postictal: (we donated last year thank you though)
Tim W█████ ([personal profile] postictal) wrote in [community profile] rapturecity 2015-10-26 12:34 am (UTC)

tw: flashbacking, fear of drowning, gore mention, dissociation

After emerging from the horribly cramped little sphere, gasping and shivering and soaked to the bone, exploring was really, honestly the last thing on Tim's mind. Not when only twenty-four hours prior he'd rammed a sliver of knife into another man's throat, over and over again, gutted him alive until he was up to his elbows in that thick, hot rush of scarlet.

This isn't right. This isn't right.

It should be gone, shouldn't it? He took care of it. He cut its puppet's strings, and it should be over. But he'd just gone from one nightmare to the next, from derelict school walls to seething, storm-tossed, oil-dark water that tumbled him ruthlessly from waves to the hard sea-slick steps at the base of the lighthouse that loomed right the hell out of nowhere.

Was this another one of its - games, tricks, whatever they are? Another hole in reality to go taunting at him through? It feels too solid, too real. He keeps expecting the ground to warp away with each stumbling step, but the apparition remains horrifyingly tangible.

Some kind of protest is happening in the square. He glances left and right, grimacing with a sickening lurch in his gut when he realizes that practically everyone is in the same kind of old-time-y clothing, and he's starkly out of place.

Tim withdraws, pressing himself against the glass separating him from the water that stretches onward, upward, forever and further. He's shaking, shaking too hard to retrieve the bottle of white capsules form his pocket. He braces fingers against his temples and hunches until he's nearly doubled-over in agony.

His head. Oh god, his head.

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