Chapter 10;
Innuendo.

Dion could
feel a soft tingling sensation in his right middle finger. He had woken up from
a slumber with the steady bleed of the heart monitor rymticaly sounding through
the room. Dion's eyes looked at his finger. Slowly he could lift it, the
feeling in his limbs returning and his body feeling like it was awakening. He
could turn his head, move his fingers even move his feed around. It had been
the first time he could directly control this body. Did that mean he was cured?
His mind went off to Rakshasi and the strange voice that should have helped him
with the transitions from the two worlds. He could feel the warmth of the
hospital chamber for the first time. Dion closed his eyes as he came to realise
it had all been just a dream. A tear formed in the corner of his eye while he
drifted off into sleep.

He spend
six weeks in a state of barely awake with in the intensive care of the
hospital. Over the weeks he was able to control more and more of his body.
Today the time has come that he would be transported. On bed he was rolled
through different corridors to the recovery ward. He was placed in a room with seven
others. A curtain was placed around Dion to seal him off from the rest of the
room. Dion let out a rather long sign. His eyes glazed over to an small
television in the left corner of the with curtains sealed of part. His hand
grasped the remote that was on a small table to his right. His arm was shaking
as he aimed the remote to the television. He flicked trough the channels,
showing one disaster after another. The news channels giving him nothing but
the worse that was happening did not cheer him up. Displeased the turned the
television off. His gaze moved to the window to stare outside. The world he was
awake in felt alien to him. The cars outside, the noise of people in and out
the hospital disturbed him. He longed for silence.

Dion could
not sleep, it was well past midnight but even now he missed the sound of nature
around him. The silence disturbed by the occasional animal or the occasional growl
from Rakshasi. The only distraction he had during the days was his parents,
wife or friends paying him a visit. It was a distraction yes but he did not feel
connected to them any more. He felt alienated by his own world. Alienated by
those who shared blood bounds with. His wife showed more and more signs of
getting close to labour with each passing day. She told stories what happened
while he was away, who was married to whom. Some friends of her getting
children and random gossip. He did only smile and nod, he was not interested in
her stories. Detached from the world, he could not care less about stories what
his former friends did.  Dion's mother
was the first to notice Dion became detached from the world. She often asked
him how he felt about the world and how he felt personally. It had resulted in
more visits to the hospital's therapist. 
His parents, his wife, his friends, the doctors and the therapists tried
their best to help him.

He could
hear the sudden sound of doors opening. Dion turned his head to look between a
gap in the curtain. Two nurses entered, both guiding a rolling bed to the empty
spot next to Dion. He could see a women laying in the bed. She was softly
sobbing in pain. The low lighting level made him unable to see who it was. The
curtains blocked his view from looking directly next to him. Even curious he
did not try to move the curtains away. Even detached from the society he could
figure out that doing so was rude. As the night progressed the women's sobs
eased as she drifted off into sleep. Dion himself could no longer fight back
the sleep.

The next
morning he awoke as usual by the breakfast that was served. Two tasteless
slices of half warm toast with some scrambled eggs and tomatoes. Dion could
barely even eat the food. He longed for the taste of raw meat. Once finished
the doctors came with his daily medicine. “Good morning" A young doctor said to
him while offering the medicine. Dion did not return the greeting, only a soft
grunt as his morning rest was disturbed. Like an automated machine he took his
medicine. “Sir" he began again. He slowly opened the curtains to his right.
Where the women was brought in last night was laying in the hospital bed.
Dion's eyes fell on the women's face. The doctor only confirmed what he thought
“your wife was brought in last night" Dion could see a depressed lifeless state
with in her eyes. The doctor continued with “I am sorry, but your child was
born to early." Dion could feel an cold feeling running down his spine. He
looked with shocked eyes at his wife who was lying in bed. He wanted to make
her feel better, He wanted to do something. Yet he could barely walk or even
comprehend what was happening around him at times. He could feel himself
spiralling down into a deep pith of depression. The young doctor moved Dion
over to his wife. Dion stretched out his arm to grasp the hand of his wife. She
slowly looked at him and with a quavering voice she said “I am sorry, I am so
sorry." Dion softly shushed her. It was a bitter sweet to realise that it was
the first time he felt connected to his wife. “It is not your fault, love."
Even as he said the words, he could feel if he betrayed Rakshasi. He could see
his wife even becoming more sad. “I know. But still I am sorry"

The days
passed slowly, Dion spoke with his wife as often as needed. He could feel his
connection with his wife growing. Even if his wife was not responding positive.
Dion wondered if this was like she would feel last months while he was in a
coma. As often as he was allowed he paid his visit to the hospital's
psychiatrists. He could feel energized again. Rakshasi started to slip away
into the dusty dark coroners of his mind now he had a reason to life.  The old world he knew as a dream became
reality to him. His movement was stiff, he needed aid but he walked again.
Doctors told him he would make a full recovery from the crash. Trough when he
asked about his wives condition they went silence.

