He jerks his head a bit, as if he's trying to nod and isn't quite using the right muscles. His eyes open and he stares dully at the ground before closing them again. A groan of pain ekes out of his chest, but other than that he's mostly quiet. He register that Tony's patting him on the shoulder, and that that hurts too, but he doesn't resist it.
Try and relax. Try not to panic about how helpless he is right now, how anything could happen and he could be dead in a second, about how it doesn't actually matter because he'll be dead soon anyway. And he has no idea what comes after that. He doesn't have religion to cling to.
Maybe death is just being buried alive and helpless to stop it, like the zombie girl they kept in their basement. Maybe he'll wake up in the pitch black under feet of dirt and have to worm and claw his way to the surface. The image of her flashes in his mind, of the dirt stuck in her teeth and the blood around her cuticles.
The convulsions begin as if a physical response to thinking of that nightmarish memory. His eyes go wide and his body spasms, completely beyond his control. He makes a choking sound as the saliva on his cheek is joined by more froth.
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Try and relax. Try not to panic about how helpless he is right now, how anything could happen and he could be dead in a second, about how it doesn't actually matter because he'll be dead soon anyway. And he has no idea what comes after that. He doesn't have religion to cling to.
Maybe death is just being buried alive and helpless to stop it, like the zombie girl they kept in their basement. Maybe he'll wake up in the pitch black under feet of dirt and have to worm and claw his way to the surface. The image of her flashes in his mind, of the dirt stuck in her teeth and the blood around her cuticles.
The convulsions begin as if a physical response to thinking of that nightmarish memory. His eyes go wide and his body spasms, completely beyond his control. He makes a choking sound as the saliva on his cheek is joined by more froth.