I’m in a room. A very small room, about the size of an elevator. There’s a man in the corner nearly pressing against my leg.
The room is bright pure white aside from the blood on the walls and floor from the man.
There is no visible light fixture in the room but my eyes are straining from its radiance.
Its like a snowy day condensed into a single box. Maybe the room itself is glowing. There are no shadows.

I glance back at the man. My heartbeat increases, my eyes dance around his face.
Something deep and primordial in my mind tells me this man’s face is the last thing I want to see. His skin is saggy and stained a brown-red.
Blood is still slowly gushing from wounds so deep I can see white. I breath is heavy and quick. My face feels wet.

My head jerks up so my eyes can meet the ceiling. Its blank like the fresh printer paper I bought last week, like the rest of the room. I shuffle my feet a little.

Squelch squish

The blood must be under my shoes. Before my better judgement can kick in I look down at my feet.

Down at the man.

The blood had indeed oozed beneath my shoes. Except, I don’t remember ever wearing these shoes.
Or having this skin. But the man gobbles up my attention like a famished hog and I look to him. He’s slouched over in a sitting position,
only now the bones I could see within the holes in him have begun-

I vomit.

i can’t breath, all i hear i your heartbeat. Bubump bubump bumpump. Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god ogodog