Then, finally…
His head broke through the surface of the water, and Mordret drew in a feverish breath.
The shore seemed terribly far, but he managed to reach it, somehow, after all.
Dragging himself and the driver onto the ground, Mordret fell down, utterly spent.
He was so cold.
Taking several hoarse breaths, he pushed himself off the ground and bent over the driver.
"Hey… hey, are you…"
Was he dead?
Paralyzed by fear, Mordret lightly slapped the man across the cheek.
To his great relief, the driver groaned, coughed out a mouthful of water, and slowly opened his eyes.
Mordret let out a relieved sigh.
"Thank the gods!"
But then… something about the driver felt off.
His eyes grew strangely glassy, full of something unfamiliar and cold.
In the next moment, the man's gloved hand closed around Mordret's neck.
'What…'
Suddenly ferociously... inhumanly... strong, the driver strangled Mordret while pulling him down to the ground and climbing atop of him.
Wide-eyed, Mordret tried to pry the man's hands off his neck, but it was of no use. It was as if his neck was being squeezed by an iron vice, seconds away from snapping.
Even if his neck somehow survived, he would be strangled to death before too long.
'What is…'
As he struggled desperately, hopelessly, Mordret's vision started to darken for the second time today. The driver's eerie, glassy eyes were the only thing he saw.
'N—no...'
It was then that a shadow suddenly covered them, and something cold flashed in the air.
Hot blood splattered across Mordret's face, and he suddenly could breathe again.
Pushing the driver away, he climbed back and saw a slender figure leaning over the crazed man. A sharp knife flashed again, plunging into the driver's flesh once more. More blood spilled onto the wet ground.
The figure twisted the knife, then coldly kicked the man in the wounded side, throwing him back into the water.
"W—who…"
The knife-wielding stranger was standing with his back to Mordret, wearing a cheap, ragged raincoat and an unassuming cap. Countered against the gray sky and the dark line of the distant bridge, his tall figure seemed both threatening and strangely familiar.
Finally, the stranger turned around and looked down at Mordret, his cold gaze full of irritation and contempt.
Mordret flinched as he saw the stranger's face.
…His own face.
As the stranger leaned down, blood still dripping from his hands, Mordret remained frozen in place. His reflection was pale and shocked in the other Mordret's mirror-like eyes.
The other's face split into a pleasant smile, and he whispered into Mordret's ear, his insidious voice full of barely contained hatred:
"Hey, wastrel… can't you even keep yourself alive? You weak, worthless fool. Do I have to do everything for you?"
The tip of the knife bit vindictively into Mordret's cheek, leaving a shallow cut on it.
There were shouts and the sound of sirens in the distance.
…By the time he could finally move, the other was already gone, as if he had never existed.
Raising a shaking hand, Mordret touched his cheek.
His hand came down bloody.
Looking at the blood smeared across his fingers...
Mordret suddenly smiled brightly.
"He's back!"