It was dark. Pitch black, if one wished to be specific. He couldn't see anything. Were his eyes even open? If they weren't, then he certainly couldn't do anything about it. His eyelids, if closed, weren't opening. He could hear vague sounds, but nothing specific. It was all too fuzzy, just like his mind. What happened? Am I dead? Where -?
His thoughts were cut off by the pain – the searing pain that made him feel like he was burning alive from the inside. Some detached, rational part of his brain pointed out that if he was in such pain than he definitely was alive. He felt as though his entire body were being stabbed with millions of long, sharp needles. But his hands, the feeling in his hands was worse than anything he could imagine. It was worse than even the pain he was feeling coursing through the rest of his nerves. Even if he could move his limbs, he certainly wasn't going to try now. He couldn't feel his hands.
He could hear a new sound though. A muffled sound that stopped when he took a breath. Then he realized. He was screaming.