Inhale
It was the faint hissing noise that woke him. His body had collapsed into an uneasy slumber after the bloody boy had vanished. Now, he looked around in fear.
The noise was somehow familiar, as if he'd heard it before. The image of the purple masked one danced in his head, surrounded by machines. One seemed to be making the sound.
'A... gas valve...?' He thought, utterly confused. How could there be a gas valve in his tiny cell?
It was then that he realised the burning pain all over his skin. He groaned as it got worse, feeling like a thousand blisters were popping up all over him, ripping up his already damaged legs, his wounds, and every inch of his skin that had been left alone. It hurt, in the most terrible, burning way, as if he'd been returned to the fire. But it wasn't over.
His lungs were on fire. He was drowning again, he couldn't breathe, oh god, he was dying. His body was shaking violently, convulsing on the floor. A low, panicked whine left him, and he realised that it must be gas, some kind of horrid, burning gas. He fought then, with his own body, trying to hold his breath. If he inhaled any more-
"Oh, come on, murderer." The boy's voice rang in his skull, mocking, as he desperately tried not to breath. He could ignore him, he could- "Just let go, you monster. Just inhale, and it's over. You get to die."
"Leave me ALONE!" He screamed, not realising his mistake until he inhaled.
Everything went horribly fuzzy after that.
He was aware of pain, and the sound of gas stopping, and a mask over his mouth and nose. Al he had to do now was breathe. But he couldn't. And so fuzzy grey faded to black.