It was a
rainy day. The soft ticking of rain falling against the windows of the hospital
emanated trough the rooms of the hospital. Dion was lying in bed, writing down
a story. The story of what he seen in his dreams. Dragons and elves, the king
and the journey away from the little town. For sake of keeping his memory he
written them down.  He was shaken out of
the stream of thoughts as commotion started to rise up in the bed next to him.
It was his wife. She was still asleep yet she started to shake violently.
Dion's eyes fell on the heart monitor next to her, the heart rate fluctuated
heavily. Within minutes doctors rushed in. the curtains around the bed closed
and Dion was sealed off from what was happening. A nurse came to him, how much
he begged to see his wife he was not allowed. The nurse said everything will be al right, that they would take good care of her. He hardly believed it. His
worries where only confirmed when his wife was rushed out the room. He was left
alone in the room, alone with the nurse. Whom tried to calm him down as best as
she could.

It had been
a few weeks since his wife had given birth and was moved to the intensive care.
Dion's days seemed hollow again. Just when he was feeling integrated in the
world again. he was torn from his place. He was still writing down the
memories, It had become more of an occupation to him. something to keep his
thoughts focused on the paper. He tried to integrate in the world of dragons
again, feel home with Rakshasi. He had let it fade away too much, he was no
longer attached to the memories. He could feel himself fall between both
worlds. The conversations with his psychiatrists where no longer easy. He often
took a trip down the grey hallways of the hospital. The only point of light was
that his wife was recovering. Still on the intensive care and still weak, but
recovering none the less. He could say less of his son. The doctors still had
his just born son in an separate room. Tubes connected to the tiny body. The
tiny infant had large bandages around his skull from numeral of operations. “A
brain tumour" the doctors told him. They were confident that they had removed
any remains of the tumour. They thanked new operation techniques with lasers
for that. Without the tumour it was all up for the infant to keep on fighting
for its life.

Dion stared
out of the window again. his mind with the memories of Rakshasi again.
sometimes his eyes turned to the paper to write some random string of thoughts
on the paper before returning to glare out the window again. It was good that
he written down his emotions and memories, that was that the psychiatrists told
him. He did not feel good trough, he was worried. His wife was walking again. A
complication of her giving birth had nearly caused an heart attack in late
stage.  She had received treatment and
was restoring to her full health again. Dion could see her often sitting on the
edge of his bed. They did not need to talk, they could feel the struggle they
each went through. A struggle that connected them in fate. His wife often
looked into the scribbles of words Dion put on paper. She even tried to start a
discussion about the memories. Trying to get some kind of grip on what he was
dreaming off. She tried to connect it to her own state of mind when she had the
heart attack. Dion had to admit it was nothing alike, while she was merely
dreaming and knew it. He was still not sure that everything he remembered was a
dream.

Dion needed
no aid any more to walk. He stood in front of an open window with a slight smile
on  his face. A warm breeze flowed over
his face while he looked outside into the sunny sky. A doctor walked up to him
“Dion." Dion turned around and shook the doctors hand “It is time to go" the
doctor said with a smile on his face. “you can go home." Dion could not put his
happiness into words. Across the room in the opening of the door his wife stood
ready with a long black leather coat. Dion walked up to her, straight in the
coat. For a short moment they remained chit chatting with the doctor before
heading to the car. He would finally go home, home to where he belonged. The
car drive itself was an short and silent trip. Dion and his wife had little to
say to each other. Both had their own worries. Dion was worried about his son.
When they left, the infant was still under intensive care of the doctors. His
son did not seemed to make any recovery from the surgery. Dion could do little
but to hope. Sometimes he asked his wife how she felt about it. She responded
in an odd way “only the Lord knows." Dion was rather shocked, shocked that his
own wife would respond in such an manner. It was not like her to have an
religious remark.

