Tearing

Clyde felt the connection before he even closed his eyes. Likr a whisper in the back of his mind as if the Ancient One already knew what he wanted to do.

But he didn't answer the call immediately.

"Shower first," he thought anxiously. 

He stood from the bed and headed straight to the bathroom. 

Few seconds later the cold water struck his skin like needles, sharp and grounding. Steam rose in ghostlike tendrils as he washed away the tension clinging to his body. 

Minutes passed in silence before he stepped out, dried off, and dressed in a simple black shirt and trousers.

Then he returned to the bed and sat cross-legged straighten his spine with hands resting on his knees.

He took a slow breath and began concentrating. 

Thin and swirling dark mist began to seep from his pores. It rose slowly, curling and pulsing as if around him. Then Clyde closed his eyes.

In the next breath, his consciousness slipped.