Chapter 2

He drifted. His eyes opened to view the whiteness of a ceiling and the coolness of the room. Three times his eyes opened and each time a day passed. 

He saw Melissa smiling at him, drawing him into a room filled with armed men. He couldn't resist her pull; she was stronger than him. The men were all laughing at him. When he finally pulled his hand away from Melissa, they all opened fire.

It was a nightmare.

John opened his eyes. Everything around him was spinning, but it began to settle and come into focus. In the background, he could hear voices that sounded like they were coming from outside his door and approaching his room. 

"Sir, I need to know why you moved him from the hospital. This is our major hideout, and that man is a stranger," a female's voice spoke in a frustrated tone that held a sting of anger.  

The second voice, a deep clear-cut male's voice, responded in plain words, he seemed used to her character and spoke as one would to a daughter throwing a tantrum. "Yes, he is a stranger, and at the same time, he's not a stranger. He's the one I've been looking for," 

The female fell silent.

The ceiling came into focus; it was white. The bones in his body creaked and snapped as muscles were forced to move. The pain was instant as he lifted his head; it made him wince. The bed he lay on, a single hospital bed, was the only thing in the room. He managed to turn his head to the left and right, confirming this. He was shirtless, but the trousers he was changed into were white.

"You'll open all your wounds if you do that," the female voice said.

John scanned the room and located them at the door. The source of the voices: the lady he met in her car at the deserted alley and a huge man with arms that looked like a bear's paws. A human sized hulk, really, and he leaned on the wall beside the door while she made her way to him. He forced himself into a sitting position, letting out a breath he did not know he held. All of his upper body was wrapped up like a mummy shy of the grave, the only visible part was a small snake-shaped birthmark on his right hand. 

The lady reached his side and adjusted the pillow behind him to support his back but when the man spoke, he held attention, his voice cut through the air. Deep and rich.  

"How're you feeling, son? My name is Richard," He said and pointed to the lady. "And that's Alice."

"In a lot of pain, but I'll live,"John replied. He met Alice's unwavering gaze, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and curiosity. "I owe you my life," he said, his voice soft but sincere.

Alice looked at Richard, who simply nodded.

"Welcome home, young master!" Alice said and bowed.

John turned to look behind him, but the pain made him wince. Who was the patient? Them or him, John thought. He blinked twice at Alice's remark.

"Who are you? Where am I?"

"Welcome home, young master," Alice said, her voice carrying an air of formality as she bowed again. Her expression remained icy, giving nothing away. 

Richard's deep, loud laughter echoed through the room. He walked forward, and John shivered, though he hid it by not shrinking from Richard's eye contact.

Richard's hand gently patted Alice on the head, a strange mixture of affection and authority in his touch. "I have a very important task for you. Can I trust you with it?" He asked her. 

Alice's icy demeanor softened as she pouted at him; she nodded. 

Richard shifted his piercing gaze to John. "I am your father, and this facility belongs to our family—the Drakens. Your name is John Draken." To prove his point, in a swift motion, he tore the sleeves of his right arm away; revealing a striking dragon-shaped birthmark.

“But his birthmark looks like that of a snake,” Alice stated while pointing at the sorry snapoe on John's arm. Richard laughed, his fierce stance breaking for a moment.

“You'll see the dragon rise once his body goes through training," Richard replied. He smiled at John's frown. "From this moment forward, you'll be under Alice's guidance. She'll teach you all you need."

"Both of my parents are dead. Don't play jokes with me! I saw it in my file at the orphanage." John almost screamed. 

His frown tilted toward fury so strong, he pushed his body from the bed and stood on shaky legs. The pain came after but he gritted his teeth and took one step at a time. Blood stained his bandages from various covered cuts on his body. Sweat lined his forehead with each muscle jerk from his legs. He took in a deep breath, standing before Richard. John levelled a gaze to match Richard's hard stare. From the corner of his eyes he saw Alice move his drip stand closer.  

