Insomnolence |Ryden AU| ✔️

~3~

Spencer sits across from me, his face alight with a smile as he stirs his steaming hot coffee.  I didn't plan on leaving the house today, for my exhaustion was making me sick, but he somehow managed to talk me into going out for coffee.  He's always been a charming man.

"Not gonna drink anything, Ryan?"  he asks me, nodding at my untouched mug.  "Come on, I'm sure it'll be good for you.  When's the last time you had a hot cup of fresh coffee?"

I shrug, staring down at the steam rising from the mug of dark brown liquid.  I've never been that much of a coffee drinker, anyway, and with my twisting stomach, I definitely don't want to drink anything.  I know Spencer was just trying to help, but I'd much rather stay inside and wallow in self-pity.

Spencer clicks his tongue, a form of disappointment, I'm guessing.  "Too bad, man,"  he says, taking a long sip.  "This stuff's good."

"Sorry,"  I murmur.

It had been a sunny day all morning, but now, as noon steadily approaches, dark clouds start to roll over the blue sky, shadowing us and our little table outside the coffee shop.  Maybe it'll rain.  I like rain.

Spencer glances up at the blackening sky, a low grumble of distaste rattling in his throat.  "Looks like a storm's coming,"  he says, picking up his mug and rising to his feet.  "I'm gonna go to the bathroom, and then I'll take you home.  Be right back."

"Take your time,"  I tell him as he slips inside the shop.  Now it's just me and my thoughts.

Wonderful.

Thunder rumbles in the distance, the dark clouds swirling overhead like a menacing whirlpool.  Spencer's sure been in there a while.  Did he order another mug, I wonder?

A drop of rain lands on my hand, but I'm faced with confusion when my skins burns instead of feeling refreshed.  Looking down, I realize that it's not rain that's hit my hand, but blood.

Hot, crimson, sticky blood, and it's eating away at my skin like a leech.

I jump to my feet, beating my hand and whimpering with fear, watching as my skin peels away and reveals the sickly color of my muscle.  Oh God, this can't be happening.  This can't be happening.

The blood rain comes in steady spurts now, pummeling my fragile body and burning away my tender flesh.  Screams ring in my ears, but it takes me a while to realize that those screams are coming from me.

I scream for Spencer.  I scream for mercy.  I scream for the blood rain to cease, and I scream for my skin to stop peeling off my bones.  I've never endured such agony, and it's only getting worse.

My own blood pooling down my clothes, I stagger to the door of the coffee shop, banging on the glass and shrieking to be let inside.  My skin is melting, drooping off my bones like I've turned into a walking corpse.  I can't see.  Blood and skin and hair blinds me, the extraordinary pain beating against every part of my body.  This is death.  I know it is.

A form shifts inside the coffee shop.  They come to the door, and I come face to face with Spencer, his once-charming smile now wicked and disturbing.

"Please help...."  I cry, suffocating and choking on the thick blood.  I can't breathe.

"Oh, of course, Ryan,"  Spencer tells me, but I'm too weak to stop him from what he's about to do.

He grabs my melted skin, digging his nails into me and ignoring my cries, and shoves me over the railing.  I land in a deep puddle of the blood that's tearing me apart.