Waking up to ash and dust.

A/N : I listen to Radioactive by Imagine Dragons waaaay too much ok. Padyn I blame you. Actually wrote that and only then thought of the song. Not that it's important.

Also a big thank you to kdmom for correcting grammar mistakes eheh !


Muffled sirens, are they that far away? He feels like his ears are covered with something. He wants to move his hands to feel them, but his body does not respond.

Again a siren, ear-splitting noise, as if all of a sudden he has recovered his heightened sense of hearing. Again his hands refuse to cover his ears to protect him from that awful sound.

His body is heavy, impossible for him to move.

Its cold,but he feels humidity on his clothes, on his face. And that smell, he can't quite identify it, but it's not pleasant to say the least.

Something rough is on his face, or more accurately his face is resting on some hard ground. Yes, that's it, he's lying on the ground.

Why ?

He starts to panic and finally his eyes open. But its still dark, and the smell, rank, metallic, humid.

Sewer. It smelled like sewer.

But there was something more.

He flips around and finds himself sitting on the street, alone.

He blinks several time.

Slowly his body starts to feel his again. Like a fluid going through his veins and giving him back his senses and some sort of control over his movements.

Around him everything is quite dark, it's late. At least that's how it seems.

Looking at his surroundings he tries to recognize where he is. But he can't remember ever seeing these buildings.

The alley is dark, narrow and deserted. Just a few dumpsters around and a cat, he ears a cat running away, but nothing else.

Why is he here and more importantly how did he get here ?

His sense of smells is back, back to it's full extend and he can finally identify that mysterious smell.

Blood.

That would also explain the sticky, wet sensation on his hands and clothes, but he doesn't want it to be true. It can't be.

Slowly he raises his hands on which he had been resting, just so he can look at them.

Blood.

That was indeed blood.

And not his, he would recognize the smell of his own blood, and he didn't feel hurt, apart from a headache.

Who's blood was it ?

When had that happened ?

He grabs his shirt and feels that there is more blood. There really is a lot of it. Whoever's blood it is ... That person is dead.

No.

This can't be true, this has to be a nightmare.

In one quick motion he gets up. Looking around in panic, searching for a body.

Nothing.

The street is empty, there is just him.

Just a killer.

A monster.

...

He looks back down at his hands full of blood and tries to remember.

What happened ? He closes his eyes to focus.

A sweet smell invades his nostrils, he remembers walking by a shop selling cookies. And ... Flowers, it smelled like flowers.

Catherine, he exhale opening his eyes again.

He was on his way to Catherine's apartment, to have dinner, for her birthday.

He sighs.

Nothing nice ever last for him.

What will he tell her ?

Sorry I didn't come for dinner I was killing someone ...

A siren again, maybe cops, he has to get away.

He gives a quick glance toward the ground where he woke up just moments ago, just to be sure he's not leaving anything behind, and then he runs.

As fast as he can.

Toward the warehouse.

Deep down he still hopes he is going to wake up in his bed and that all of this is just a nightmare.


A/N : Don't ask me why, I don't know myself. I just thought of that moment and felt like writing it. I haven't rewatched the scene before though, so I apologize if something doesn't seem right to you.

Hope you liked. Please leave a review !