Trevor was running down a paved street riddled with potholes, which was dimly lit by far spaced streetlights. He didn't know why he was running, or what he was running from, all he could feel was the urgency to escape, and though he was running at full speed, he felt that urgency grow with each step. Trevor came to a stop, unable to run anymore, he turned and look down the street, it was empty apart from the twisted shadows and dull lights mingling on the streets. Just as he was about to breath a sigh of relief he felt a sharp hot pain in his chest growing rapidly. He was frozen, all he could do was look down in horror and clawed hands ripped open his chest, one would reach up and grab his throat, a deep voice that echoed with malice seemed to speak all around him "You are mine.."<br/><br/>Trevor sat up in bed with a start, his hand grabbing the silver knife that he always kept within arms reach, and the touch of the cool metal settled him. He had not had that nightmare since he first escaped the orphanage. It has always been the same, but never before has the nightmare been so vivid, so real. He touched his hand to his chest just to reassure himself that it was still whole.<span style="font-style: italic">You're just shaken up by what happened today</span>Trevor tried to reassure himself that the reoccurrence of the nightmare was just a result of his meeting with Marcus, but that did little to calm him. He looked at the digital clock on the end table, he had gotten a full hour of sleep.<br/><br/>He stood and walked to the bathroom, stripping to his birthday suit and starting a hot shower, hoping that the burn would make him forget the nightmare. Even as the water cascaded down his back and across his face he could have swore he still felt the hole in his chest, and that voice kept on echoing in his mind<span style="font-style: italic">You are mine.</span>Trevor dried himself off and dressed, he needed a drink to get his mind off of things. He walked out of the hotel, and walked to the bar.