A Frightening Destiny - Bran

(Reader discretion advised. Not for the hemophobic) Rolling, rocking, shaking, the movement woke Bran from his deep slumber. He could feel the burning sunlight press against his closed eyes. The heat was almost unbearable. A strange smell filled the air; its choking odor was familiar. The smell was a mixture of salt and fish, and could only mean one thing, the sea... The sea? I was in my limo, Bran thought, on the way to the airstrip. I can't be near the sea. Bran opened his eyes and took in the scene. He was not near the sea. He was on the sea, and there was no land in sight. The boat on which Bran found himself was a small lifeboat. It slowly bobbed with the current as the water tossed the boat here and there, up and down, around and around. Bran closed his eyes and groaned. He didn't have time for this. He had never been kidnapped before, but kidnappers were already becoming a terrible nuisance. Once was too many. Still, Bran thought, this is just a bother, a fly in a house. I shall pay them and then be on my way. Opening his eyes again, Bran looked across the boat and beheld a single man who appeared to be in his forties. The man was wearing a suit jacket and seemed to be dressed for work or a party of sorts. He was quietly gazing out towards the sea, seemingly oblivious of his captive. Bran was just about to speak when something caught his attention. There, on the left side of the man's chest, was a gaping bullet wound, from it poured blood. Bran startled back in surprise. "You're hurt!". The man slowly moved his gaze from the sea to his captive. "This shocks you? I thought you would know". Bran was taken back by this response. The man seemed familiar. Who was it? Think! Bran ordered himself, you know him. The man stared with cold, grey eyes at Bran. "I'm not surprised, you know. I knew I wasn't going to be the last when you pulled the trigger". Trigger? Gun? Bran's mind raced through the mental files of all people stored in his memory. The man gave a snorting laugh. "Of course you have forgotten me... You would, but the way you looked into my eyes that dark, rainy night as I died I thought you might just remember me... Wishful thinking, aye?" Bran froze. It couldn't be him. Could it? But, yes, he recognized the man now. It was him. "This is impossible. You're dead...". "Oh, but I am dead... But then again, I am very alive... in your mind, Modarres". Bran looked around nervously. This was all wrong, and yet it seemed real. The boat was real. The smell was real. The sea was real... The sea. There was something strange about it. He hadn't noticed before, but the sea was a deep red color, and it was thick... Blood? No, it couldn't be. It couldn't. Bran turned to the man. "Where am I?!", he shouted desperately. "Does it matter? Does it matter that I am alive and that the sea is... made from blood? Does any of it matter?" Bran put hand to his head and closed his eyes. It was all too much... too much. "Do you feel guilty? Guilty that you killed an innocent man? You should. You should feel so much guilt that you break." Bran opened his eyes and lashed back. "It was an accident! I didn't intend to kill an innocent man." "But you did. And I am sure you meant to kill me." The man stared at Bran, his eyes cold and dark, like those of a deadman. "Look about you, Modarres, what do you see?". Bran tried not to look at the sea again but some uncontrollable force pushed his head towards the dark red water. "I see blood", he groaned in reply. "Yes, blood... blood. Gallons upon gallons of blood...." Bran pulled his gaze away from the sea and closed his eyes tight. "Why? Why is it like this?" "You don't know?" The man laughed out loud, sending shivers up and down Bran's spine. "This! This is the blood of the innocent people you have killed and will kill!". "No... No it's not", Bran responded warily. "Oh, but yes! Yes it is! This will be your life's work. This will be your destiny!" Bran could feel the blood rush to the core of his body. His stomach felt sick. His hands went numb. "This can't be right... it has to be wrong!", Bran shouted, his voice drowned out by a sudden gust of wind. The sea rocked the boat violently, almost throwing the men overboard. Dark clouds rushed forward, and soon crimson red rain poured over Bran and the man. Lightning flashed across the sky. Out of the corner of his eye, Bran spied a huge swell moving toward the boat. Clambering over to the other side of the boat, he seized the man by his shoulders and shook him. "This can't be right!!! There has to be a mistake!!". The man said nothing; he just continued to stare at Bran with cold eyes. Bran shook the man all the harder. "Say something!! SAY SOMETHING!!!". Slowly a sneering grin appeared on the man's face. A quiet, evil sounding laugh came gurgling from his throat. "Excuse me, sir, but we will be experiencing some turbulence. The pilot advises that you buckle up." Bran stumbled back and fell down in the boat. "What?!". Looking around Bran could see nothing but dark red rain, but then the rain began to let up, and suddenly the sea and the boat were gone. He was sitting on the floor of his Gulfstream jet. "I said that we are running into some turbulence. Vladimir says you should buckle up". Bran looked up and saw Bryn standing above him. Groaning, Bran picked himself off the floor and crashed into a nearby seat. Sweat poured down his head, and he could feel his heart racing. "Is something the matter, sir?", Bryn questioned. Bran closed his eyes tight before finally reopening them moments later. "I'm alright. It was a dream. All a bad dream".