Chapter Text
The harsh rain pours down outside the quiet home. Droplets hitting the closed windows with harsh thuds one by one in a rapid yet steady rhythm. The noise outside is the only thing audible from inside.
In the darkness the home looks like any other. Pictures hanging loosely on the wall, a small flower vase placed nicely on a kitchen table.
Almost homely.
Then there’s a baby crying.
The sound ringing through the halls of the dark home. Thunder crashing down as the rain fell a little bit harder. A twisted symphony of mystery all at the same time.
Footsteps step closer to the sound, the intruder’s shadow visible in the moonlight as he walks through the hall. The wailing of an infant growing louder the deeper he steps in.
He reaches a room. The door slightly opened, barely hanging by the hinges of its frame.
The crying continues and the man steps inside.
‘It is like walking on literal eggshells’ He thinks, careful not to step on anything. There is blood all over the ground, splattered on the walls and curtains. Two bodies lie lifeless, eyes open but with a distant fog to them.
Their neck slit perfectly through, and the man walks over them.
Right in the center of the room is a crib, somehow not a splatter of blood in sight. The crying continues.
In the crib is an infant, a small and defenseless one, tiny fists clenched tightly just like their eyes. Chubby face red in fear and distress calling out to anyone, hoping someone would hear.
And someone finally did.
*
The first thing Arthur feels is pain. A hard pounding in his temple and an ache in his side making him groan.
“Arthur? Arthur you’re awake!” The voice in his head welcomes him. Arthur hums trying to open his eyes.
“Where…where are we?” His mumbles tiredly, fighting off the sleep still clinging to his body.
“We are in a hospital. Everything is fine, try to take things slow.” The voice advice soothingly, as if calming him back towards the bed. Yet Arthur relented.
“What happened? The boat…Kellin.”
“After you passed out on the boat, I managed to pull us to a nearby road. Thankfully someone saw us and brought us to this hospital where you’ve been ever since.” Arthur’s mental friend updates, his words slowly registering in his head. His mind was still foggy, though he tried to fight through it.
“Where are we then?” He asked again, lifting a hand to rub at his heavy eyelids. The entity moves inside him in confusion.
“I already told you.” His friend responds in a matter-of-fact tone. Confused by his question. Arthur huffs.
“No…no I mean, where are we?” He asks again, emphasizing what he meant.
“Oh, we are in Harper’s Hill.” The entity answers. His words cut through the fog of Arthur’s mind instantly. Dread running through his veins.
“We need to go.” He huffs, groaning as he tried to sit up, hand fisting the thin sheet with effort.
“Arthur relax, there is-”
“We need to move. We need to find Amanda Cummings before…before he does.” Arthur cuts him off, tugging at the sheet on top of him which strangely wouldn’t budge.
“Before who does? Arthur, you’re not making any sense.”
“Adam. He’s this…thing. This entity wanted more information on her. He wanted me to tell him where she was.” Arthur continued frantically, his movements continuing as he tried to move out of bed. His body felt like led, difficult to lift and move around. Why was he so exhausted? Why was it so hard to pull the blanket out of the way?
“Arthur,” The entity tried once more. This time with a stern tone to make him listen, pull him from his urgency.
“What?” He huffed, the fog returning to his mind and making it difficult to understand what was happening.
“We’ve been in a coma for a month.”
Oh.
Well.
“Please try to calm down,” The entity advised once Arthur began to hyperventilate.
“I just…wow I just can’t believe it.” He gasps out, trying to control his breathing, fingers fisting the sheet covering the lower half of his body, a heavy pressure preventing him from tugging it further up.
“What’s…what’s this?” He asked, tugging the sheet harder once more.
“Yes…about that. When I dragged us to the road someone found us.” The entity told him, tone sounded a bit more cautious. As if not knowing how Arthur would take the news.
“Yes. You said that already. What- “Arthur gets cut off by a soft groan and a shift in the bed. Arthur remains silent, lips shut as he waited for any more movement.
“The person who found us was a young girl, no older than 17 maybe 18. They brought us here and has been visiting ever since.” The entity informed quietly. Arthur’s breath hitched in surprise and confusion.
“Why?” He whispered back, not knowing what else to say.
Why would a kid visit a stranger? Let alone visit one for an entire month while unconscious?
The child groans once more. There’s more shifting and suddenly the pressure is lifted from the hospital bed. Arthur closes his eyes and leans back on his pillows, pretending to be asleep once more.
There is a soft yawn and the sound of muscles popping. She must’ve been here for a while. Sitting, sleeping.
The girl looks up at the clock and huffs. It was well past midnight.
“Shit, I overslept again.” She mumbles tiredly, rubbing her eyes before turning back to him, “Hopefully Ms. Harrison isn’t too upset this time.” They chuckled as they stood up from their chair.
