Chapter 42

Who Needs Love Like That

Normally, the bright light that flooded through the large picture window was welcomed and made the small apartment inviting, but not today as Beetlejuice grunted, turning in the chair in a futile attempt to fall back asleep. Not only was the light offensive, but it was also then that an ill-timed sound assaulted his ears. The young child next door began to happily yell while running around but to BJ, it sounded as if a baby elephant was released and that was enough to fully irritate him. Without sitting up, he snapped his fingers, and instantaneously a loud thud was quickly followed by the wail from the neighboring toddler.

Even still, his foul mood would not abate and there was little patience left for shit like that. It was far too early, and he was still tired. In fact, last night, because of his exhaustion he didn't even realize that he had fallen asleep in the armchair out in the living room.

Finally opening his eyes, he let out a big yawn. Smacking his lips, he turned his gaze to the bedroom door and longed for some proper sleep.

In a flash he was now comfortably under the covers and the quietness was welcomed like an old friend. Fortunately, their apartment was at the very end of the complex and their bedroom was blissfully free from noisy neighbors. Well, except for the occasional fuss from downstairs but thankfully, that was a rare event.

Now, this was better. The silence was what he needed after all of the commotion from the previous days.

Pulling the blanket up further, he eased into its solace, but the smell of her perfume lifted from the sheets and filled his nose. The olfactory trigger brought forth memories and it wasn't welcomed in his headspace. No, he just wanted to sleep and didn't want to think about her.

Clenching his eyes to stay shut, he rebuked those infectious thoughts, but it was already too late. Taking root, they began to spread like a weed as his eyes opened with a sigh.

"Two days… It's already been two fucking days with no sign or word from her. What is she trying to prove?" He bemoaned to the ceiling.

Shaking his head with a growl, he resolved that he was going to get more sleep. He was certainly not in the mood to get riled up again.

"Lyds has never stayed away long and if she isn't back by tomorrow, well, I'll just have to get a little more creative to get her attention. The kid-gloves are comin' off and I have a few more things up my sleeve that she or the world can't ignore." He chuckled to himself as visions of gore filled him with glee.

Relaxing into the comfort of that thought, he allowed another loud yawn to escape him. Now satisfied, he knew that sleep was not long for him.

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"Lydia."

Lydia opened her heavy eyes and squinted at the blurry figure that was calling her name.

"Hmm?" Was all that she could reply as she sat up.

"Oh, uh, please cover up."

"Hmm?" Turning her hazy attention towards the sound, her drowsy eyes now saw it was Allen, clad in his work clothes, sitting but facing away on the bed.

While she complied with his request, she was much too tired to be embarrassed.

"You're home… How long did I sleep?" She rubbed her eyes while her mind was playing catch up. "Is it after 5pm already?"

"No, it's my lunch hour. I came home to check on you and I have something to ask. All morning I've been thinking a few things over and I would like it if you would come back to the hospital with me." He turned back to her carefully, but he was thankful to see that she had covered up.

"Why?" Confused, she leaned forward while struggling to keep her eyes open.

"I'd like to check on your health and also, I want to get an X-ray of your arm." He explained and lifted her hand to get a better view of the damage. The welt was still there but the bruise had new colors that had formed overnight.

"Mmm, ok." She mumbled, gently pulling her arm back under the covers as she laid back in the bed. This bed was so comfortable, and she practically felt sleep begging for her to return. Flipping to face the other way, she snuggled into the poofy pillow.

"Uh, we would have to leave soon." Allen watched, hoping that she would quickly follow through.

In reply, she readjusted to get cozier, while some of her hair displaced and exposed her back. With a small sigh, he closed his eyes after he saw how her pale skin was mottled with bruises of varying sizes.

The bed jostled before she heard the door close which prompted her stubborn eyes to open. Lifting her head to the door she realized that he probably left so she could have privacy when she got up. With a groan, she hefted upright and stared to the borrowed clothes that were scattered upon the floor.

Reaching down, she looked at her arm with disgust. Sure, it had been hurting but she could deal with it. She had managed worse.

Shaking her head, she pulled the sweatpants up over her naked form. If it was bothering him enough that he had left work, then she'd indulge him, but she wasn't going to be chipper about it.

