Bearclaw Valley institutionalized

For awhile there was a will within Abel to make an escape. Granted, it was nothing more than wild fantasies. Ones where he’d gather strength from an inexplicable source, run faster than the winter winds, take out as many pursuers as he and his sister fled towards a beacon of freedom. Laurel would be there ready to embrace them.
It’s only a fantasy though. One far out of reach for someone in his state, both physically and mentally. This reality crushed him slowly as the weeks gone by. 
At this point his will had been entirely squashed. He lay in tumbleview day in and day out. His eyes were constantly raw from a seemingly never ending flow of tears. His screams could be heard at odd hours of the night as he is ripped from nightmares. They were all different in their own little ways, but they shared a constant. One glowing eye, a flaming orange, nearly red. Attached to the form of a beast. He’s always there. Always watching. 
He’s here now, lurking in the dark. Coming closer, closer. Closer to him. He’s running. Coming for him —


A series of screams wrenched their way out of Abel’s throat. He jerked upward, his eyes wildly searched through midnight’s darkness. There was nothing to be seen. It was only another nightmare.