((After Shadow, Purge, and Revenge))

Jake found it strange he kept having this dream, and even though he tried to make sense of it, nothing came to mind. He watched the same figure over and over again, never able to piece together who it might have been, and even after the dreams kept recurring, and the figure seemed to come more and more into focus, he still couldn't guess.

Though the several times he had tried to go closer, he found himself unable to move, as whenever he did, he would find that the dream no longer persisted, darkness replaced the light, and he'd find himself in his room, Sherry still asleep beside him. At that point, he had just written it off as some sort of strange hallucination, probably exhaustion and fatigue coupled with the weird stuff they already go through on a daily basis, and drifted to a light sleep, void of any strange shadows as he reminded himself it was nothing but fake.

This time, it seemed the shadow could move, albeit at a speed that should have been humanely impossible. He couldn't help but flinch as it came closer, mere inches from his face, and the buzzing/crackling sound seemed to grow clearer in volume, though still muffled.

Can you hear me?

Jake flinched at the voice, pulling back, though it seemed it was unnecessary as the figure already moving away. Though it had alarmed him, it had also piqued his curiosity, and despite himself, Jake tried to go closer, as the voice was already starting to fade.

Oh my god. You - you have to help me. I have to get out of here! Please, just --

Help...

Wait!

This time he was running, caution cast aside. He had doubted once before, and it nearly cost him a life. He knew as a death hunter, precaution saved lives. Information was important, but he couldn't stop the nagging feeling that was welling up inside; that if he hesitated for just a moment, he would lose them. Forever.

The voice faded, but another beckoned. One more familiar. Feminine.
Jake whirled around, recognizing the voice.

... Nevada?
He was breaking into a sprint now, trying to locate where the sound was coming from.
Nevada, dammit, stop hiding, this isn't funny!
She had always teased him relentlessly, and it had always irritated and frustrated him. At least, it had in the past. Now, he found himself missing the brash annoying hunter, and wished she was here, teasing him as she had before, scolding him for neglecting Sherry again.

Nevada!
Why couldn't he find her? Surely she didn't just up and disappear... did she? Maybe if he asked Stormy...

Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks.
In front of him, were 4 hunters lying on top of beds, battered and exhausted. They were covered in wounds, from scratches to bite marks, and all had a defeated and dejected look on their faces. If he didn't know any better, he could have sworn some of them were crying.

But why were they...
He turned, and found himself fixated on a single item.
A cracked mask.
... that's right, Nevada was...

Memories flashed through his mind, memories of something once forgotten.
Something... important.

The reason Catherine was no longer here. The reason why his clothes were stained with blood. The reason why that body in the dark cove was missing a head.

They were all dead.
People didn't just up and disappear.

The reason why he was lying in a pool of his own blood in the Sahara, the reason why he feared the horsemen when he had gotten captured. The reason why he had feared when he found Sherry in the clutches of one.

It was because of death. He was dying. He feared dying.
He feared DEATH.

There was the sound of something shattering, and he found an irrational anger welling up inside of him. It was because of them that he feared death, because they kept threatening him. Because he was weak, and they wanted to take advantage of him, and because he lacked the power to protect those closest to him, they were always taken away. Not even that, but they had TRIED to make him forget what it had meant to die. They had made him forget the implication of death, and treat it as if it was nothing special, that it was ok for him to forget. They tried to explain death away by saying it was something that just... happened.

The logic didn't even make sense anymore, whether he was mad that the fact that he feared death, or that he had forgotten the fear of death. He was just ANGRY, and he wanted to lash out, at anyone, at EVERYONE.

The anger boiled up inside, seeking release.
It boiled over, and shattered with a single scream.