"To him who is in fear everything rustles."
Sophocles

"I'm going now."

At the words he snapped his eyes open and rolled over, grasping at the fabric of the couch to avoid falling straight onto the carpet. He knew she could probably see from where she was standing in the doorframe the bags under his eyes, but he tried to look alert anyway, if not just for the sake of keeping up the charade that he was absolutely fine. He pouted as she crossed the room to wrap her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. "I'm going to miss you." He said, voice quiet and childish.

Marzia laughed, squeezing him once more before letting go, eyes light with excitement. "You'll be fine," She assured him, "Its only one week with the girls, Just don't burn the house down!"

"If I do will you come back sooner?"

"FELIX!"

He laughed, trailing behind her towards the door and the taxi waiting outside. "I won't, scouts honour."

She turned on her heel and shot him a sceptical look. "You never were a scout."

The swede grinned as she walked away, leaning on the open doorframe as he called out, "So you'll just have to trust me on this!"

The roller suitcase was safely tucked into the boot of the taxi and the Italian girl climbed in the backseat, did up her seatbelt and waved from behind the glass as it pulled away from the curb with a growl and drove off down the street.

He stood there in the cool morning air for a little longer, letting his breath condense into warm clouds in front of his parted lips as he stared into the fog shielding the hills on the horizon with a detached interest. He really was going to miss Marzia, it may have only been one week, but the house they shared would be so quiet without her laughing and fussing over the next few days. It got quiet if she even just went out to the supermarket, like the house itself was mourning her absence and waiting impatiently for her to come back with quiet creaks and groans. He patted the doorframe with a smile, stepping back inside off the cold concrete onto the worn carpet. "It's ok buddy. One week's all."

A bark caught his attention and he scoffed. "What? You've never seen a guy talk to a house before?"

The pug blinked up at him before scratching at his foot and huffing. A moment later she was in the air and pressed against his chest as he slumped back onto the couch with a sigh. "Yeah yeah." Maya looked faintly startled as her owner held her up, obviously not expecting this. "You're such a bossy lil thing huh?" he chuckled, bringing her back to his chest. The warm weight was soothing, as he let his hand drift idly through the soft fur, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest.

Last night he'd made a decision, and it wasn't going to be one he backed out of. Amnesia was just a game, and nightmares were just nightmares and god fucking damn it if he didn't get a good night's sleep soon he was going to cry. The only way to truly conquer fear is to face it, and as he eyed up his computer from where he sat he could almost taste the feeling of regretting this decision he would surely be faced with later. But the decision had been made, and he wasn't going to take the coward's way out this time.

"What do you think?" He questioned, looking down at the content looking animal. She made a funny grunting noise, but other than that didn't seem to have much too say on the matter.

Felix frowned, lips turning down in the corners and brows furrowing. "The longer you leave it the worse it's going to seem." He told himself, adopting a strict tone of voice in the hope it would spur him into action. And funnily enough it did.

Placing the now indignant pug on the floor he crossed over and powered up his computer, watching blankly as the black boot-up screen appeared. His swallowed, and quickly decided he needed a glass of water if his throat and mouth were actually that dry.

The water was cool and refreshing as he tipped it back in time to hear the booming jingle to let him know the computer was ready to use. He jumped at the sound and mentally berated himself as water splashed up onto his nose, dripping off it annoyingly. Rubbing his arm across his nose he walked back to the gaming station he had set up and sat down.

Inhale, exhale. The key to staying calm was in breathing, or at least that's what the people online had said. "Okay." He breathed, dragging the word out as he started riffling through his document folders looking for the game. "It's okay, this is good. Mostly there." His knee was jiggling up and down so he forced his heel down into the floor, happy enough to keep on rambling. "Just a little bit more. You don't have to play much, just a little." Clicking through the icons he located the download, and inhaling deeply he held it and double clicked on the icon. The screen was over taken by the usual back start up screen and the You-Tuber realized he wasn't wearing his headphones as he fumbled with them and eventually managed to secure them over his ears. "Right. Good, this is great, we're doing well here."

He could briefly hear Maya whine behind him before the roaring of the game sound picked up drowned her out. He wondered briefly if she was maybe hungry, but then remembered filling up her bowl with biscuits and just decided to shrug it off as the menu lit up his screen. The droning muted tones started to filter through, and his leg started moving up and down again of its own accord. He flexed his fingers and settled them back on the mouse with a deliberate exhale and clicked into the custom stories he had downloaded. There were a fair number lined up, mostly from before the nightmares started and when he had been eager to play most of them. Now he bit his lip and scrolled quickly though them, ignoring any titles that struck out in his memory as being called 'horrifying' or 'absurdly scary.'

