#WakeUpMartin
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Wake Up, Martin. (2)
Fighting against his command, shakes whilst reaching his cup. Still attempting to understand, his thought ends abrupt...
"Martin, Did you know that man?" Asks Alexa, on the other side of the booth.
"No... I can't say I do." Says Martin, sorely confused. "He seemed familiar... though I have no proof." He takes a swig of the cup, though his grip is still loose.
She holds out her hands and grabs on to his. Strengthening his grip as he sips.
"Thank you." He smiles.
Alexa nods. "This whole thing just seems so odd. Why would somebody attack you? What would he want?"
He didn't know how to respond, but the memory still haunts.
Martin recalls what the man said, "I offer release.", repeating the line in his head, he tightens his fist.
"Perhaps some cultist freak..." Spiraling. "...Or or maybe some disgusting thief! Like the ones on T.V., a disease of these streets! How should I know him or his beliefs! Why should I be targeted for his vile misdeeds? How could I..." Crying. "... how could I just sit there and watch him retreat? What would have happened if nobody seen...?"
She squeezes his hand gently.
"...should have stayed asleep." he panders sheepishly.
"Martin."
Immediately looks to his feet. Letting the tears stream off of his cheek.
"It's okay, Martin, you're safe here with me. I can take you back home after you finish your tea."
He shakes away the tears, calmly breathes, finishes his drink before they leave.
Getting into her car, he finally feels at ease...
"Your soul shall be relieved." Says the figure from rooftops peak, overlooking their car pull into the street. Lowering his hood, grinding his teeth.
"It is your destiny, next time we meet."
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