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He can’t see.
It’s dark.
Why is it so dark?
Mark’s arms reach into the blackness surrounding himself. There are no walls. Wait, is there even a floor? Is he standing on anything?? He can’t feel anything underneath his feet. Why isn’t he wearing shoes or socks? How is this-
Something coils around his ankle, and he shrieks.
A hand clamps over Mark’s mouth, muffling his cries.
He tries to pull away, but more hands grab at him, keeping him in place.
The thing slithers up his ankle, slowly. It feels smooth and slick, and has no trouble making its way up his body. His heart is thundering in his chest as the thing goes up his leg, over his torso, settling on his chest.
There’s a small, hissing sound, and it moves closer to his face. Mark can’t see it, but he can feel it hovering mere inches from his nose.
The hand covering his mouth moves away, and he tries to scream for help.
But as soon as his lips part, the thing dives into his mouth.
He can’t breathe. God he can’t breathe. He is gagging as it slithers inside his fucking throat oh my god oh my god oh my god-
Tears are pouring down Mark’s face by the time the creature finally pulls the last of itself into his body. The arms holding him disappear and he collapses to the floor, hacking and gasping.
It’s inside him.
He can feel it.
Sobbing, Mark sticks two fingers into his mouth and hits the back of his throat, trying to make himself vomit the thing out. He gags, but nothing comes out.
He cries, pulling at his hair. He’s so confused, everything hurts everything is wrong where is everyone why is he alone-
That’s when the lights snap on.
He is standing in front of the hallway mirror, looking completely well.
He is smiling.
But he isn’t making himself smile.
“Master, the chef has finished your breakfast!”
“Thank you Benjamin, I’ll be there in a moment.”
He speaks.
But he isn’t the one making himself speak.
Mark tries to scream, cry, anything to show himself that he is the one in control.
But his body continues walking towards the kitchen calmly.
He isn’t in control anymore.