The Warm Algorithm

Chapter 38: Lingering Shadows

Calix stirred under the soft sheets, her eyelids fluttering as sleep pulled her under again.

The dream came suddenly, vivid and cold. She was standing in a dimly lit room, the air heavy with silence. A woman lay on the floor, motionless, blood pooling around her like dark liquid mirrors.

Calix's breath caught. The scene was hauntingly familiar, the satin robe, the lifeless body, the way the shadows fell across the floor. Her chest tightened.

Then she noticed him. Lucien. Standing at the edge of the room, his expression unreadable, dark, intense. His eyes were fixed on her... on the body.

A chill ran down her spine. She took a step closer and froze. The lifeless woman on the floor... her face. Her own face.

"No..." she whispered, her voice barely audibles as the reality of the vision hit her. She reached toward the figure, but her arms felt heavy, unresponsive.

Lucien stepped closer, his presence suffocating, yet magnetic. "Calix..." his voice was low, almost a growl, carrying a weight that made her stomach twist. "It's... you."

The room seemed to pulse, the shadows breathing, twisting. Calix tried to move, tried to call out, but only a strangled sound escaped her lips.

As she looked down at herself again, the lifeless image on the floor, her own pulse raced. Fear, confusion, and a strange, inescapable sense of inevitability wrapped around her.

Then the dream shifted, Lucien's gaze burning into hers, possessive and obsessive. She tried to scream but the sound never came.

The room dissolved into darkness, and Calix jolted awake, heart hammering, sheets tangled around her limbs. Sweat dampened her hair, and her breath came in shallow, quick gasps.

Her eyes darted to the side Lucien was still asleep beside her, peaceful, unaware of the vision that had gripped her so tightly. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her racing thoughts. The dream lingered, cold and vivid, leaving her with a single, haunting question: 

Why did she see herself like that?

Calix stayed awake longer than she intended, the vivid remnants of the dream clinging to her like a shadow. She pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to shake the cold sense of dread, but the image of herself lying lifeless on the floor refused to fade.

Lucien shifted beside her in sleep; one arm draped over her waist. The warmth of his body should have been comforting, yet the memory of the dream made her chest tighten. She looked at him, at the serene, unknowing expression on his face, and felt a strange, jarring mix of comfort and unease.

"Why that dream..." she whispered to herself, though the words were lost in the quiet apartment. She could still feel the weight of Lucien's gaze from the dream, possessive and intense, as if he knew something she did not.

Her fingers unconsciously traced the outline of his hand on her waist, grounding herself. He murmured in his sleep, a low, almost predatory sound that sent a shiver down her spine. It reminded her, Lucien's obsession wasn't just for comfort. It was consuming, protective, possessive, and sometimes... frightening in its intensity.

Calix leaned against him slightly, trying to draw some sense of safety from his presence. "It's just a dream." she whispered again, repeating it as if the mantra could exorcise the lingering fear.

But the image of herself on that cold, bloodied floor lingered, persistent and accusing. She couldn't help but feel the thread of inevitability weaving itself through her thoughts, the same inevitability that seemed to shadow Lucien, that same obsession that both protected and confined her.

As the city lights outside glimmered faintly against the curtains, Calix let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes, trying to convince herself that it was just a dream.

Yet deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that the dream wasn't only a warning, it was a mirror, reflecting something dark that was coming, something she had no power to stop...