The more
the days passed, the more Dion could feel a wedge driven between him and his
wife. On Sunday she stood up early to go to church. She even tried to get him
with her. She told him how she prayed for Dion's life and how he was returned
to her. Dion was put in an awful position; He kept to the logical reasoning of
science. It made him no longer comfortable to talk to his wife about what he
felt. One day after church she came home with the message that the priest would
be dining with them that evening. Dion tried to contain a certain amount of
anger. He could feel he was driven in a corner.

“Dion?" His
wife said “Can you please get the silverware on the table" his wife asked from
the kitchen. She had insisted to cook for them, leaving Dion with little to do.
He laid the book 'Temeraire' away and stood up from the dark red sofa. With a
small grunt he walked to the closet. To take up the large black box that was
filled with shining silverware. For a moment Dion just stared at the wonders of
the silverware. It was his silver, his hoard, he would not let some strange see
his hoard. With a heavy heart he put the box on the cloth of the table. What
was wrong with him, getting obsessed with silverware. “Dion? Are you al right"
His wife had sneaked up behind him and gave him a fright. Dion absent-mindedly
stroke his fingers over the silverware. He replied with a monotone voice “I am al right" he could feel the hand of his wife on his shoulder. “Tell me." Her
voice was commanding.

Dion turned
to look in the blue eyes of his wife. “You want to know what is wrong?" felt
tense “Let me tell you. Everything is wrong. I no longer know my friends." Dion
could feel his heart sink, he could see pain in the eyes of his wife. Her voice
was shaking “What about me?" Dion turned his eyes away, too afraid to look into
her eyes. “I don't know. You are not the person I remember you to be." He added
softly “I am not the person I remembered to be" he could hear pain in his
wife's voice “Is this because my turning to faith?" Dion felt like he was put
in a vice. “Yes and no." he wanted to say more but he could not come to term
with his words. His wife seemed to be stricken deep by his words. “I did not
wish to drive a wedge between us, Dion." Dion comforted her by grabbing her
shoulder with his hand. “I know. You found strength in faith. I cannot be part
of that." They stared in each other's eyes for a short time. They were
interrupted by the sound of a cooking alarm in the kitchen. “I should properly
get that" Dion nodded to her . he returned to the silverware. Making sure it
was shining. He still did not look forward to meeting the priest. He could only
hope that the amount of religious talk would be minimized.

Dion looked
at the clock, it was seven o clock. The priest could come any moment. Dion had
a nearly empty glass of wine in his hand. He had started before hand with
drinking. He was already down on his second glass. He would need the alcohol if
he was to survive the diner. The doorbell rang, his wife shouted from the
kitchen “I got it" Dion could hear some chatter in the hallway after the door
opened. He straightened his cloths and stood up. Just in the moment the priest
entered the dining chamber. Dion shook hands with the priest and introduced
himself. “Ahh Dion" he priest said. “It is good to hear you have made a full
recovery." Dion was relieved, so far so good. He positioned himself on the
chair again. His wife next to him and the priest opposite of them. The wine
glasses where filled and the conversation started. Most of it Dion could not
follow. Events that happened while he was in coma. He did not took much effort
to interact. Only when asked directly Dion gave a reply. The subject changed
from politics into science, a subject all to dear to Dion's heart. Another
relieve came when His wife had to leave the table to get the starter ready.
Dion asked her if he needed to help but she smiled and shook his head. He was
left alone with the priest on a rather touchy subject. “so Dion" the priest
broke the awkward silence. “I hear you are a scientist" Dion nodded “Well
actually I am an engineer in the field of turbine technology and large scale energy
production" The priest nodded interested. “I see, Stressful?" Dion took a deep
breath in reply to the priest “Rather yes, trough I just have to see if I can
get my job back." The priest obviously did not want to go on about his coma,
asked “I have seen some of your papers. Is it really that you see the world
mathematical?" Dion gave a soft grunt, knowing that he was now walking on
glass. “Well yes. From quantum mechanics you can rationalize that the world we
know is nothing but equations" the priest gave a polite smile “and you do not
have room in your equations for God?" Dion had to force a small smile, he
wanted to laugh really. Of course there was an attempt to convert him. “quiet
simple, no." with those words an awkward silence fell between the two. The
priest did not peruse the goal of telling him more about religion nor Dion felt
inclined to know more about the priest.

