him, with wrinkles plastering his face, yet a smile so enchanting, it reminded him of youth. His eyes were hazel, although they seemed to hold a lot of guilt inside them.
His hair, grey and balding around the top, slouching over slightly, it was as if he had been holding something with a great deal of weight from his neck. The old man held an orb, emitting a dim blue light from within, Percival could feel the energy from the orb without even touching it, as it seemed to hold a great deal of power.
He reached forward and touched the orb, which was now being held out to him. As soon as he touched the orb, he felt his body ache all over, his vision blurred and the sounds around him distorted.
The dream flashed, becoming more of a nightmare than a dream.
Lying in front of him, 2 dozen bodies, pierced through the heart, eyes dim, lifeless. The bodies twitched, forming cracks around the holes in their chests. Blood soaked the ground around him, forming a reflection of a blood tainted Percival, holding nothing but a scythe in his left hand.
His reflection smiled, holding close eye contact, all he could feel throughout the entirety of his body, was the ice cold chills emanating from the gaze through the reflections blood red eyes. This was when Percivals dream had collapsed, giving wake to his life in reality.
Percival struggled to breathe, as he sat there on his bed, gasping for anything to calm down his system. He held his chest tight, as if his heart would rip out if he didn't. His vision slowly returned to normal and his breathing slowed, yet the fear inside of him lingered. Taking grasp of his emotions as if to tell him that they were no longer his to control.
He didn't know whether the night before had also been a part of the dream, but as he opened the lower drawer of the vine etched dresser, his eyes fixated on the piece of paper that held every thought which had crossed his mind the night previously.
Written on the bottom of the page, in blood red ink that seemed to interconnect between every line and word, "Hold your gaze towards the future in front of you".