The Tested (Cryoatic/PewDieCry Story)

Chapter Seven- "Recovery"

Cry sat quietly, his knees to his chest, watching as Fe walked about his dorm, picking up broken wood and shattered glass. He felt worse then he ever had before. Not only because of the hellish torment that live within his mind, but also what the torment made him. He hurt his friends, maybe almost killed them, but Cry didn't know the details.

Fe wouldn't tell him.

The sound of crunching glass came through the doorway, followed by heavy sigh. "I'm ordering metal wear for your dorm next time." Fe declared, the sound of sweeping making its way to the bedroom.

Cry chucked, a small smile cracking his stiff face. It hurt, but, not any worse then the cuts he had carved into his arm.

Cry's breathing stop.

This was the first time he had thought of the cuts since waking. Frantically, he uncurled himself out of his ball and pulled up his long sleeves. His eyes widened.

No cuts, but the veins were back.

And there were a lot more.

Cry screamed, and began scooting back on his bed until he fell off.

That voice, the glowing blue.....

As if all of this were practiced, he pulled out a plastic box and grabbed a sharp blade. His eyes were wide with fear and terror, his arms shaking, and tears streaming down his face once again. As he brought the blade down, footsteps filled the room.

One second later, Cry noticed a sudden warmth, and realize he was no-longer holding his blade, nor was he sitting on the floor of his room.

Where he was was dark, and yet full of light. It was warm and welcoming, and what ever Cry was sitting on, it was comfortable.

But then came a pain in his arm. There stood Fe, dressed in his cloak, a large syringe sticking out of Cry's arm. Speechless, he watched as a neon blue liquid filled the container, leaving his arm.

Then, the most wordless feeling of the needle being pulled from his vein. It felt like a stiff, fat worm being pulled from under his skin, slowly.

He looked up at Fe, wanting to see a look of discomfort or disgust, but the luminosity of the room, plus the cloak, made it impossible to tell if such a look was there.

But why did he want to see him like that? Maybe to insure him the Fe didn't enjoy what he was doing. Fe let out a long sigh before moving away from Cry. "How's your arm feel." Fe asked, dropping some of the fluid from the syringe to a Petri Dish. Whipping the tear from his cheeks, telling himself to get over this new part of himself, Cry rub the spot of his arm that the strung had been and replied.

"F-fine, I guess." His eyes began to flicker around the room observing his surroundings. As he did so, he began to see something odd.

Over on a small desk sat a digital alarm clock, the red numbers on indicating it was 3:47pm. The more more he looked at it, the more me it seemed like they were flickering, then they were blinking.

"I'll just be a minute, 'kay?" Fe call. Cry kept his attention on the alarm clock. As he stared, the numbers begin to change, slowly going faster, the time increasing.

As he slowly approached it, the red numbers slowly began to lighten into neon blue. Then, before he could react, there was a sharp pain in his cheek and he was on the floor.

Fe was quick to reach his side, sitting him upright and scanning him for wounds. "D-did that clock just-"

Cry stopped, looking at Fe's face, which held an unreadable expression. Quickly, he sprung up, finding a reflective surface.