A/N: These one-shots are designed to stand alone instead of "piggybacking" off of the one-shots in "Once Upon Another Life," but Vic's story makes reference to his deceased wife, which was the focus of his chapter in "Once Upon Another Life." You can still read this one without reading that one, but if you're interested in reading that chapter first, it's chapter two.
::~*~::
Vic closed the door behind him and stared suspiciously around the gloomy room, as though waiting for something to leap out of the darkness and cut him down where he stood. When nothing appeared, he exhaled audibly, as though the weight of some unseen burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He was too frightened to confess a most horrible truth to any of the others. He had brushed it off upon first entering the house, but the more investigating they had done and the further into the farthest recesses of the house they had traveled, the more glaring the realization was for him.
He had the gift of precognition. He had the ability to see the future though usually only a few minutes into it. Yet, ever since they had stepped inside the house, Vic had been unable to foresee anything. Truly anything. It was as though the house had veiled his gift so that he was unable to see anything. The very thought of a sentient house, especially one with such a bloody history, terrified him almost more than he could bear. At least with people, you could observe how they acted and make assumptions on future behavior through those actions, but a house? It was a completely different playing field where Vic couldn't even begin to guess the rules of the game.
He loosened the top two buttons of his shirt, the feeling of claustrophobia threatening to choke him. Despite the roominess of the bedchamber, he felt as though the walls were closing in about him. He had taken one of his heart medication pills only an hour before, but the desire for another one was already upon him. He shook his head as though the very action would halt the pain in his chest. He should not be needing another pill so soon.
He stumbled over to the bed and collapsed upon the soft, downy mattress, his fingers fumbling for the vial in his pocket. Slipping the last pill between his lips, he swallowed it and lay still, waiting for the pain to subside.
Setting aside the many horrors of Rose Red, he'd had some fun today. It had been such a long time since he'd danced, particularly with such a lovely dance partner. He was no simpleton, of course, and he knew there were no romantic inclinations on his side or hers, but she had proved an adept dancer and he had been put in mind of dancing with another young lady, many years before. Of, how he missed her! The pain in his heart intensified, but he knew it was not from his illness. A heart that had broken only a year before was still very tender in its mending. Breathing deeply, he waited for the pain to pass before he attempted to sit up.
In a modern world where youngsters were trying to find new-fangled ways of scandalous dancing, it was quite refreshing to be in the company of people who knew what true dance was all about and could still appreciate the art in every move and every turn of the body. He had even been most entertained upon seeing Steve and Annie dancing, that being the most animated he'd seen her since she had yelled at the foul wind in the upstairs room.
Standing up on shaky legs, he pulled his flannel sleepwear out of his bag. Summer may be just around the corner, but spring had not relinquished its chilly embrace. Once he was clothed again, he turned down the sheets and crawled under the covers, waiting impatiently for his body temperature to warm the bed up. After several minutes, he turned to turn the lamp off only to note the thick, half-spent candle on the corner of the nightstand. Seeing a very old book of matches next to it, he quickly lit the candle and settled in to watch the mesmerizing flame as it lulled him to sleep.