The silence
was broken by the phone on the wall that rang. Dion could hear from the kitchen
“Dion love can you please take it?" not like she had to ask really. Dion took
the phone of the wall. “Dion speaking." A women's voice was on the other side.
It was the hospital. “Sir can you please come. There are some implications with
your child" Dion fell a cold shiver ran down his spine “How urgent is it?" the
women's soft voice replied to him “Very." Dion thanked her quickly and hang up.
he nodded at the priest “if you excuse me" he walked straight to the kitchen.
“Love…" he started softly. He made sure she was not holding anything in her hands.
“The hospital called…something is wrong with our child" He could see that his
wife nearly fainted. She rushed out to tell the priest they had to go. Dion was
just detached from the world enough to turn of the gas on the stoves. He did
not wish to destroy even more.

Within
twenty minutes after the news they were on the road. His wife shaking behind
the wheel. Shaking of fear of losing her first child. Dion was staring at the
evening road. The trip to the hospital was short. Most of the streets were deserted
of cars. Even finding a parking spot in the hospital was no big deal. The two
rushed inside to meet the doctor who called. A women who was in charge of the
infant intensive care. They met her in a roomy office. A computer with paper
word standing to the right of the room. In the middle a large table with two
chairs on one side and the doctor's chair on the other. The doctor locked the
room and sat down on her chair. “thank you for coming so quick" he started with
a serious tone in her voice.  “I am afraid
the child has developed an infection within the brain. We cannot keep it
contained." She started, glaring at both the parents. “We have discovered organ
failures trough out the body." she took a clipboard from a pile. “There is
nothing we can do. Right now the child only lives on live support and even that
is failing him." the doctor offered them the clipboard. Dion could feel an ice
cold wave over take him. A soft sob came from besides him. his wife's face was
covered in tears as she listened to the news. “We leave the choice to you. But
we think it might be best to unhook him from life support" Dion's heart
stopped, tears rolled down his cheeks. Just when he was getting in the groove
of life he was losing a child. His gaze moved to his wife. She was just looking
at the clipboard presenting in front of her. The only response was that she
gave a small nod and took the pen. Dion felt another wave of coldness flush
over him. Was she really that easily to give up the child. Maybe she did not
want him…Dion felt an uncomfortable flush over him as he saw the clipboard
pushed to him. he looked up to stare in the eyes of his wife. Her eyes where
cold. He felt driven to just sign the document. His wife signed after it. the
doctor nodded “I understand this is hard for you." The doctor stood up and
walked to the door to unlock it. “If you want you can see the child." The
doctor said.

Dion stood
in front of the window to the intensive care. He looked down at the child that
the doctor's said where his. The child had his mother's eyes but his face. Every
single heart beat on the monitor hurt him. The little child was weak and tin.
His gaze moved across the room, a dialyses, blood pump and other machines that
kept the child alive. A doctor was standing next to the child, looking with
hollow eyes at the couple. Dion moved his gaze to his wife, she looked back at
him. it was time. They both turned there gaze at the doctor, Dion gave a small
nod. It was not like in the movies that someone would pull the plug out of the
machines. It was not over dramatic where the heart monitor returned to a long
bleep. It was a simple injection, anaesthesia injected into the blood stream.
The heart started to beat slower and slower. Finally it all came down to the
flick of a switch. With the flick of the switch the apparatus around the child
stopped and so did the child's heart. It was not a long bleep that echoed into
the silence. It was nothing, nothing but silence. Dion's eyes became wet as he
gazed at the lifeless child. Doctors noted the time of death and covered the
child with white cloth.

It would be
a cremation. Dion found peace in the idea of turning a body into ash. Maybe
what he kept from his dreams of being a dragon was the symbolism of what fire
was. It gave life, it gave death. He would see no other honourable way to
return his child to the earth beyond fertile ash. Shame his wife did not share
the opinion. It was another wedge driven between them. They could not agree on
the appropriate way to deliver the last honour to the child who has been on the
world for a way to short of a time. She wanted a grand funeral and a grave,
showing everyone how much she loved the child. 
It did not stick right to Dion; inviting strangers he never knew to the
funeral of his child. Or was it his child after all, legally yes. But really?
He missed the pregnancy, the birth. He was only at the moment of death. He only
saw the life fading from those blue eyes. Every night when he closed his eyes
he could see those blue eyes staring at him as the life fades away. each night
he a thorn driven into his soul. Large parts of the day where filled with
trying to process what had happened. Not just the death of his first and only
child, also the bound to his wife weakening. Dion spend most of his time in his
study. In the bookshelf's he had a record player playing one of his older
albums. It was an single 'Tubular Bells' from Mike Oldfield. The tune from the
tubular bells in combination with the piano set his mind in a trance. With the
record spinning over and over again in the back ground, he written away in the
little note book that was not a gate way to his inner most thoughts. He made
sure that he did not lose it or that someone would get the opportunity to read
into it. Even for his wife he would hide the feelings. He feared that she would
proclaim him mentally ill if she read what he written down.