Eventually, after cycling though the names a few times he settled on what he recalled was supposed to be a rather short custom story that wasn't absolutely drenched in jump-scares. It was entitled 'Hapsburg Manor' and was apparently made by some person with a ridiculously complex online profile. The summary was pretty brief as well, and it seemed like it was basically the same as most linear amnesia games with the general idea being 'you wake up with no memory, blah blah blah, escape the castle/manor/mansion/dungeon etcetera.'

He was starting to feel a bit lightheaded, now regretting not bringing a glass of water with him. It was like there wasn't enough oxygen in the air, and his heart was already thrumming away inside his chest at a rate that was far faster than usual.

And then, believe it or not, was when things started to go downhill.

He set out to start the game, screen fading into blackness as it prepared to load. The air got thinner. He could have sworn it had anyway, as he gasped in as much of it as he could, but it still wasn't enough. His skin was getting uncomfortably hot and his fingers started to tremble from where they were resting on the keyboard. Dizzyness swept in and he lurched off the chair with the sudden urge to vomit, hitting the floor hard as his headphones were knocked off and clattered noisily onto the ground. He retched twice, nothing coming up before he collapsed as his whole arm was knocked away into a fit. His skin was on fire, and his ears were being increasingly assaulted by a high pitched shriek that got louder and louder and louder. He couldn't breathe, leg starting to fit as well, dots swimming in his vision. Maya was barking, and he was screaming, or was he? All he could feel was his horrible exploding pain echoing from his skull and this terrible numbness infiltrating the rest of his body. His chest was heaving and his stomach was churning and his body was going up in flames. The noise got ever louder, now loud enough to deafen and his head was being beaten in with a lead brick.

'I'm dying aren't I?' was the last though he had before blackness swept over his vision and left him slumped against the floor.

The computer hummed away quietly, the character on the screen breathing heavily and standing ready in a bedroom, waiting input that wasn't going to come anytime soon.

It came as a shock, one minute he was mixing chemicals and the next he was on the floor, clutching his skull and doubling over in pain. He sank his teeth deep into his bottom lip, hands knotting in his hair as a piercing ringing sound smashed into his head.

Slowly the noise faded, and the ringing pain was replaced with sharp twinges of pain and a burning metallic taste in his mouth.

"What the fuck was that!"

He leant over and spat onto the floor, blood and saliva mingling against the stones and he grimaced, running his tongue over the deep bloody grooves his teeth had gouged into his lip. "You say that like you think I know."

Another man was slowly standing from where he had been sent sprawling when the ground had suddenly and without warning lurched sideways. As he brushed his clothes down he shrugged and smirked. "Good point, seeing as you never seem to know anything of actual use."

He felt himself bristling. "Didn't anyone ever tell you-"

"If you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything at all?"

He smiled a thin, bloody teeth baring grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Don't piss off the guy who could burn you alive in your sleep."

The other paused, midway through putting his chair back up and turned to give him a cocky look. "You're bluffing."

Rising gracefully from the floor he swiped a clean test-tube off the shelf and tossed it between his hands. "Really? Because you seem awful ready to take that risk."

He sat back down into his chair, and propped his feet up on the worn and bloodied table, staring his down from across the room. "I'm an asset, why would you kill me?"

"Liability is the word you are looking for; you're unpredictable and change sides at the drop of a hat. No sense of loyalty or common decency – you carve up bodies for fucks sake." He grasped his broken lip in one hand and hissing started to squeeze it over the test tube, collecting the blood that dripped from the gashes.

He laughed, tossing his head back and rocking his chair onto its hind legs. "Not that kind of asset."

Pausing in his blood collecting he shot the reclining man a dirty look witch only made him laugh again.

"What can I say, I'm practically a whore and you're a charismatic bastard with a power complex. There's no shame in that, we're all friends here right?" His eyes were half lidded as he lent against the table top, fingers tracing deep grooves in the wood.

Grunting he released his lip and studied the blood in the vial closely. "The very best of friends." He stated sarcastically.

His blood was clinging to the glass on the sides of the tube, the colour a vibrant and extravagant red. The next question was whether or not to ice it or to let it coagulate. Letting it clot would be easier considering he couldn't be bothered trekking down to the water mains, and eventually he just placed it into a test-tube holder on the bench. Turning back to face his friend he let his brows furrow together. "What if it's him?"

One eyebrow crept up his face incredulously. "Then he just got better at throwing shit and our projections are fucking up."

"No! Not like that!" A broad grin was starting to show its self on his face, his fingers gripping the bench tightly as his eyes started to get ever darker. "What if it happened again? You've been hearing what's been getting everyone so worked up! Imagine!"

He rolled his eyes, again rocking the chair back onto its hind legs. "Sorry, my imagination is lacking. Imagine what exactly?"

He laughed, a bitter, dark laugh. "Imagine the looks on their faces if he died.