Darkness surrounded everything. He sat up from his laying position and reached into the pitch black veil as if trying to feel something, to hold on to something, but there was nothing there. Thomas struggled to see further than his arm's length, even though his vision, in those brief moments of adjusting, had managed to paint dark grey half of his sight.
The room stinked of decay, dust, and death. Thomas pushed himself to his feet and with arms stretched walked towards the direction he thought the exit would be. His hands grasped upon the wall, feeling, touching before he let his fingers slide across its rough surface. He moved alongside with the wall, sometimes tripping but always remaining to his feet. That was until he felt a sharp pain in the palm of his hand. The object seemed oddly familiar and with furrowed eyebrows, Thomas tried to study it.
It couldn't be; when there was a way in, there was always a way out. And yet, there he was, examining in blind the entire room and not once had he found a way out. He even tried to pitch himself or even to slap himself back to reality. Despite his efforts, the same black room laid beneath him as if mocking him for his childish acts. He was stuck in there.
"Newt?!" Thomas called out. His voice came out desperate and his breathing erratic. No one answered him back, but that didn't stop him. "Teresa?! Mom?!"
Silence filled the room but to Thomas, that was the loudest of screams. Even though he had only just woken up to his sight, he felt like the darkness messed with his head and drove him crazy. He felt like he felt apart, piece by piece, and there was nothing to be done to stop it.
Angels always seemed to somewhat pull themselves together, to find even a tiny glimpse of hope inside every situation no matter how hard that would be. And yet, the room felt as if drained of hope and every kind of life. It waited for his insanity to slip, to break him. Thomas looked around in panic, but somehow still managing to pull himself together.
And then, he slipped. He let his back collide against the rough wall and from there, he slid down further and further until he was in a sitting position to what felt like a corner. Pulling his knees close to his chest, Thomas furrowed his eyebrows. Questions roamed round and round his head, suffocating him with their need to be answered. And yet, he had no answers. He had nothing.
It was only him, and the void.
"I don't know who you are or why you're doing this," Thomas called out with eyes narrowed at everything and nothing, at the same time. "But my friends will come from me. And once they do, you'll pray for the angel that they let you go unharmed!"
Thomas knew that Teresa would come. He knew that she would stop at nothing until he got him back. But deep down, a part of him hoped that it would be Newt who would break in and free him. And when he did, Thomas hoped that he would look up to his eyes and see relief, anger and the tiniest bit of smile curving itself on his lips. He was insane for thinking like that, but he couldn't help the thoughts out of his head. It was like they were stuck there, praying for Thomas to hear them out.
But he couldn't. An angel and a devil weren't meant to be. The odds were against them, and if people found out, it wasn't only him that would pay the price. Newt would too and it would made his heart bleed for the blond boy to go through something hardly close to what had happened to him years ago which had scarred his body and his soul.
No matter what happened, Thomas couldn't fall for Newt. And with that, he dropped his head on his knees and shut his eyes tightly, wishing for the nightmare to finally be put to a stop.
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