Master : One last Shot

Chapter 1 (final part)

As my consciousness faded away, I began to see strange visions in my mind.

There was a dark and menacing feeling that surrounded me, as if my surroundings were shifting and warping. I felt a strong sense of danger, but I didn't know what was happening or what would happen next.

Suddenly, I felt a sense of dread, like something horrible was about to happen to me. This was an unknown future, and my fate was now uncertain.

I slowly opened my eyes, trying to take in my surroundings.

I was no longer in my grandma's house. In fact, I wasn't even in my own home. I struggled to comprehend where I was, but one thing was for certain - I was alive.

The first thing I saw was my dad, sitting beside my bed.

I slowly sat up, still disoriented by the events that had taken place.

My dad was sitting on a chair next to my bed, sipping a beer from a can. He didn't seem to notice that I had woken up, but his silence was all I could focus on.

"Dad?" I whispered, wanting confirmation that this was real and not a dream.

I tried to get my dad's attention, but it seemed like he was in a world of his own.

"Dad, can you hear me?" I whispered again, hoping for a response, but he remained mute.

"Am I a ghost?" I questioned, unsure of what else to think. If this wasn't real, then what else could it be?

" son of a bitch...." Said dad , it was clear that he was angry about something

My heart dropped as I heard what my dad had said. His anger took me off-guard, and I didn't know how to react.

"Dad?" I tried saying his name again, to see if he would respond this time. But it was just his angry muttering that caught my attention.

He stood up and walked out of my room-I got up, still a bit wobbly on my feet, and I quickly followed behind as he stepped out of my room.

I didn't know what was going through his mind in this moment, but I could feel his anger radiating from his every step.

As I walked behind him, I could start to hear his muttering once again "Son of a..." I couldn't make out the rest of the words, but it was clear that he was still furious over something.

I began to take in my surroundings, as I realized that I wasn't in my own bedroom or house.

It seemed like I was in some kind of hotel room, the decor and setup reminded me of one. It was quiet and peaceful, a stark contrast to what I had just experienced with my grandparents.

But my thoughts were quickly interrupted, as I heard my dad mumbling again from down the hallway.

"Son of a..."

It was the same sentence as before, and he continued with his muttering, with each step he took.

"Son of a..." Each word was punctuated with anger and rage, and it was clear that he was still full of fury over something.

I didn't understand why he was so angry, and I had a feeling that I wouldn't like the answer if I found out.

But I had to know either way, so I followed him out into the hallway.

My dad was a shell of his normal self. His expression was blank and dull, as if he had been through something that had completely drained him emotionally and mentally.

He was still muttering under his breath, his face filled with anger and frustration. Even now, I couldn't make out what he was saying, but I had a feeling that it was something bad. His tone of voice made it clear that he was dealing with some kind of intense emotion.