✩₊˚.⋆𓍊𓋼𝕎𝕙𝕦𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟜𓋼𓍊⋆⁺₊✧

✩₊˚.⋆𓍊They're after me𓍊⋆⁺₊✧

✩₊˚.⋆𓍊𓋼𓍊⋆⁺₊✧

Wilbur dug his fingers deep into his brunet curls, grasping at the locks tightly as if to try and pull them out. Everything around him—his entire room and body—was soaked in a deep shade of crimson. He tugged harshly at his hair, letting out a small yelp of pain as his hand came away from his head, pulling out possibly hundreds of strands from his scalp.

The brunet cautiously looked down at his palms, finding that his skin was a sickly grey and purple colour and that it was peeling away in multiple spots; revealing the bone and muscle underneath it. Some parts of his hand almost looked burnt, the skin was blackened and charred with tiny boils outlining the area.

A burst of laughter bubbled up from his lips, slowly rising in volume as he grabbed onto his hair again and sunk onto his side, curling up into a tight ball. His body shook with hoarse giggles, his chest and ribs beginning to ache with effort.

The room fell into an abrupt silence as he rolled onto his back, staring blankly at the ceiling. The crimson blood slowly turned into a deep black substance, slowly sliding down the walls and dripping down onto his body. It burned, was the first thing he noticed. It was a long, cold burn that made his skin crawl.

Wilbur suddenly brought his hands up to his face, taking his fingernails along his cheeks as he let out another burst of laughter. He could hear the sound of his door opening, and then the approach of frantic footsteps. He was jerked out of his fit of laughter by rough hands grabbing onto his wrists and prying his hands away from his face.

The brunet's eyes snapped to the person who had come in, his eyes widening at the sight. He knew it was one of the nurses, but he'd never seen another person like that. It was as if their skin had been ruthlessly peeled from the rest of their body. He could see every detail in the muscle and bones. Wilbur was a bit confused on how their organs stayed in their body, since everything he saw was usually pretty accurate to the real world. With a few exceptions of course, just look at his bleeding room.

Wilbur didn't realise that he had been screaming and fighting back until a sharp voice called out his name loudly, startling him. He instantly stilled, his eyes wide with shock and panic. The nurse tried to soothe him with soft words, but it didn't help. Wilbur lashed out again, wriggling out of the person's grip and shoving them away quickly as he scrambled to his feet.

He spotted a pen on the floor that hadn't been there before. He dived for it, grasping it between his shaking hands as he stumbled away from the skinless nurse. Wilbur gazed down at the pen, pulling the cap off as quickly as possible. Then he drove it deep into his throat, making him gasp out weakly and slip down to his knees.

The nurse was frantically trying to help him and call for help, but it was too late. Some people say that time slows when you're dying, but it seemed to speed up for Wilbur. He slowly slumped down onto his back as his eyes fluttered shut.

He welcomed death with open arms.

✩₊˚.⋆𓍊𓋼𓍊⋆⁺₊✧