It was raining, at least, that's what it felt like. It was hot, is rain hot? Jacket couldn't really tell through the mask. He had collapsed on his knees a little while ago, it doesn't rain indoors right?
His chest felt like it was going to collapse on itself, and his brain felt like it was tightening. Was it raining inside his mask too? Rain isn't normally this salty, yet he felt it streaming down his face.
He slowly lowered himself to the ground, and just laid on his side. His arms wrapped around himself tightly, the ground was hard and cold. It was wet on the floor too.
He wasn't sure how long he lay there, or why. But after what could have been days, years, or even lifetimes, he heard a door open. "Anyone alive?!" Jacket vaguely realized this applied to himself, probably, and shifted his arms.
"Oh shit, any of this blood yours?" Blood, so that was the rain. Did he have blood inside the mask too? He pondered on this, until he felt himself convulse and realized it must be tears.
Jacket felt a hand on his side, he didn't even have the energy to react. This is the end, he realized bleakly. He waited for his neck to snap, or for a knife to plunge into his stomach. Instead, he felt his mask being tugged off.
Jacket felt cold air against his face, a sharp contrast to the sweaty and hot sauna he had been in for the past however long. He felt a hand on his chin, tugging his head upward.
He opened his eyes, and squinted against the light. Slowly, a blue blob came into focus. "Come on, let's get you home." He was dragged onto his feet, a deadweight.
His arm around the Biker, he looked around. Dead bodies everywhere, a sea of red.
It had been one of those nights.