[EPILEPSY WARNING] You feel a chill run up your spine, Despite being so cold, it burns like a fire. You remember a candle, It drew you in, like moth to light. You're stiff, You try to move but you can't, You try to breathe but your throat is constricted, You try to cast Candlebright... But it failed. In the midst of the orthomortum, Everything fails. But this is just a dream? This is just a lucid dream? You try to wake up. But you can't open your eyes, because... they are already wide open The mirror keeps approaching you, Your reflection having had a grotesque amount of detail, now obscured by your fears. You want to cry, but you have nowhere to cry from. You want to scream, but you have nowhere to scream from. You want to run, but you have nowhere to run to. You want to fight, but you have nothing to fight back. You want to freeze, but your already rigid. You want to accept what is happening, but you have nothing to accept. Your heartbeat races faster than your heart is beating. Your lungs grow heavy, unable to exhale. Your vision blurs, but you've gone blind. You clench your fists, but you have no phalanges. Somehow, your sympathetic nervous system is in full control, And at the same time, you have no nervous system. You can't remember how you live your life. Modus becomes mortis, And the operandi terminates.
Greendale human being Google images
