Taken

Pain

Izuku Midoriya's body felt like a battleground of pain. The constant ache from his primary injuries was an unyielding torment, each movement a reminder of the League's relentless cruelty. It was as if a thousand thorns pierced his flesh, the pain gnawing at him like a relentless beast, leaving him feeling like a shattered statue crumbling under the weight of its suffering.

In the dimly lit room, the shadows seemed to mock him, dancing around him like malevolent spirits. The walls felt like suffocating cages, closing in on him like the jaws of a relentless predator. Every breath was a struggle, as if the air itself was tainted with despair.

Izuku curled up on the cold floor, feeling like a lost soul in a desolate wasteland. The isolation was a tangible weight on his chest, crushing him like an avalanche of darkness. It was as if he had been cast adrift in a boundless void, severed from the world he once knew.

The pain of his injuries roared like a raging inferno, engulfing his senses and leaving him feeling like he was drowning in an ocean of agony. The sensation was suffocating, as if he were trapped in an ever-tightening vice, his strength slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers.

In the solitude of his torment, doubt crept in like a venomous serpent, whispering insidious lies that tore at his spirit. He found himself questioning whether his dreams of being a hero were nothing more than foolish fantasies. The cruel taunts of his captors echoed in his mind, mocking him like a chorus of malevolent specters.

Amidst the darkness, a painful realization settled in – the fear that he might never be rescued, that his friends might never find him. The idea of being forever trapped in this nightmarish realm was like a cold blade against his heart, paralyzing him with dread.

His thoughts became a tempest of desperation, crashing against the walls of his mind like a relentless storm. The panic attack took hold, each breath coming in short, frantic bursts, as if he were being swallowed by a suffocating abyss.

In those desperate moments, Izuku felt like a lone ember flickering in the face of a fierce gale, his hope barely clinging to life. The fear of never seeing his friends again, of never being saved, consumed him like a voracious flame, threatening to consume everything he once held dear.

He stood upon a precipice of despair, and teetered on the edge. The physical pain merged with the mental anguish, leaving him feeling like a wounded soldier battling an insurmountable foe. The world around him was a cacophony of torment, and he felt like a solitary figure trapped in a dark symphony of suffering.

In those moments of darkness, he longed for the light of hope, but the weight of despair threatened to crush him. The faint glimmer of hope struggled to break through the storm, but Izuku's heart felt like a fragile vessel tossed amidst turbulent waters.

As he lay there, a prisoner in body and spirit, the uncertainty of rescue weighed heavily on him. The fear of being consumed by darkness or meeting a tragic fate before his friends could come to his aid gnawed at him like a relentless beast. Izuku's heart was a tempest of fear and doubt, and the fragile ember of hope flickered amidst the darkness.