Chapter 1
He who seeks vengeance should dig two graves. One for his enemy and one for his himself – Ancient Chinese Proverb
A woman’s terrified screams shattered the silence. Thomas Haig could hear her panic stricken voice calling his name. The words struck him as if the cold steel of a knife had been plunged deep into his chest. It was a voice that was so familiar and recognisable yet detached and distant. This person in distress was pleading for him to rescue her, to come to her aid and end her suffering. The voice had that unmistakeable tone of fear as the terrified victim continued to call out to him. Thomas knew he had to react, time was short and each passing moment he was closer to losing her. He could feel his panic rising as the pressure mounted for him to act. He was blind, he couldn’t see anything in the deathly blackness surrounding him. He could only hear the voice pleading for his assistance. He tried to move his limbs, to wade through the black shroud surrounding him to reach her. It was impossible, he was immobile, an invisible force restrained his arms and legs. It had clamped them in place; a huge immovable object restrained him to where he was, helpless. He tossed his head from side to side in a vain attempt to break the shackles that bound him. The woman’s voice had become hysterical; the pressure to act was becoming unbearable, Thomas could feel a cold sweat across his brow as he struggled with his invisible constraints. He knew each second was vital and that precious time was slipping away, he had to act now before it was too late. He could sense she didn’t have long, this person who was so precious to him, he must act, he must fight, he had to reach her. Thomas could feel the vice like grip on his arms loosen, he turned violently, he felt a surge of bile into his mouth as his stomach knotted with the anxious nausea of his stress.
Suddenly Thomas was free. His arms and legs were working again and he sat bolt upright, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. He could feel the cold rivulets of sweat snaking their way down his naked back. It took a few moments for the confusion to clear and to realise where he was. He was sat in his bed in his darkened room. He turned to look at the clock face, 4:30am. He took a deep breath and lay down heavily, the tide of panic he had felt ebbed away slowly. He could hear his pulse thumping in his ears, pounding inside his head. He had been dreaming again. The dream that had haunted his conscience for so long now, stalking his sleep and striking without warning. It was his reoccurring nightmare.
Thomas knew it was pointless to try to sleep again; the adrenaline had surged through his nervous system and now he was wide awake, on edge, tense and ready for action. He felt groggy, but pushed his bed clothes to one side and sat up once again. No point lying here he thought to himself. He got out of bed and began to dress, to start another day in isolation.