The days
passed on, Dion awoken on the fateful Sunday that would be the burial of his
son. His wife had guild tripped him into going ahead with the burial that she
saw fit. The only compensation was the amount of people invited. Dion dressed
up in his black suit, preparing for the burial. He did not spoke a word to his
wife or the guest at the funeral. He acted like a ghost, watching but not
interaction. Only the friends he used to be close with had come to the funeral.
The rest of the people where strangers to him. People only his wife knew. He
could not feel more alienate by the world as this moment. The condolences to
him where quick and awkward while next to him those to his wife where filled
with passion.

The
ceremony started, the priest, the same one who dined with Dion. Entered the
church to say the starting words. “We are gathered here to mourn the death of
one without a name." Behind the priest and oak wooden coffin. “Sadly the time
was short, to show. Let us remember that life is precious and can be taken away
so easily." The priest moved on to the speeches, his wife, some friends of her.
While everyone expected Dion to give one too, He remained seated. He believed
it was better to give none then hollow words. With his refusal to give a speech
they moved on to the burial part of the ceremony. The coffin carried by four
man in black suits. Dion and his wife in front of them and the rest of the
family with the friends behind the coffin. The grave was freshly dug and still
without stone. The man in suit put the coffin on the elevator to lower it down
into the grave. The priest began with the last speech “and we commend the body
to the earth. Ash to ash dust to dust." A soft humming sound as the coffin was
lowered in the grave. The priest offered the shovel to Dion and his wife. A few
quick shovels of dirt over the coffin and the ceremony was concluded. Slowly
the group of people thinned out until it was just Dion and his wife standing
over the grave. Eventually the rain forced them also to go home. With a heavy
heart Dion stepped in the passenger side of the car. Ready to go home. A deadly
silence fell between him and his wife, a silence only broken when they arrived
at home. “What were you thinking" His wife said agitated.

Dion
responded confused, stricken out of the stream of thoughts that clouded his
mind. His response only resulted in more anger of his wife. “You know exactly
what I am meaning. No speech?" Dion rubbed is temples. “What did you want me to
say? How I miss him? How I never known him? Do you honestly want me to say
hollow words and lie about my feelings." His eyes where filled with fire, this
was once to many time he was accused of not knowing what to do. “I do not feel
anything! I did nothing then sign the paper and see a life ebb away. He does
not feel like he is my son." The wedge between them had grown to large, Dion
did not care any more. He wanted peace of mind. “Am I still your wife? Or don't
you feel anything about me too" her face was filled with sorrow and pain. He
could see about her facial expression that she still loved him. A love she
tried to hold while they were driven apart. “Honestly, No. Ever since I awaken
from the sleep nothing feels connected to me." His words came like hits of a
hammer. With each word he could see his wife breaking. She wanted to open the
door and leave but Dion was too quick for her. “This is your home, your life. Call
a cab I will go. It is the least I can do." He could see his wife twist again,
happiness and sorrow colliding. Filled with tears and pain she said softly
“Thank you…" her voice shaking.

Dion found
himself on the couch sharing a bottle of whisky with his wife. He was waiting
for the taxi to take him to a local hotel. He had no ill feelings towards her,
after all he could not blame her. They had become two different persons. Dion
even more than his wife. The doorbell rang, the taxi had arrived. Dion walked
to the door, his wife offered to carry some of his luggage. With the luggage
loaded in the black taxi the two said most likely the last words for a
while.  His wife gave a soft kiss on his
cheek and whispered “goodbye. Thanks for everything" embraced her, he whispered
back “I will see you around."

“how long
you will be staying sir?" the women at the reception said. 'Cloudia' the name
badge. “I do not know" Dion replied “at least a week." The receptionist
continued to type into the computer “we have a room for a week. But it is
possible that you need to change rooms if you want to stay longer" Something
that seemed all the more logical to Dion. he took out the credit card from his
wallet and paid the rather high price. After a short scribble of some information
he got his key offered. His room was on the top floor. He had rented a roomy
single bedroom. If he was to stay longer most certainly he needed some space.
He tossed his cloths messy into the room and laid on the bed. Trying to get
some rest of what happened.

