𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕
"Falcon!!"
The shout rips through the air like a blade.
I turn toward the voice just in time to see a woman sprinting at me, her form hazy, as if the world itself can't decide whether she belongs in it.
"Falcon, you have to save me—and our child—please!" she cries, breathless, panic cracking her voice as she closes the distance between us.
My mind stalls.
Our child?
"Wha—" I start, but the word never finishes.
An arrow whistles past my shoulder, close enough that I feel the sting of air. Before I can even process it, the shaft buries itself deep in her chest.
Right in the heart.
She staggers.
Then she falls.
I catch her instinctively, my arms closing around her collapsing body as if muscle memory knows her better than my mind does.
"No. No, no, no…" I whisper, hands shaking as I press uselessly against the wound, searching desperately for a way to stop the blood that refuses to listen to reason.
Her breathing turns shallow.
Her eyes soften.
"I'm so sorry, my love," she murmurs, lifting a trembling hand to my face. "I couldn't save our child. Please… be happy without me."
She smiles.
It's gentle. Peaceful. Completely unfair.
Then her hand falls.
Her chest stills.
The world goes silent.
"No—no, no, no—NO!"
I scream as everything snaps away.
I jolt upright in bed, lungs burning as if I've been running for my life.
Darkness surrounds me.
My heart pounds like it's trying to break free from my ribs, and sweat clings to my skin.
I rake a hand through my hair and stare at the ceiling.
Again.
The same nightmare.
The same woman.
The same ending.
I glance at the alarm clock on my nightstand. Big, bright red numbers glare back at me.
3:00 a.m.
Fantastic.
Because apparently my brain thinks this is the perfect time for emotional devastation.
With a groan, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and sit there for a moment, letting the weight of the dream fade—though it never truly does.
It all started when I hired that clumsy assistant of mine.
Ever since then, the nightmares have been relentless. Always the same blur of a woman dying in my arms. Always me failing to save her.
I don't even know her name.
And yet it feels like losing her every single time.
I sigh deeply and stand, rolling my shoulders.
Sleep is officially canceled.
Might as well do something productive.
The gym it is.
At least I have two hours before I need to start getting ready for work.
If I can't outrun my nightmares, maybe I can out-lift them.
𝐀𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕
"Save me and our child, please!"
I scream as I bolt upright in bed, my chest heaving and tears streaming freely down my face.
My room is dark.
Too dark.
A moment later, footsteps thunder down the hallway.
"Athea!" my brother shouts as he bursts into my room, breathing hard like he just ran a marathon. "What's wrong?"
I swipe at my tears, already embarrassed.
"It's nothing, Aldin," I say weakly. "Just a nightmare."
He crosses his arms, unimpressed.
"One that's been keeping you awake for days," he argues.
I don't respond immediately.
Instead, I turn my head and glance at the clock.
3:00 a.m.
Of course it is.
"Why don't we continue this later, hmm?" I say quickly, forcing a smile. "I only have one hour before I have to get to work."
Before he can protest, I slip out of bed and rush into the bathroom.
Behind me, I hear him mutter, "We will."
The door closes.
I lean against the sink and stare at my reflection.
Dark circles.
Tired eyes.
A woman who hasn't slept properly in far too long.
And every time I close my eyes, it's the same man.
The same voice.
The same arrow.
.
.
.
Pushing my glasses up my nose, I walk down the empty, dim corridor of the office building.
Well… empty except for the janitors, who nod politely as if they don't find it strange that I'm here at such an ungodly hour.
I enter my boss's office and set the heavy files I was carrying onto his desk with a dull thud.
"You can do this, Thea," I mutter to myself.
Motivation achieved.
I begin cleaning the space, moving with practiced efficiency.
After an hour, I finally finish and check the time.
5:15 a.m.
Crap.
That leaves me forty-five minutes.
Putting away the cleaning supplies, I head to the printer, collect the required documents for the day, and neatly arrange them on his desk.
With fifteen minutes left, I prepare his coffee.
Black.
Strong.
Exactly the way he likes it.
I place it carefully beside the files, then drag myself to my desk in the corner.
With a tired sigh, I collapse into my chair.
Just five minutes, I tell myself.
I don't even realize I've dozed off until a throat clears directly in front of me.
I jolt awake.
"Care to explain why you're sleeping on the job?" a deep, monotone voice asks.
My soul leaves my body.
Slowly, I look up.
Shit.
Boss is here.