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Quietly stepping into the living room wearing the same gray sweatshirt and sweatpants from yesterday, she discovered that he was on the couch. Looking at his watch, his leg bounced in place but stopped when she cleared her throat.

"You know, I don't have shoes." She walked purposefully over to him, lifted her foot, and wiggled her toes to emphasize the point.

Without saying anything, he stood and briskly walked into the hallway before stopping to face the right side of the wall. To her surprise, it was then that he quickly opened a cupboard door that was flush to the wall. The long line of wooden cupboards were camouflaged to look like wainscotting, and she would have never guessed that they would have been there.

It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for before he had rushed back to her side.

"I know it's not ideal, but they'll work for now." He explained while holding out a pair of slippers to her.

"Better than nothing." She shrugged and slid them on, happy that they fit.

"They're guest slippers but they've never been used." He reassured her while once again looking at his watch. His actions contradicted his tone, reminding her that he was probably pressed for time.

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The drive to the hospital was relatively short and as soon as they entered Allen was quick to escort her down to radiology. Sitting down in the waiting room, Lydia was gifted a quick smile before he turned back, spoke in a hushed tone, and handed a folder to the person behind the check-in desk. Before she could settle, he was back and began to explain the plan.

"I put a priority on your file, so you should be taken care of soon. Don't worry, this shouldn't hurt. They'll be taking some X-rays for me, and then when they're done you'll be brought back. Afterwards, if you don't mind, please wait here. I have a few things that I must do but I'll be right back. Ok?" Although his voice was hurried he managed to keep a calm demeanor.

As soon as she nodded in affirmation, he dashed away through some doors to who knows where.

Taking in the small waiting area, she was thankful that there were no other patients to be seen. She really hated waiting rooms; it was a suffocating limbo, filled with furtive but judgmental glances, and even the small internal competition to be called on first.

Her eyes unfocused from the decorative quilt that hung on the beige sterile wall. No amount of "homey" décor could remove the discomfort of any clinical space.

Leaning on one elbow, she let out a sigh but before she could finish it, a nurse greeted her by her name. Simple pleasantries filled the air as she was guided down a bend and into a darkened, warm, and soundproof room. Computers quietly whirred from the open doorway of a tiny inner room with a large window. Before her, in the center, was a table and above that was a large armature which she assumed was the x-ray machine.

The whole process was painless and yet more expedient than Lydia thought it would be and before she knew it, she was once again planted back in the waiting room. Her eyes sought for Allen, but he was nowhere to be found. Looking to the woman behind the desk, Lydia's silent question was answered.

"Sorry, Dr. Dichter hasn't returned. Would you like some water?"

Quickly shaking her head, Lydia leaned into the back of the chair. Her ears stayed keen for any familiarity, but it was met with the various pages from the intercom, a reception phone ringing, and an indiscernible conversation from somewhere unseen.

Looking for something to keep her interest she found the place barren of anything that spoke to her. Sure, the room was rife with outdated fishing, sport, and parenting themed magazines; many were discarded upon chairs or in messy piles upon the side tables, but none of that resonated with her.

A tiny groan of discontent escaped as she wished that she had her phone. If she had that, she could've gone online or something.

For now, she'd try to relax. Yeah, try to relax. Shaking her head out of the thought, she rolled her eyes. Her brain was starting to sound more and more like her dad as time went on.

With a deep breath, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

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Once again, it was Allen's voice that woke her, and she blinked as she came to terms with where she was. His face, level with hers, surprised and then amused her.

"When did you start wearing glasses?" She said in an amused tone as she noted the black square framed spectacles that remarkably suited him.

"Please, follow me." Adjusting his glasses, he stood up from kneeling and began to walk to the doors he had gone through earlier.

Was he embarrassed? A twinge of guilt from the teasing quieted her as she stood to follow.

After going through the maze of halls, junctions, and a couple elevators, they entered a small room. Stepping through the door, she realized that it was a tiny, windowless, and bare office. She noted the lack of décor except for the basic necessities on the desk that abutted the wall. Although it was neat and immaculate, there were no photos, or anything intimate that would express that this room was extensively used by one person. If this was his office, it appeared that even in his professional personal space, he was detached from the "normal" and sentimental realm.