The weeks
passed slowly, he spoke to his wife a few times since he had left, he hoped
that he would integrate with her again. with his life and get hold of things. A
hope that was flushed down the drain as a delivery boy came with some papers. He
gave the boy a small tip and opened the official looking documents. The first
thing that he saw was a letter from his wife.

“dear Dion,

I am with you with all my heart. You are a kind
and caring soul. God will be with you and I will pray for you. However, I can't
life like this anymore. I have waited so long for you to wake from your coma.
You have changed, I have changed and I want to move on. I am sorry Dion, I hope
you will find new love. I hope you will not blame me. Enclosed I have the
documents for our divorce. I will not lie to you Dion. I have met someone who
fits me better, Trough I will wait until we are apart. Not like enemies but
like friends.

With Love,

Your friend, Sashia"

Dion's word
collapsed in on itself as he read the letter. Divorce, it was final. He had no
connection with her any more. He collapsed on the ground crying. He papers
fumbled in one hand. He wanted to be angry at her, he wanted to blame her but
he could not. She was in her right to file a divorce. It did not help the pain
he felt. A surreal feeling, a dreamy state in which he was thrown. The world
moved around him without him. he tried to hang on but he was slipping. He
failed to notice the hours, he failed to notice the world around him.

He woken up
from the ground by a knock on the door. A young male voice on the other side.
“room service, can I come in?" Dion regained his ability to walk. He supported
himself on a table handle. “Do you have scotch?" he asked through the door. He
could hear some bottles fumbling around. “Yes" the voice said again. Dion
opened the door to collect the scotch. Before the other could react to his
early drinking he slammed the door. He wasted no time to unscrew the bottle and
put it to his lips. The alcohol burring inside of him. he did not even had
breakfast, he did not care. Another gulp of alcohol down his mouth and into his
stomach. The pleasant warmth spreading around in him. he continued until the
bottle was empty and he was no longer able to know what happened around him.

He must
have made his way to the bed, later that evening he awoke from his bed. He felt
awful, his head was acing and his stomach was rumbling for some food. Hastily
he made himself look more representable. Some fresh cloths and a quick shower.
He head down into the restaurant to get a quick dinner. He downed the dinner
quickly. He did not had any food for a while day, maybe even more. He was not
sure of it, he was not sure of anything. He ordered a bottle of wine and downed
it rather quick to the point the waiters asked if he was al right. Dion excused
himself and charged the meal to his room. Lifeless he sank down on the bed
again. His mind to the divorce papers. He did not want to continue this. He
wanted to be with Rakshasi again, it was not perfect. They were hunted, on the
run. But at least it was a life. He belonged somewhere. His mind slipped off,
he no longer cared what world the dream world was. He only knew this world was
the world that he did not want. He became self-indulged in hatred. He was the
reason why everything was getting ruined. He destroyed a relation and he signed
to destroy a just born live. Even in his dreams he could not escape the grim
fact of his life being destroyed.

He with
little rest, his mind did not let go of the fact that he was a ruined man. Even
if he still gotten his job he would have no friends, not place to stay and no
love. He slowly stumped out of his hotel room. 
The morning sun was glowing warmly over the street. Most people he met
where busy going to work, meeting up friends, shopping. The streets were
crowded. Everyone had a destination, even Dion. He stumped towards the train
station. he could see the looks of passers-by. he looked like a homeless,
drunk, without hope. The large train station came into view. High-speed trains
passed by with only a flash of colours Dion walked to the platforms. A few
train machinists behind him. he could hear their worried voices behind him. It
was nothing but background noise to him as he walked to the tracks. A
determined look on his face. Suddenly one of the machinists shouted to him
“Stop!" Dion turned around, in the distance he could see another high speed
train coming to the station. the machinists quickened to him  “please step away from the tracks sir" they
tried to coax him over. Afraid what might happen if they come any close. Dion
looked into the eyes of the machinists. The train entered the station. He only
gave a faint “I am sorry" before he let himself fall back, on the tracks. He
could hear the sound of metal on metal as the train tried to break, he could
hear the screams and grunts of everyone around him. He could smell the heated
metal, he could…Nothing.

Blackness
overcame him, a void filled him. no vision, no sound, no smell. No concept of a
mind, no concept of a body. He did not felt emotions he did not felt fear. His
mind drifted off into nothingness a void that was shared by nobody. His mind
ebbed away…

Just one
more voice, the only one he really missed. A mind that he wanted to feel again.

“Dion!?"