Work Text:
Cold.
Why was it so cold.
He couldn't think.
He couldn't see.
All he heard was laughter -- It's sickening laughter echoing through his mind like a stray bullet, ripping and tearing his fragile thoughts apart.
The ringing didn't help either.
He couldn't move. Something was holding him down.
He was scared. So... So... Scared.
Soft green lights, almost like little orbs. They clouded his sights of the few things he could see... But somehow they were alluring to him, casting a thick fog through his mind yet still managing to send tsunamis of fear and anxiety throughout his body. He didn't know what was happening. And despite how hard they whoever this even was were trying to make the situation seem safe, his instincts were screaming at him to just run. His fearful subconscious begging him to just send a rocket flying to his attacker's face and GET OUT OF THERE.
But he can't even sit up on his own, let alone pick up his gear.
His 'fight or flight' instincts were no use to him at the moment. All they were doing was worsening his fear, and he couldn't do a single thing about that.
He could feel himself slump down against a brick wall -- the cold, grainy surface of the bricks pressing against his spine. All the wounds that were scattered across his body stung from the contact, most of the wounds exposed underneath his now tattered clothing. The sensation was uncomfortable, to say the least. At least the rain (Or, what he thinks is rain.) was helping to run the blood and grime off of the large gashes and cuts all over his body.
His vision was beginning to blur even more than it had already, slowly fading out to nothing as the laughter died down into playful chuckles. The last thing he had seen (Well, the last thing he remembers seeing at least.) were strange lime markings glowing brightly in the center of his fore arm, the intricate markings coming together to shape a ring that was seemingly hovering above his skin.
The ringing finally stopped.
(THIS ISN'T EVEN FINISHED BTW SO SORRY)