Sitting at his computer, it whirred to life as he typed a few things in before intently reading something that was brought up on the screen. To his right was a Manila folder and, without looking, he slid it over and opened it up. It was then that he finally pulled his eyes from the screen and began to read through that. Satisfied, he spun on his wheeled-cushioned stool to look at her as she stood by the doorway.

A nervous giggle erupted from her as he silently eyed her up. She wanted to break the tension...although she was sure the tension was only on her end.

"So, uh, is this your office or just one that was open?" Rubbing her arm, she looked around at the room and tried to find something to focus on.

"Yes, it's been my office since I transferred to Providence. You don't have to stand there. Please, sit down." He motioned to the basic but uncomfortable appearing chair by the desk before looking at the screen once more.

Quickly taking a seat, she continued to observe the various medical books and equipment that was in the room. To occupy her brain, she challenged herself to figure out what every apparatus and tool was for but in the end she was baffled by most of it. It wasn't until she heard him turn in her direction again did she finally force herself to meet his gaze.

"Would you be willing to let me give you a physical? If so, I would need you to strip down and put on a hospital gown." He explained sitting up while folding his arms. "Now, if you're at all uncomfortable with this, you are not obligated to do anything. If it's because of me, I can have a female nurse do it instead, but she might go over my head and report anything that she may find suspicious. As your friend, I'm giving you a fair warning and remember, you don't have to do this. I do not want to sway your choice one way or the other."

He watched for her reaction and she wasn't sure what to think. Leaning forward, she hugged herself and weighed the options.

"Uh, I'd be fine if it was you but why do you want one?" The light in this room seemed cold. In fact, everything, except them, felt cold in this tiny space.

"You've been through a lot. Your body has suffered trauma and I would like to know to what extent. I need to know how I can properly help you. I'm not trying to pressure you and I can take you back to my place right now if that's what you wish." He spoke gently, but she instinctively cradled her arm closer to her body, when she remembered the cause. She let out a miserable sigh but soon felt a hand give a light rub on her upper arm. Looking up with her sad eyes, Allen's face softened with a smile and that helped ease the tension and nerves in her belly.

"No, it's ok. We can do this instead." She gave a small smile back and worried about what he might say if he found anything else. The other bruises were easy for her to hide under her clothes but now…

A drawer being opened interrupted her thoughts before he handed her a robe and stood up.

"Thank you. Please, tie it in the back. I'll be back soon and knock to see if you're ready."

After he quickly left and gently shut the door, she felt hollow as she stared at the thin, ugly polka-dot print, cotton robe in her lap. She really didn't want to do this, but she also knew that it was something she really should do.

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Time passed while she waited for his return. Long ago, she had draped her clothes over her legs and shoulders so she could attempt to keep warm. While it helped little to insulate from the chill, it was still better than nothing. A small soft knock echoed within the room and she promptly answered it.

Stepping in, Allen soberly sat down in his chair, all the while rubbing his forehead.

"I'm sorry. I was called away for something but don't worry, I'm free now and there won't be any disruptions. I'm really sorry that you had to wait for so long."

Frantically moving her hands back and forth in front of her, she tittered as her body vibrated from nerves. "No, no, it's ok! Your job, it comes first."

Removing his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No, right now, you are what comes first." He said firmly. Restoring his glasses back on his face, he finally looked at her with resolved eyes.

Unsure of what to say to that, she distracted herself for the moment by removing the still blanketed clothes and began to fold them neatly in her lap.

He moved his rolling stool to the middle of the room and stood up.

"If you're still fine with this, please sit here." He gestured.

Conscientiously she sat upon the proffered seat and waited for what came next. Setting her resolve, she closed her eyes while resigning herself to be completely exposed and not just in the literal sense. Exhaling, she stared forward, as he caringly undid the ties on her gown before he began the examination. With each purposeful touch, he felt along her back and occasionally stopped to push on certain areas. His chilly fingers gave her goosebumps causing a shiver to run along her spine. Although he gave a small apology, she had barely heard it as she focused on her breathing. Whenever he would hit a tender spot, she attempted to hide the pain, but it was clear that he noticed her reaction.

"What was the cause of all of this?" He questioned stoically, pressing into another sore area by her hip, which forced an unwanted hiss to escape through her teeth.

"He, uh, pushed me against a wall." Although embarrassed by saying it out loud, she was filled with shame that this was all her fault. After all, she had provoked BJ and it wouldn't have happened if she didn't.

