Pete's POV

My head is hurting like hell after all that mind-talking stuff with Patrick, but it was totally worth it. The sound of his voice in my mind was like coming home after a long time of being away. It was like finally being at ease again.

I close my eyes and imagine him. He is probably sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. He always prefered to sit on the ground instead of a chair. I imagine his smile brightening his face as his eyes close and he leans his head back.

I'm tired but I don't want to let go of this, this moment of complete happiness. I realize it's been a while since I've felt happy. Since there is no sign of that darkness that is usually in my chest, surrounding my heart and filling my brain with thoughts that destroy me.

I sit down on my huge, kingsize bed and roll over on my side. My eyelids are starting to feel heavy and I know that it won't be long until I fall asleep. I try to fight the waves of weariness that come crashing down on me but the bed is so soft... and that feeling inside my heart is so warm and everything is nice and...

The room is dark and I can't see anything. I can sense that there is someone in there but I don't know who it is... or what it is. I step over the doorstep and a feeling of uneasiness takes hold of me. The feeling of being watched.

I turn around and the hairs on the back of my neck are standing straight up. The urge to run away and leave this place behind me is so strong that I can barely control it, but I manage to keep standing. I know why I came here, and I know that I won't leave without succeeding.

I keep walking and even though my legs are shaking horrendously bad, I keep going. At the end of the room I see a crack in the wooden planks blocking off the windows, allowing a small ray of moonlight to light up the place.

In that ray of moonlight, I see a silhouette. The figure is standing with their back towards me, preventing me from seeing their face.

"Patrick?", I whisper, and as soon as the words leave my lips, I know that this isn't Patrick. This is something way worse than Patrick, worse than anything I could ever imagine.

Despite my heart fluttering in my chest like a trapped bird rattling in a cage, I step forward.

"Patrick?", I ask again, and every time I say his name, the feeling that this is something way more horrifying gets stronger.

Finally, after what feels like a century of being alone with only my beating heart and weak knees, the silhouette turns around.

At that moment I realise that I should have noticed way sooner that this wasn't Patrick. This figure is taller, his limbs thinner, more elegant.

As he turns around to face me, his movement is almost graceful and I notice that his skin is pale, like ice. He is standing exactly in that small ray of moonlight, but it's like he is blending in. Like he is becoming the moonlight instead of blocking it.

His fingers are thin and long, without scars on it, but as I see them I know that those hands have had more blood on them than I will ever have in my entire life.

Then my gaze moves up to his face. He is approximately half a foot taller than me so I have to look up to look him in the eye.

His face is delicately formed, with sharp cheekbones and an even sharper jawline. All of his features are angular, but soft at the same time which gives him a misplaced impression of innocence.

His eyes seem to switch colour. At one moment I think they're green, but as soon as he blinks, I am almost sure they're blue. They are cold, without any love inside of them. Or maybe there was once love in them, he has just lost it.

They pierce right through me, making me shrink under his stare. His thin lips form themselves into a smile, an unusual expression in that emotionless face, giving his face a weird sort of charismatic glow.

He is wearing some kind of suit, covered by a long coat, which almost touches the ground. If I didn't know better, I would've thought he was going to some classy party. His hair reaches his shoulders and is as black as his coat, surrounding his face with shadows.

"Oh, you would have wished you never came here in the first place when you see your little boyfriend", he says, in a tone that is sending shivers down my spine.

He has a British accent and if it wasn't in this situation, I would've loved to listen to him speak. It has an anarchic impact and I am sure that everyone he speaks to, will obey him or will die before being able to disobey.

"What- what do you mean?", I ask and I sound ridiculously meaningless next to his charismatic voice. "What have you done to him?"

"Why don't you see it yourself?", he grins and takes a step to the side, without making any noise. The corner on the far right side of the room is free now and if I look until my eyes hurt, I see someone is standing there.

The person takes a step forward so I can see him. As he walks into the light my heart leaps, because it's my Patrick. Except it's not...

His eyes have turned a shade of green-ish yellow, like a cat. They are reflecting every light that reaches them and are glazed over with a blue glow, making them emotionless and giving the impression that Patrick has dead holes in his face instead of actual eyes.

Patrick takes a threatening step forward, his eyebrows curving into a frown. He turns his head towards the man leaning against the wall, whose presence I had almost forgotten.

"Master?", he asks, looking up to him with his eyes whidening in an almost child-like expression.

"Not yet", the man answers with a sly smile, apparently understanding what Patrick meant. I sure didn't, but I felt a ball of rage growing in my stomach along with the need to punch that person in the face.

"What have you done to him?", I scream, but I know it's useless. This man will let me scream until my lungs collapse and it will not change anything. At this moment though, my brain becomes numb and the only thing I want is to hurt that person, to hurt him as bad as he is hurting me now.

"He is the perfect subject", the man just says. "He is the first, and many will follow until no one can stop them. Soon, everything you know will be mine..."

I run towards him, ready to attack but he just freezes. I should be thinking how suspicious it is that he is standing motionless instead of trying to defend himself, but it is too late.

I fall right through him, crashing against the wall, and I turn just fast enough to see his appearance fade, like a ghost, before my vision gets blurry for a moment.

I hear a laugh close to my ear, what scares me so much that I try to run away but fall, crashing against the wall again. As I look up I see some kind of scepter being pushed against my throat.

"Isn't this your worst nightmare?", the man asks, holding the scepter. "Seeing your dear friend being led towards a horrible destiny, and not being able to save him?".

I nod, horrified by how heartless a person can be. The man bows down to me so his face is directly across from mine.

"Then wake up..."

A/N: Oh my godddd this is like the biggest cliffhanger ever. Sorry for not updating for so long but I had lost all of my motivation to continue until now, when I got this idea. Please tell me if you like it :)

~Panda