Crimson Awakening

“—Kestrel.”

Through the darkness I heard a voice, piercing through the haze.

It sounded urgent. Someone calling out to me.

“—Kestrel, shift back.”

Every now and then I would see snippets. Just stilled images flashing before me, showing pictures of a living room. Of a broken table. Of a boy.

It felt somewhat familiar but I couldn’t place it.

“Kestrel! —Ah, fuck.”

…And pain. So much pain.