Allen stopped while lifting his stethoscope off his shoulders. Tucking the bell-shaped diaphragm under his arm, he let it rest there until he was satisfied that it was no longer cold. Finally putting the earpieces in, he placed the stethoscope upon her back and listened.

"That doesn't look like it was just a push. Please take a deep breath." His voice rang firmly causing Lydia to feel like she was with a stranger.

Lowering her head shamefully, she inhaled and exhaled when instructed. Her brain fought with what she was to say. Why should she lie? What's the point? It wasn't going to help her, and it wouldn't help anyone else… besides, why was she protecting him.

"I don't know how to explain it. Beej pushed me against the wall with a lot of force. He is incredibly strong but it only, uh, happened a couple times."

After Allen finished his examination, he had her return to her seat, but she couldn't help but feel that he was a different person right now. She pondered why it could be, but she could only imagine that this must have been his doctor persona and not "him". While she understood, she was hoping that more of "him" would have come through. The examination was impersonal, and she craved for any warmth or familiarity from him. Maybe it was instinctual in this environment… sort of a Pavlovian reaction, in a way? Then again, perhaps he had felt it would have been unprofessional to treat me otherwise?

Rolling closer to her, Allen held the file in his hands before pulling something out of it. Recognizing that it was an x-ray, apparently hers, she paid close attention when he lifted it up so the ceiling light could illuminate through it.

"It's hard to see but if you look here..." He traced an area on the X-ray with his closed pen, but she didn't know what she was supposed to be looking for.

"You see this small line? This indicates that you have an Ulna distal hairline fracture. There were no other signs of fractures in the radius. Luckily, it doesn't seem to have affected your scaphoid or the lunate bones. Likewise, there seems to be no damage to the superior or inferior radioulnar joint." As he explained, he was busy circling different spots upon it until he finally lowered the X-ray to turn her way.

"So, uh, what does that mean?" She asked with a meek smile. "Is it broken?"

Lifting up her arm, he exposed the wound and without touching it, he began to gesture to a singular spot with his pen.

"In layman's terms; your arm isn't broken, and you are still able to have a range of motion. What you do have is a fracture under this welt here that is comparable to a small crack in cement. Although it's not severe enough to warrant a cast, I highly recommend that you not use it too much; otherwise, you are risking it to become a closed stress fracture. In that state, you could cause it to fully break and that's when things get invasive, more painful, and your healing time would take much longer. Again, much like a fissure in cement, if you put stress on it, in time it will cause it to continue to split until, eventually, it will break the hard cement apart."

Gawping at the large bruise, she found it was hard to imagine how painful that would be. This hurt enough on its own and she really didn't want that to happen or have surgery to fix it.

"I have some over the counter pain killers at home but if they don't work, I will see about writing you a prescription. Now, it might get a little sticky for me since I know you personally, but I'll certainly try if the pain is unbearable. Please keep me informed of any changes that may happen. I want to avoid further injury. You've been through enough pain."

Scooting back to his desk, he returned the X-ray into its file, before he began to write on the paper before him. Abruptly stopping, he set his pen upon the desk, and turned back to her with a face full of concern.

"Please answer me honestly. I'm not inferring that you'll lie to me, but I will need to ask you a few uncomfortable questions."

A lump formed in the back of her throat as anxiety began to swell within her.

"Lydia don't worry, this is completely confidential and whatever you share will be between only us. It will not be put on record." He moved forward slightly while still giving her personal space.

"What, what is it?" She swallowed as the words finally came forth, but they were noticeably quiet. A whisper of relief filled within at his softened tone, but the peaceful moment didn't last long.

Taking off and folding his glasses, he settled them into his shirt pocket, and leaned forward to meet her eyes before he curtly began to question her.

"Has he ever hurt you like this before?"

The bluntness caught her off guard and there was something in his expression that she couldn't read but she replied right away.

"No, not like this. This was the first time that he's hurt me this badly."

"Alright. Not counting this time; how often would you say that your arguments get physical? Most of the time? Sometimes? Rarely? Or not at all?"

Lydia thought on it. It wasn't something that typically crossed her mind.

"Uh, you see, BJ and I have little fights all the time. So, it's hard to predict when he'd get angry enough to lash out. I guess my answer is "sometimes". I mean, when he would, it was just pushing or trying to hold me still so I wouldn't leave the room. Nothing too violent. I'm guilty of that too so it's not like it is a big deal."

