Alex Stern

Darlington sleeps, drifts, his own dreams odd and fractured things. He's running down the long corridors of Black Elm, going nowhere, and though he's alone he can hear the sound of someone else. Someone familiar, gasping for breath. It takes him a minute to realize it's Alex, and a minute longer to understand the sound isn't a product of his subconscious. He wakes up, sits up, already reaching for her.

"Alex, what..." In the dark, his fingers brush something harder than skin, jagged edges covered in something sticky, and he jerks his hand reflexively away. "Alex?"