"Yes, that's what's there. At the time, it was necessary to do that. You were our most precious gift, and those days were very dangerous."

"Yeah, to save my life, you discarded me to the slums."

"Yes, we did," Richard said. "Every heir faced a similar situation. A hard life equipped us to handle tough decisions, but -"Richard trailed, pulling at the extra fat on John's arm, "- for you, there's a lot more to lose."

John snatched his hand out from Richard's grip. Father and son stared down at each other.

"I'm not staying here," John said. "I'll go out and handle my business by myself. I don't need you hovering over me."

John removed the drip and tossed it aside. He turned away and limped toward the door. 

Richard nodded at Alice.

It was quick. One moment, John was staring at the door’s nob and in the next, he was slammed hard on the floor as the white ceiling replaced his view. A deep hiss escaped his lips as pain rocked his body. Alice dropped down beside him.

The ceiling blurred in John's eyes. John frowned when Richard's face came into view above him.

“Why did you do that?" He asked.

Richard shook his head. "At this moment, you wouldn't stand a chance against a rookie," Richard said, his voice carrying a mix of concern and frustration. John could see the anger in his father's furrowed brow and clenched fist. 

Richard continued. "The person who attempted to end your life leads Spectre, a dangerous gang in this city. Leaving this place in your current state would be nothing short of a death wish. Recover and train. We'll talk when you're strong enough to move without leaving a trail of blood."

John kept quiet. He watched Richard walk out of the room.

"What?" John whispered. "Who does he think he is?"

"Your father," Alice coughed. John looked at her but she returned a cold gaze. "I'll put you through a series of training once your body can handle it."

"I like my round body."

"Too weak."

John shook his head and kept silent. He was resigned to his fate. 

Alice went on. "I looked into Xavier and Melissa. They've gone into hiding, but a few things have happened over the past three days. Three banks downtown were hit and cleared overnight, and there's no major lead."

Melissa's laughter filled his mind, that sweet beautiful melody, turning and changing into dread as anger flowed in his veins. He attempted to sit but groaned in pain. 

"When do we start training?" He asked.

Alice poked him. He recoiled from her touch. 

"Hey!" John said, his fist tightening. 

"Right now, you'll die if we begin. You'll start after you've recovered."

John closed his eyes, seeing Melissa's grin and Xavier's laughing face. He knew they would haunt his dreams tonight, but he'd let them, and one day he'd get his revenge.

"Why do you think she did it?" John's voice quivered as he asked, his eyes searching Alice's face for answers. Her puzzled expression mirrored his own confusion.

"Why do you think Melissa betrayed me?" He asked again. Pain welled up inside him, and he fought to keep his composure, blinking back tears that threatened to escape. Crying in front of a lady was not something he intended to do.

Alice remained silent, her gaze shifting towards the hanging drip. Her eyes conveyed a sense of understanding, even if her words did not. "You'll have to ask her when you've recovered. For now, let's focus on getting you back in proper shape."

On the floor in the little room, between them there was a long silence. 

Alice met John's gaze with a cold look. "Richard is overjoyed by your return; don't disappoint him."

John's laughter filled the room, but there was a bitter edge to it. "Right now, I couldn't care less about Richard or the Draken family. They abandoned me."

Ignoring his response, Alice continued, her voice unwavering.

"Richard wants to launch an all-out assault on their hideouts, wipe them out. But he's waiting for your decision."

John's tone turned sardonic. 'Why would I ever agree to that? I want them to endure the agony I've endured. They took three years to break me; I'll take a decade to make them regret the day they were born"'

With determined effort, John forced himself to sit up, despite the pain coursing through his body, and then lay back on the bed. Alice fixed his IV drip, silently monitoring his progress. Satisfied that everything was proceeding as it should, she exited the room. John closed his eyes, preparing to confront the inevitable nightmares that would follow. He knew he would face them alone.