Chapter Text
His vision was nothing but a swirling mass of ink, pulsating and flowing over and through him as he gathered his senses. Vague sounds of rhythmic thudding echoed distantly but he couldn’t make out exactly what it was he was hearing, as though he were underwater.
Then, out of the echoing void came a brilliant flash of white like fast approaching headlights as the world exploded into being around him. That rhythmic thudding fell away into a cacophony of cracking gunfire. The sound assaulted his senses and fogged his mind until he found himself being buffeted backward by a heavy arm. He couldn’t discern who it belonged to as he picked up his feet and ran alongside the figure. They were tall, with heavy boots and a distinct authoritative air about them. Around him he could make out aspects of his environment- tiled floors, concrete walls, bars. A prison.
He hazarded a glance behind him, making out a bulking mass of riot gear clad figures that swarmed and broke off from each other as they pursued the two through the hall. The swarm of police looked indiscernible from those he'd seen the gang confront a hundred times. They looked and moved just like they should but they were… off somehow. Like a photocopy of a photocopy or an old memory that yellows with age. They were wrong. This place was wrong.
He felt a hand on his back, shoving him forward through the double doors he was sure hadn’t been ahead of them a moment ago. They slammed behind the two, his newfound partner yelling something indiscernible above the hail of gunfire and thudding boots behind the doors.
Inside the cell block they’d found themselves in were a number of other silhouettes- each blurred and indistinguishable from the last. One seemed to call his name, and he found himself lunging to catch a hefty duffel bag that was thrown his way. On instinct he seemed to know what was needed of him, making for the stairs along with the rest of the figures. Above, up countless flights of stairs, came the beaming light of a doorway.
With each step the bag slung over his shoulders weighed down on his back, slowing his pace to a crawl. The sound of heavy gunfire and bullets careening past his ears urged him to push on, but the weight on his back bore down harder with each step toward the welcoming light. He thought he heard voices- much clearer than that of his accomplices but still hazy and distant.
‘...rat…’
‘...never make it…’
The distinct sound of a switchblade being unsheathed…
‘...are you doing…?’
Three heavy thuds and a sudden crash…
The sound of a door being beaten in he’d heard in his head echoed up from the bottom floor as the swarm melted into the room. He’d made it to the top but the floor beneath him felt slippery, petrichor clouded his senses, and there was the sound of feet hastily meeting wet concrete. In his ears, rain hammered down just as deafeningly as the heartbeat threatening to crack his skull and fracture his ribs.
‘...Avery…’
Ignore it.
‘...abandoned me…’
Push through it.
The distant sound of sirens growing closer and louder, until deafeningly loud…
He grit his teeth, tightening his grip on the strap around his shoulder and clawing forward with what little energy he had left in him. The sickeningly familiar feeling of water rushing past his ears and filling his lungs nearly made him gag. The light was blindingly bright now- just barely able to make out the figures whirling past him at a pace he couldn’t match. Someone called his name and he slung the bag from his shoulder and onto the floor. Using all his body weight, he stepped forward and hurled it through the doorway- the light extinguishing just as quickly as it had appeared. With the weight lifted from his shoulders the echoes ceased, leaving him in a deafening silence that clung to his skin and crawled through his veins the longer he listened- and when had the gunfire stopped?
He took a moment to look around him, hoping to finally see who it was he had been running with, but he instead found himself alone in the cell block. The longer he looked, the more the walls twisted and bent in a dizzying fashion. He picked a direction and walked. The halls blurred and melded together through his venture across the prison block like streetlights on wet pavement, each one indistinguishable from the last. The air was wrong. It carried no sound- not even his own heartbeat could be heard over the cacophony of nothingness.
He at last came to a window reaching to a ceiling impossibly high and suffocating. What little dim light graced the grubby tiled floor was obscured by the dreadful silhouette of a monolithic beast in the distance- Impossibly far yet close enough to feel the sting of its icy breath. Two or perhaps a hundred arms welcomed him in its chilling embrace, spread wide across the sky. A thousand invisible eyes bore into him, searing his flesh, churning his stomach and rooting him to the spot. Its unhearable voice screamed in a hushed whisper of secrets inaudible to mortal men, beating at his head from the inside and crying out upon deaf ears.
The pounding of footsteps on wet concrete rang out down the hallway once more, approaching from behind with frightening urgency. He dared not turn to look, his body locked in position by strings of an invisible force until he could finally tear away his gaze. He hardly had time to register the identical eyes that met his own before the dull ache in his stomach boiled and flashed and burned white hot under the touch of his facsimile's cruel blade. The world seemed to flip upside down as the stained tile walls fell away and the floor came careening towards him at a breakneck pace until-
Bristol's lungs filled with air, the sudden sensation of falling rocketing him into a dark room, unsure which direction was up. All that lit his view were a few faint rays of moonlight peering through the rain-speckled glass that appeared to be above him. He righted himself, the window and accompanying wall falling into their correct place at his side. The scratchy cloth of his creased button-up clung to his skin with a cold sweat, peeling away from his back in a sickening fashion as he sat up. With a few uneasy breaths and a quick cursory glance at his surroundings he sobered himself, gradually releasing the white-knuckle grip he had on the rather unfortunate couch cushion he’d unknowingly grabbed. The phantom ache in his abdomen gradually pulsed and faded as he regained his composure. He was on the safehouse couch. He was alone. Although he wished he hadn't been- making a point of averting his gaze from the windows should those thousand eyes be staring back into him.
The feeling of those same invisible tendrils crept around his limbs and beckoned him to stay rooted to his spot on the couch, but the growing sense of impending doom overpowered their hold and pushed him to slink downstairs into the cold, hard, real safety of the basement. He set himself up at the base of the stairs, one arm holding his knees to his chest and the other cradling the back of his head as he attempted to quell the hammering in his chest.
He didn't sleep that night.