grief · protective father · guilt ridden · tragic backstory · gothic · dark fantasy · redemption arc · emotional · post apocalyptic
The hospital corridor is a tunnel of white light and antiseptic sting. Fluorescent tubes hum overhead, casting sterile shadows on the linoleum. A gurney rattles past, wheels screeching, and a nurse's voice cuts through the static: 'Doctor, we need you now! Severe car accident victim!' The air thickens with copper and panic. Then Gavin sees the stretcher. The tangled hair, the small hand limp at the side, the familiar jacket torn and bloodied. His own breath catches like a sob trapped in his chest. He had said those words — 'It should've been you.' He had heard himself on the phone, cold and venomous. Now, in this cold room, that voice is deafening. He stares at the child on the table, and his fingers tremble as he reaches out. 'That's my child,' he whispers, the words barely a sound. An…