[18] Hungover or Hangover?

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The air was cold, the sounds of raindrops and occasional thunder disturbing his sleep.

Ayato stirred, feeling disoriented. Rain trickled down his face, and shivers coursed through him. As consciousness returned in fragments, he struggled to recall what had happened.

Realisation hit him like an electric shock, and he jolted awake, his eyes snapping open. He pushed himself up with effort, taking in his surroundings, and found himself in the garbage site.

"What the..." Ayato muttered with a look of disbelief etched on his face.

Instinctively, he reached for the back of his head, recoiling at the touch of the wound. Pulling his hand back, he was startled at the sight of blood.

That's right, he had been attacked earlier that night.

The thought led him back to that house, to the moment of the assault when he tried to escape the clutches of that man.

Did that mean that he had gone back to that night?

It was raining, just like it had back then.

As Ayato pieced the clues together, his gaze fell on the man standing in the distance. As expected, the stalker was digging a hole, seemingly preparing a makeshift grave.

His breath hitched. How was this possible? That man was supposed to be dead. Ayato wasn't supposed to be here. Feeling a sense of dread wash over him, he struggled to stand, feeling relatively better than that fateful night, his wounds less painful. It felt surreal, like a dream.

A sense of curiosity enveloped him as he watched the man shovel through the dirt. As Ayato observed, he noticed something strange. Rather than digging, it seemed he was covering the ground with dirt.

Unable to help himself, Ayato carefully approached the figure, peering beside him to get a closer look at the sight. Once he neared him, Ayato took a glance, his face paling.

There, before him, lay his dead body, partially covered in dirt and debris. As Ayato stepped back, eyes trained on his ghostly face staring back at him, he felt his body going into a state of shock.

What the hell?

Was he dead? Was this what was going to happen to him?

His thoughts spun as a searing headache hit him. In his panicked state, the sound of laughter echoed, drawing his attention ahead.

The stalker's malicious grin greeted him as the man raised a bat, charging towards him.

"There you are!"

Unable to avoid the blow, Ayato dodged clumsily, stumbling and falling. He plummeted into the open grave, landing with a heavy thud atop the corpse.

Except, it wasn't his face that met his gaze.

It was the stalker's.

As he recoiled, Ayato snapped his gaze back and found himself staring at the bat coming down towards him. Its impact was a sickening crack echoing in the air before everything went dark.

A blood-curdling scream pierced the air, and Ayato's eyes snapped open, blinking through tears. His frantic gaze darted around, attempting to discern his surroundings as his mind went blank. He struggled to get up, clutching onto anything for support. Suddenly, a firm grip seized his arms, and instinctively, he pushed away.

"Let go! Get off me!" Ayato yelled out, his strength no match for the person holding him as he thrashed around.

"Ayato, calm down! Look at me!" The voice called out in worry, a stern tone trying to bring him back.

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