Allen listened but when she was done he didn't miss a beat and continued.

"How often did he physically hurt you outside of arguments?"

"Uh, again… Sometimes… Sometimes when we weren't playing or arguing… he'd punish me if I did something he didn't like. Please I'd rather not say what he did but I'm sure I deserved it."

"Has he ever coerced, threatened, or forced you into doing something that you didn't want to do sexually?"

She had to look away when she heard him ask that question. Her face burned as she entwined her fingers.

"No." She answered but then paused with the realization that it wasn't exactly true. It was hard to hear but it was going to be harder to say.

"Actually… Um, s, s, sometimes. But, but the worst of it was so long ago. You know… like when I was still with you." She trailed off before realizing the implications. "Not because of you, but it happened when I had to do things with him. Other than that, it would only happen occasionally. Uh, nothing bad, because I was married to him and things like that are just a given. I mean, just silly things like when I didn't want sex and he did, he would eventually get his way. Or when I was sleeping, I'd wake up with him…" She didn't want to continue as she hid behind the black curtain of her hair.

When she heard him sigh, she risked a peek and found him leaning back, staring at the ceiling, but he straightened up when he caught her.

"Is there anything else that you feel I should know? Is there anything that I can do to help you?" He asked, seemingly pleading to her with his eyes.

Shaking her head, she was at a loss of what she could say.

"Alright. If you happen to think of anything, please tell me." Setting his hands in his lap, he gave her a half smile.

Still unsure of what to say, she suddenly felt overwhelmed, like the air in the room shifted and began to get sucked out.

Noticing how she fidgeted with her clothes, he quickly flashed her a large happy and warm smile. Even though she knew it wasn't real, it did surprisingly make her feel better.

"Ok, let's change those bandages and then we will be done. I'm sure that you're excited to get back to the apartment and not be here." He happily joked.

With expert precision, he was quick to change, clean, and dress her wounded knees. When he was done, he stood up and walked to the door.

"Thank you for allowing me this and helping me out. I'll let you get dressed and then I'll take you home right away."

She was filled with compassion for all that he had done, and it wasn't until he was about to open the door did she realize that she needed to say something.

"Allen, wait! I should be the one thanking you."

Rushing to stand, she had to let him know how grateful she was. Unexpectedly, the room began to swirl with colors, and she couldn't hear anything except for a crackling within her ears. It vaguely reminded her of the beautiful rainbowed water that swirled on an oil slicked puddle. She watched in slow-motion as the world turned sideways before her eyes closed on their own.

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Fading out of the darkness, Lydia slowly became aware of two arms that were wrapped around and holding her very tightly. Still, it was mostly the cold floor against her bare skin, that kept her attention as she began to shiver uncontrollably. It was a glaring contrast to the wonderful warmth that surrounded her, and she wanted to crawl into its comfort. The coldness filled her through and through, prompting her consciousness forward to figure out what the hell just happened.

Her body wouldn't listen to any commands, except for her eyes which drowsily opened to inspect her situation. With extra effort, she managed to lift her head in a drunk and exaggerated manner. There, to either side of her own, were some long but clothed extra legs. Nothing made sense as she stared at what she was seeing. Her brain felt addled with helium and forming a cohesive thought was an acrobatic feat. It took a little over a minute before she was able to force her body, as best that she could, to see what the phantom legs were attached to.

A bibulous smile formed when she found that they belonged to Allen, who was asleep leaning back against the wall. So, it was his arms wrapped around her but why? What happened?

Her limp arms hung like wet spaghetti, but she was beginning to feel sensation flow into her fingers. The cold floor was a welcome feeling as the thrill of being in control of her body was a simple but exciting thought.

Finally, a strength grew and her muscles sluggishly awoken when she managed to pry his arms from around her. It was difficult, like they were glued on, but she was finally free as she crawled back to sit by his feet. There, on the chair to his left, were her neatly folded clothes. Too cold to care about the how's and why's, she stripped out of the horrid robe and sloppily attempted to change on the tile, flopping about like a fish out of water.

Panting on the floor, now dressed, she hefted and dragged back over to Allen's side.

"Allen?" She gently patted his face and waited for him to respond.

