The dream isn't a vision. I know that instantly.
This time, it feels different—more vivid, more real. I'm not just seeing it. I'm living it.
A man with silver hair stands beneath the moonlight, his arms wrapped around a woman.
They look at each other with an intensity that makes my chest ache. There's love in their eyes, the kind that's rare, the kind that's eternal.
A little boy dashes around them, his laughter ringing through the night like music. I don't know his name, but I know him.
I feel it in my bones, in the way my heart pulls toward him. The same way it pulls toward the woman.
The man watches the boy with a quiet pride, the woman's laughter joining the child's. They are happy. They are a family.
Then everything shifts.
The laughter is gone.
The air is thick with the stench of blood.