Vincent's strange dream

As soon as Elara left the room, Isaac's concern was evident. Jack urgently asked, "Where is the doctor?"

"He is on his way, sir," Isaac assured, doing his best to maintain composure.

Vincent turned to the other man in the room, Jack, and with a tone weakened by pain, he demanded, "Jack, I need all their names. I need to know who set me up tonight, and I want them in the dungeon in three days. Do you understand?"

Jack, understanding the gravity of the situation, responded with a firm nod, "Consider it done, sir." Jack Powell, Vincent's trusted bodyguard, had accompanied him on countless business trips. The unexpected attack tonight had caught them both off guard, leaving Vincent infuriated.

Soon, Doctor White, a 30-year-old surgeon, arrived. Dr. White expressed his confusion as he questioned, "What happened, Mr. Holloway? I have never seen a knife wound like this before."

Vincent, weakened by the ordeal, muttered, "Poison."

Dr. White, wearing gloves, began inspecting the wound. As he examined, Vincent's face betrayed the pain he was enduring. Isaac, standing on the side with worry etched across his features, couldn't help but ask, "Is everything okay? Is he going to be alright?"

Dr. White, still focused on his examination, responded, "I am amazed by how deep this wound looks, but there seems to be no internal injury."

Vincent, in a weak and strained voice, questioned, "What do you mean?"

The doctor continued, "The way the wound goes deep, I thought maybe you might have some injured organs, but it seems fine."

Vincent, visibly relieved yet still weakened, pressed on, "And the poison?"

Dr. White admitted, "I am not sure, but I will draw blood and do some tests. I will have results for you tomorrow."

Vincent, now feeling the toll of his injuries, sank back, his weakened state apparent in the lines etched on his face. The room was heavy with tension as they awaited further news on the extent of Vincent's condition.

Dr. White's voice carried a mix of concern and professionalism as he informed Vincent, "I need to stitch you up, so I have to give you some local anesthesia to numb the pain."

Vincent, weakened and stubborn, immediately responded, "No… no anesthesia."

"But—" Dr. White began.

Vincent cut him off, insisting, "Stitch it up."

Dr. White sighed, understanding the unyielding nature of Vincent. Having been the family doctor for three years, he knew how determined and resistant to medical assistance Vincent could be. Reluctantly, he prepared to stitch the wound without anesthesia.

As everything was set, Dr. White held the needle in his hand and warned, "This will hurt. Just say the word if you can't take it, and I will stop."

Vincent, without uttering a word, nodded his head and then gritted his teeth, closing his eyes in anticipation of the pain. Dr. White commenced the stitching, the sound of gritted teeth echoing in the room, a testament to the discomfort Vincent was enduring. The room was filled with a tense atmosphere as Vincent's body tensed with each stitch.

The pain became too much for Vincent to bear, and soon, he collapsed. Dr. White, quick and efficient, completed his task. He turned to Isaac, saying, "He will be fine. Just make sure that he gets the best rest he deserves."

Isaac, grateful for the doctor's expertise, responded with a heartfelt, "Okay, thank you, Dr. I won't see you out; I have to get him to his bedroom."

"Don't worry. Oh, I will be back tomorrow with the results. It's best to know what type of poison we are dealing with," Dr. White informed as he left.

As Dr. White departed, Isaac carefully lifted Vincent from the couch, placing him in his wheelchair. With gentle precision, Isaac wheeled Vincent to his room, a silent acknowledgment of the vulnerability and pain that had marked the evening's events. The air in the room carried a mixture of relief and concern as Vincent's well-being hung in the balance.

As Vincent slipped into the realm of dreams, he found himself traversing a mysterious and enchanting dark forest. The towering trees, draped in shadows, seemed to whisper ancient secrets as a soft breeze rustled their leaves. The air was thick with an otherworldly energy, and the ambient glow of luminescent plants cast an ethereal light, revealing the mystical landscape.

Strange, magical creatures moved in the shadows, their forms fantastical and unfamiliar to Vincent. Some had iridescent wings that shimmered like moonlight, while others had scales that glowed in an array of colors. The forest floor was adorned with bioluminescent flowers, casting an enchanting glow that danced with the creatures' movements.

Despite the beauty of the surroundings, there was an odd tension in the air. The creatures, with their mesmerizing features, seemed to regard Vincent with an unspoken fear. As he walked through the ancient woods, the beings would retreat into the shadows, their eyes wide and cautious.

Vincent, in his dream, couldn't fathom why these magical creatures would be afraid of him. He felt a strange sense of power coursing through him, a power that seemed to emanate from the very essence of the dream itself. His steps echoed in the silent forest, leaving a mysterious resonance that seemed to heighten the creatures' unease.

Vincent continued his journey through the dreamy forest, the air filled with an ethereal energy that seemed to thicken with every step. The soft glow of luminescent flora created a dreamlike atmosphere, casting an otherworldly light on his path.

In the midst of the enchanting woods, he came across a mysterious woman with her back turned towards him. The strands of her hair cascaded down, brushing against the intricate patterns of an otherworldly gown that seemed to blend seamlessly with the magical surroundings. She gave a soft, haunting chuckle and uttered words that sent a shiver down Vincent's spine, "You are here. Come with me."

Attempting to see her face, Vincent felt an inexplicable force resisting him. It was as if an unseen veil obscured the woman's features, leaving her identity concealed in the shadows. No matter how hard he tried, her face remained a mysterious enigma.

Compelled by an eerie curiosity, Vincent hesitated but eventually started walking behind the woman. As he followed, the forest seemed to morph and twist, creating a surreal trail that led deeper into the dreamland. The woman's laughter echoed around him, the soft and unsettling sound filling the air.

Suddenly, without warning, the woman vanished into thin air. Vincent halted, surrounded by the quiet rustling of leaves and the eerie silence that followed her disappearance. The only remnant of her presence was the lingering, creepy chuckle that seemed to echo in the dreamy forest, leaving Vincent in a state of confusion and intrigue.

As he stood alone in the magical woods, Vincent couldn't shake the feeling that the mysterious woman held the key to some hidden truth within the confines of his own dreamscape. The dream continued to unfold, unveiling layers of mystery and mystique, and Vincent was left to navigate the surreal landscape, chasing the echoes of the woman's haunting laughter.

Vincent's eyes snapped open, and he found himself drenched in sweat, his breathing heavy and labored. As he attempted to move, a searing pain shot through his abdomen, instantly jolting him into full wakefulness. The dream's enchanting forest and the mysterious woman were replaced by the harsh reality of his injured body.

Grimacing against the pain, Vincent gingerly tried to shift his position. The memory of the poisoned wound resurfaced, and he became acutely aware of the throbbing ache that emanated from his abdomen. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead as he grappled with the intense discomfort.

The room around him came into focus, and the dream's magical ambiance dissolved into the starkness of his bedroom. The dreamlike forest was replaced by the sterile atmosphere of reality, and the mysterious woman's laughter lingered as a haunting echo in his mind.

Vincent took a moment to collect himself, his hand instinctively reaching for the source of the pain. As he touched the bandaged wound, a sharp intake of breath betrayed the agony that still lingered.

Reality settled in, and Vincent realized that he was not only wrestling with the aftermath of the poisoned wound but also grappling with the remnants of the surreal dream that had left him disoriented. With a heavy sigh, he accepted the challenges that awaited him in both the physical and dream realms, determined to navigate through the mysterious enigmas that had unfolded in the night.