Ego Sickness: The Archives.

Bonus Chapter: FR: An Old Friend

This is a canon side-story taking place one week after Lewis was taken by the "organisation." 

Dedicated to a certain Bipedal Sloth, and some random-ass ghost, who won't shut up about Baz.

- Red.

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Diabolical laughter cascaded around the young man's head as the echo of what sounded like an entire chorus of demented, twisted, sadistic creatures howled with glee at his suffering. It was unimaginable how one single entity, one single demon, could create such a horrendously loud and unbearably long screech of monstrous pleasure.

Digging his nails into his scalp with such force that he was drawing blood, The young man desperately attempted to block out the cacophony, screaming to try and drown out the horrid noise that was haunting him. But all of the sounds he made were outside. These noises were all inside of his head, inside of his mind. There was no barricade capable of holding them in, or keeping them out. At least not one that he could create. In fact, the laughter only became louder, mocking him. Within the crescendo-ing cackles, distinct taunts and spiteful words could be heard, reminding him that his bid for freedom was in vain, his attempts were pathetic, and his fate was soon to be sealed.

The worst part was the fact The young man knew they were all true.

It wasn't often that this kind of opportunity would present itself. In fact, it was getting terrifyingly rarer for a situation such as this to unfold. But occasionally - very, very occasionally - there were a few moments in which The young man would break out of his catatonic state of being where he was sealed within his own labyrinth of warped memories. In doing so, he would have an increasingly limited amount of time to escape from his prison of nightmares, finally regain himself. He would become lucid, his true self waking from its hell, his consciousness slowly trickling back into his brain while adrenaline would quickly start to surge around his body.

In his fright, The young man would struggle to flee from an unnatural, maze like place in which he had become unwillingly familiar with. The young man would use all of his highly diminished energy to escape, but escape was something impossible to achieve when you couldn't find the exit. He may have risen from one nightmare, but he had only awoken into another. A lesser nightmare, but a nightmare nonetheless. If where he just escape from was Hell, then this place was best described as Limbo. Purgatory. A world between worlds, a bridge between unconsciousness and consciousness. With his broken mind, he couldn't think with enough clarity to question where it was he may escape to if his attempt to flee would work. All he knew is that he wanted to get out of this place.

"Nowhere to run!" a voice hissed into his ear above the laughter. The young man couldn't hold back the terrified cry that escaped his mouth as he whipped his head to the side, only to be met with the empty sight of one of the countless, crumbling cave-like tunnels he had run through. "Nowhere to hide!" the voice continued, this time whispering into his other ear. Once again, The young man turned to face the source of the noise, but there was nothing to set eyes upon aside from the cracked stone and gloomy halls.

A sharp pain struck across his back as the young man was shoved forward, while something else whipped into his shins. As another force shot into the back of his right knee, The young man crashed to the floor, slamming down into the stone as another weight pinned him. Within a matter of seconds, the young man felt something clamp around his ankles and begin to drag him back the way he had come. Screaming in a mixture of pain, petrification and perseverance, The young man clawed into any surface which he could reach, attempting to locating a slight ridge or hitch which he could grasp onto.