Peace

"Peace out, old-" was the last thing Vlad heard before he felt his form shrink into the Fenton thermos. He assumed that Daniel was making a crack at his age, as saying "peace out" wasn't a popular saying in this day and age.

But that wasn't his concern right now. He remembered what Skulker told him about the Fenton Thermos, and it made his stomach flip. It felt like walls were compressing on his skin, squeezing him into nothing.

He was blind. He was deaf. If there was a word he knew for not smelling anything he would use it here. Vlad didn't get scared often, but now he felt his dead heart racing in his chest.

If he had a heart. Or veins. Or a body. Because right now he had nothing.

Skulker had told him time didn't exist in the thermos. He claimed it was relaxing, a limbo in which you could restore your energy. Peaceful, even.

But not to a half human. It was disorienting to suddenly feel time freeze around you, your cells no longer duplicating and your lungs caught in an intake of breath.

He wanted to scream, but he couldn't. You can't scream when you're frozen in time.