“Well, I must be off then Mr. John Doe. I’ll be back tomorrow, sleep well.” She says quietly, aware of how late it was at night. She gives him a gentle smile before grabbing her coat and walking out, closing the door behind her.
Once the door was firmly closed Arthur finally opened his eyes and sat up.
“Who was that?” He asked again, still surprised at the odd interaction.
“Her name is Rue. At least that’s how she introduced herself the night she brought us in.” The voice informed, still looking in the direction the child left through.
“She’s been visiting us the entire time we’ve been here?” Arthur says skeptically.
“Every single day, most of the time at the same hour. Unless she’s running late.”
“John Doe, she called us?”
“Yes. The nurses didn’t find any identification on us and so they’ve been calling us John Doe for the time being and…” The entity trailed off, wanting to say something else but not knowing how Arthur would take it.
“And?”
“I kind of like it. It feels…fitting in a way that I can’t explain.”
“So what? You want to be called John?” Arthur asked, making the entity tremble in a way that Arthur could only assume was his way of an eye roll.
“It seems strange I know- “
“No! No, that is great to hear! I’d like to finally have something to call you other than just ‘friend’.” Arthur cuts him off once more, a small smile warming its way to his face. His chest feeling a bit lighter for the first time since he had woken up.
“Now about this dream you had…”
*
The way back was always calming. The town wasn’t as eventful at night, everyone tucked inside their homes fast asleep and ready for the new day. Something Rue learned quickly the first few days of staying in the town. The streetlamps illuminating the sidewalk a soft yellow as she walked the path back to the apartment building.
The young girl hummed a soft tune as she climbed up the building’s stairs.
“Goodnight Mrs. Baker.” Rue said softly as she reached the second floor, waving at an elderly woman who sat in front of one of the apartment doors. The elderly woman didn’t respond, at least not with words. She simply smiled wide and gave Rue a nice wet chuckle and a wobblily nod. Rue pursed her lips in a fake smile and quickly opened her front door and stepped inside the apartment.
‘Someone needs to check on that poor woman.’ She thought judgingly once she was inside the apartment. The room was dark. Lights off as it was the middle of the night, Rue sighs as she squinted to see the time on the clock.
2:00 AM
Shoot.
With a wince, the young girl gently removed her shoes and placed them down in front of the door. Careful not to make a sound as she moved around the small living room. Removing her coat and hanging it on the coat rack.
Once everything was put away, Rue slowly creeped her way to her bedroom, careful not to make a sound. She was just about to open her door when a voice startled her.
“Took you long to get back.”
Rue winces and turns around, looking sheepishly at Ms. Harrison, “I might have overstayed my visit.” She whispered in embarrassment, Mrs. Harrison simply hummed, arms crossed over her chest unamused.
“If you are going to continue to sleep here you will need to respect my curfews dear. I cannot keep waiting for you into the late hours of the night.” The older women said sternly, looking at the younger expectantly which made Rue look down in embarrassment with a nod.
“I understand ma’am, it won’t happen again I promise.” Rue replies sheepishly.
Ms. Harrison kept her gaze before it slowly softened, “Any news?” she asked eventually.
“He’s still unconscious. Nurses still don’t know if he’ll wake up but there’s still hope for him, they say.” Rue updates as she opened her bedroom door. The older woman nods to her words.
“I still don’t understand why you bother seeing him still.” She mumbles as she slowly walks back to her bedroom. Rue sighs in agreement.
“Believe me ma’am, I ask myself that very question every day. Goodnight.” Rue dismisses before closing the door behind her. Finally, alone.
The room was small, Ms. Harrison had it as a storage room before she began renting it as a spare room. A few boxes of old items are still inside the room placed in a spare corner or inside the closet. Rue didn’t complain really, as long as she had a place to rest for the night. It was better than sleeping under the train station back in New York.
Once she was ready for bed and under the nice warm blanket Mrs. Harrison kindly gave her, Rue reaches for a journal on top of the small bedside table. The journal was small but visibly used, the edges worn down and starting to peel off, a makeshift ribbon acting as a bookmark on one of the pages.
Rue takes out a pen and begins writing where she left off.
‘-voices are quieter now.
-a wet laugh
-a morgue
-maggots
-a bad smell (someone dying? Maybe rotten food?)
-a melody
-water (maybe the sea? A siren?)
-voices say “Follow”?’
Rue sighs, head leaning back to rest on the pillows. None of those words made sense, and frankly none of them seemed to connect with each other. Nevertheless, she continued to write down everything she remembered.
Everything she dreamt.
Her eyes looked up at the ceiling, the darkness making it harder for her to see but easier to drift off too. Whatever she dreamt about didn’t make sense and hasn’t made sense for the past 10 years and she didn’t expect anything to change now.
At least…she thought so.