Plasma
Rain. That was all he could make out. Rain lots of rain. The rapid but steady patter filled the gray world. Slowly he forced his swollen eyes open. He lay on a hard cold surface that did nothing to hide the strange color of blood and water mixing together on the concrete. He breathed the musty are into his lungs as he tried to raise himself up. He was quickly forced back down by a numbing pain that vibrated from his bleeding shoulder. Where his shoulder lay there was sticky purple puddle of blood. He could not get up, he could not sit up so he just lay there and stared up at the gray sky. He never could remember how long he lay there. Be it hours, days, weeks, time meant nothing. Then a faint light appeared behind him, two lights and growing staidly stronger.
