Chapter 13 - Howling Wind From Within

The pill, Matthew's saving grace that slid down his throat as swiftly as he had tossed it into his mouth. It was tough with a taste like stale candy. Stale candy, but with a sweet lingering taste, wrapping his tongue in sickening flavours.

Matthew stopped falling, but howling wind picked up and the rain came down faster. Water soaked his clothes as they stuck to his shivering body like a second layer of skin. Matthew attempted to hide from the storm by covering himself in the white sheets of the bed. He closed his eyes so tight, crying out for the terrible storm to pass, but even in his makeshift safehouse, he was unable to escape its terrible chill.

The room dropped to freezing cold temperatures. Soon, the rain turned to fractals of ice that pelted him in the blankets. They cut Matthew's face and arms, and he realized the bed sheet would not protect him. He pulled it away, sitting up in bed, and still the shards cut him. Crimson patches bloomed on his clothes, bright and mesmerizing like the raging sky.

Matthew desperately struggled to stand, because even though fear held him in its cruel grip, he realized long ago he was quite a stubborn man. A stubborn man willing to face all odds, for it was better to face fears head-on, then hide in bed sheets and wait for the storm to pass. What would life be if all he ever did was hide indoors and under blankets?

So, finding his footing on the tiled floor of the psychiatric ward, Matthew screamed at the top of his lungs, in a ragged yet powerful voice like a mighty warrior rising once more on the battlefield.

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