Dreamland
WIND came rushing through the four open windows, the cool AIR making John's eyes water. He didn't FEEL the cold. He barely felt ANYTHING anymore. The backseat of the car was slowly being eaten by FLAMES, but Pyro didn't notice and if he had, he hadn’t CARED. The previous owner might have, but that guy was lying somewhere UNCONSCIOUS, with a nice bump on the back of his head and a few nasty BURNS all over his body. The street was starting to BLUR before Pyro's eyes and he blinked a few times to get a CLEAR vision again. His head was filled with a SHARP ringing sound that gave him the urge to HIT it against a wall to get some peace, but so far he had managed to RESIST. Still, he was beginning to understand why MENTAL patients were always shown doing that in MOVIES. If Xavier turned him down, he'd be LOST. He would die. John's grip around the steering wheel TIGHTENED when he felt his mind drift away. He couldn't AFFORD losing control over the car and driving into a TREE now; not when he was so CLOSE to his goal. He hadn't been at the Institute in YEARS and if his sense of orientation had been a little WORSE, he wouldn't have found it again. But gladly, he DID. After another mile or so, he spotted the small ROAD that led through a long alley and up to the MANSION. John turned right without reducing his SPEED and felt the car slide beneath him. A few more meters and then the old, BEAUTIFUL building came into sight. Pyro looked up, a wave of MEMORIES about this place rushing over him and DISTRACTING him for a second too LONG. Before his foot even found the brake, he CRASHED into one of the big stone pillars that GRACED a small path up to the main entrance. For a few SECONDS the world around him turned white and RED, the blaring sound of a car ALARM filling his ears and dusty, burning HOT air filling his lungs and making him COUGH. Hot liquid r an down the side of his FACE, but no pain accompanied it and Pyro was too BEMUSED to notice it. His hand found its way to the DOOR, but it didn't open anymore. The hot air inside the car was getting WORSE, making it impossible for him to breathe properly. The big white airbag was blocking his VISION, but the shattered glass around him was indication enough that the front shield was BROKEN. Coughing and blinking to get the TEARS out of his eyes, John turned in the seat and gave the door a few weak KICKS, until it creaked open. With his last bit of strength he PUSHED himself out of the car, more FALLING than stepping out. He almost tripped and landed face first on the GROUND, but managed to keep himself up with his hands. FORCING his eyes up to the mansion, he tumbled closer to the entrance door. The alarm was still WAILING behind him, but Pyro's numb mind was tuning the volume down, as if someone had put COTTON into his ears. After a few feet, that felt like MILES to him, he reached the door and hit his HAND against it. He tumbled to the left, catching himself at the WALL and reaching up to touch his face that was now starting to itch and STING. When he lowered his hand again, his fingers were covered in BLOOD.