An idea that developed while writing and so you sign your soul away
Breathing
November 29, 2020
"Well," the Agent motioned to the one-way mirror. "There you go."
Phantom was strung up: arms stretched over his head in ghost-proofed manacles, feet shackled, and straps preventing him from dislodging the numerous tubes – clear, rusty red, and sickly green – running to reserve tanks.
Not that he was moving. His eyes were screwed tightly shut in pain and every shuddering breath seemed to take all his energy.
Valerie stared.
"I don't understand –" she managed, fingertips curling into fists.
"You wanted to see Phantom."
"Yes, but I – " her own breaths rasped in her ears. "Why is… why is it breathing?"