His eyes fluttered as he groaned before he woke. He too was in some sort of stupor as he looked around before wordlessly and unsteadily standing up. Getting his bearings, he gently lifted her to her feet and aided her into the seat by the desk before he sat down in his own.

Resting on one arm, he appeared disoriented as he watched her stare back. Slowly sobering up, he began to weigh several different thoughts as he tapped his pen on the desk. Still, his eyes didn't leave hers, and she couldn't make herself look away.

Abruptly, the tapping stopped and in unison they both sat upright.

"Lydia, I think it's starting." Concern painted his face as he set down his pen.

Shaking her head, she turned away as she was swarmed with embarrassment.

"Oh, no, no, no. It couldn't be. I forgot to tell you that sometimes that happens when I haven't eaten. I know, I know, it's a bad habit. It just sort of formed after we broke up. I'm sure you're going to lecture me on proper nutrition, and I don't blame you…"

"You start to glow, spark, and then pass out when you haven't eaten?" He asked incredulously.

"What?!" Spinning in his direction she couldn't believe it.

"Yes. That's what happened. I ran to catch you but that's all that I can remember." He rubbed the large, throbbing lump on the back of his head but stopped before she grew concerned or, worse yet, began to blame herself for it.

"I'm taking you home immediately. Sit here and don't get up. I will be right back." He exclaimed as he dashed out the door .

Lydia heeded his words, but it was mostly because she wasn't sure that she could possibly stand on her own. There was no way she'd risk falling again. Lifting her hands, she stared at them. They weren't glowing or sparking now. In fact, she didn't feel any different than before. Maybe he was wrong. Was it really happening?

The door opened and interrupted her thoughts as Allen rushed a wheelchair into the room and quickly shut the door behind him.

"Don't stand. Let me help you."

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A loud thumping abruptly woke Beetlejuice from his slumber. With a growl, his eyes snapped open.

"Damn neighbors!" he grumbled, "How the hell am I supposed to get any rest with that fuckin' noise? Wait..."

Sitting up, he knew something wasn't right. The room itself wasn't the source of it and everything was the same as it ever was. Not a peep came from below the apartment nor outside of it. Still the sound continued until something dawned upon him; the sound came from within him and it was reminiscent of a heartbeat, that's if a heartbeat was amplified by a large bass. Obviously, it wasn't his heartbeat! It had to be coming from somewhere else, but where?

Clumsily he threw the covers off and slid out of the bed, but when he did his head began to spin. Too dizzy to stand, he gripped the blankets to keep his balance as he sat back down on top of the comforter.

With an impending need to find the source of the problem, he examined his surroundings with a suspicious eye. There was nothing to be seen except for when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror from across the room. There, in its reflection, he noticed a faint glow emanating from his body. Although it was weak, he couldn't miss the out of place oddity.

Lifting his hand, he stared at the dull energy that fluidly flowed and swirled around it. It wafted up like campfire smoke and dissipated into the nothingness.

A cold air crept into the room, causing him to shiver as he was still just in his boxers. With a quick snap of his fingers, instead of the intended conjuration of clothes, a bright spark jumped and fizzled out from the motion.

Perplexed, he curiously stared at his hand before he snapped it again and got the same result. With a guttural growl, he repeated it until it finally worked, and he was now in his familiar striped suit.

"What the hell is going on here?" He muttered as his anger began to germinate.

Looking around the room, he felt out with his aura for any external force, but he found none. With the dizziness abating, he stood up and stretched out any stagnant energy before shaking it off.

Now in front of the full body mirror, he held its frame and examined his reflection carefully while keeping his guard up in cased of any surprise attack. Currently, nothing felt off, and the glow was now gone, yet what had happened was nothing to shirk away. He knew better than that and no detail was to be ignored.

Squinting his eyes, he inhaled while glaring at his dark visage.

"This feels familiar... way too familiar… like when I met that bitchy witch but there's no way it's her. She's been long dead, so what could this be? Hmmm. I might have to go pay ol' Junebug a visit and get some answers." He ominously rumbled as he cracked his knuckles.

With a loud boom, a bright white light blinded his vision before he felt an odd pull. As the gray returned from behind his eyelids, he vaguely registered the soft mattress now underneath him. A hushed static filled his brain before it blipped out like and old tv being shut off.