#inflictions

[should-have-spiraled]

Sorry, Goldie. Good luck.

[The Spiral has an iron grip over Michael. That much is true. So much so that his ties to the Eye are weakened. And it does not feel good.

It starts behind his eyes, as the kind of pain one would expect at the beginning of a Migraine. But it gets worse. And worse. Until it feels as though his eyes are being ripped out of his skull and his vision is blurry.

The light hurts.

Everything hurts.

Michael's mind is racing, begging for knowledge and screaming with curiosity. And yet he can do nothing about it.

His head spins and he can't see straight. He can't think properly. He's warm, too warm, and cold, and he swears he's mumbling useless strings of facts to himself.

Nothing feels right and he feels as though he's dying, hungover, feverish, and high all at the same time.

This is Beholding Sickness, and it's not going away for quite some time.]

"mmmmgh notagain.."

[should-have-spiraled]

Oh Michael! Your turn!

[Michael tries to get out of bed. It doesn't work.

Static rises to a crescendo and he can feel himself start to panic. It's just a panic attack, right? He's used to them, he has had them thousands of times before.

But this one is the worst. His head spins, he can't breathe, can't think. It's loud, his skin is crawling, he wants to scream, to cry.

But nothing comes out.

Instead, he sits there, staring at the wall.

He doesn't notice the freezing cold that creeps up from his feet, to his knees, to his fingers, up his arms, and crawls to the top of his skull.

He doesn't notice the door opening.

He doesn't notice when he stops breathing.

He only feels his body become light, floaty, and all the pain and thoughts and worries fade away.

And just like that, Michael Shelley is gone.

When @distortedwritings finds Michael, it's too late. He's sitting on his bed, staring forward, unmoving, unbreathing. He takes his last breath right there in front of Gerry, who is forced to watch helplessly as the life leave's his love's eyes.]

Perhaps we will be kind and bring him back! Who knows! Ciao!

.

[should-have-spiraled]

you

Will serve better as you

Are now for it

Little Lamb

a tangible existence from before birth and after death to prove that the fractured fragments of memories are not delusions

not false

not the creaking of a door

not the choking of a lie

you serve it better remaining as

Michael Shelley

something it can piece together

and understand

oh wonderful. anotherone. greaat.

what i was supposed to be.

[should-have-spiraled]

ktichen floorsco dl n my pohne is abtto diee :)

[should-have-spiraled]

As Micheal opens the door, it opens into the corridors, rather than the outside. Rude.

@distortedwritings

Michael looks confused for a second. He definitely didn't intend for this to be a distortion door, he barely knows how to create them and it takes energy to try.

He doesn't look good. Michael is a mess of haphazard clothing and barely brushed hair. He's shaking and pale and not all there.

Michael shakes his head, maybe this is just his mind playing tricks on him, and takes a deep breath.

[should-have-spiraled]

As Micheal sleeps, he dreams. And it's not pleasant.

He sees the Distortion before, its form ever-changing just like the Spiral's, luring a human into its hallways.

He sees Gerry, handing a Leitner to Mary and flinching just slightly when she turns away with the book.

Then, the scene changes. Micheal is in the hallways, the bright neon colors hurting his head a little. And Gerry, in his winter outfit, is walking down the hallway, following a map he's long since memorized and left behind.

He shatters a mirror and climbs through, into a black void. Then, there's a flash of color, and then, the screaming starts.

A peek in shows Gerry sheathed in a translucent colorful form that's glitching in and out, and they both are in pain. But that does not change what is happening.

It is hard to tell when the screaming ceases. But it's halfway through the transformation, he knows that much. And as the dream fades to black, the last thing he's aware of is a weak cry of his name falling from Gerry's lips.

Michael is surprised to wake up this time. But he does. His heart is pounding, he can hardly breathe again, but he’s awake.

He can feel the comforting weight of his boyfriend- boyfriends?- all around him.

Michael forces himself to calm down, even with his mind still racing, he can’t risk waking them up. Not right now.

Though he does cling a little tighter to whoever he is holding.

[should-have-spiraled]

If I bit you would you taste like a lemon candy

I'm too exhausted to deal with this. I would taste like human. If you like that taste, sure, bite me.