Minutes passed, and he was nudged awake by someone. He opened his eyes, disoriented, but deceived himself into believing it was just a nightmare and nothing else.
"Help me bring the glowing crystals," he instructed without looking at the person who woke him up, assuming it was some servant who had come.
From the faint moonlight illuminating the room, he could only glimpse a shadow at the side of the bed.
"Yes, master," the shadow responded in a dry tone that sent a chill down Dean's spine.
He felt that voice was familiar, but it was impossible—that person was already dead at his hands.
He watched him being raped by those men and breathe his last with a vengeful gaze.
Minutes passed, and the shadow didn't move to carry out his orders. It just stood by his bed—the piercing gaze on him made him tremble with fear.
But he tried to brainwash himself into thinking it was just the chilling cold in his room.
