Anger.

Hatred.

Suffering.

Agony.

Burning.

Dissolving.

He could feel it all. How the thick fluid ate away at his flesh. He was completely emerged in it. He tried to scream, but it only created another entrance for the fluid to enter his body. Burning and eating away at his throat.

It hurt

It hurts

It was such a cruel way to go. He could feel his skin being eaten away, the fluid not even sparing him from the inside, as it started to fill his stomach, eating him from the inside out.

What a way to go, death by ones own creation. It was never ment to do this. It was ment to change the world. Its ability to eat away and corrode organic matter was a flaw in its design. And it would be his undoing. A self replicating fluid, yet it destroyed any organic life it touched.

Even when the world finally went dark, like a sick joke it wasnt over. No, his eyes had been desolved, but he was still there. Even when his ear drums and tongue were gone, his brain was still in tact till the very end. It was if it wanted him to suffer.

Then, it finally found his brain. It was a dull ach at first, then it was an explosion of agony. He couldn't scream, he couldn't cry. Just accept it, theres nothing more you can do anyways.

Then. It stopped. The fluid had finally severd the conections between what was left of his emulsified corpse and his brain.

This was it. He was dead. Finally. Finally it was over. The pain was gone. Everything was gone. It wasn't like he wanted to die, but... there was a strange sense of peace now...

Or, there would have been. But he was still here. No eyes or mouth, no ears, no limbs or brain, he was gone, but he was still here. Why was he still here? Why why WHY?

Was this hell? Was this all there was? His consciousness floating in a vast sea of nothingness? No senses, no feeling, just him. No. God no, he would take the pain over this, anything, god please ANYTHING BUT THIS.

Anything please

Please

Something... anything

.

.

.

Waves

Like an ocean. All around him yet though him. As if he was both a body in the water and the water himself. They flowed through him. It wasn't like anything he had experienced before. He didn't exactly feel it, not like how one reaches out to touch something, but he was still aware it was happening around him, inside lf him, through him.

It was getting stronger, more and more waves pulsing through him. Then, the dark started to crack.

Light, it was blurred, but unmistakable.

Sounds, muffled but there.

Feeling, cold, like metal.

Shapes, figures above him, they started to move, blurry at first, but coming into focus. Was he... being born?

No... no wait... he knew those faces. He... he knew them as the last things he saw. The people that did this to him. The people who wanted to steal his work for there own, the people who used his own work to end his life.

Hatred.

Pay.

They'll pay

All of them will pay

He wanted them to suffer. Suffer like he had. He wanted to reach out, grab them by the throat, rip it out as they watched. He could feel his anger physically bubble inside him. He had no limbs, none he could feel anymore. But he wanted, he needed to reach out.

Pay

Make. Them. PAY

From the industrial vat, a tendril emerged, it wrung itself around a mans neck. The contact alone made the mans skin corrode, slopping off in chunks as it hit the floor with a meaty slap. He had no time to scream, no time to run. It dropped him just before it dissolved through bone, his head barely attached by a few stands of muscle.

The others panicked, they tried to run, but one by one, each was grabbed. Each was broken down like food in stomach acid. Each had fallen. Untill there was nothing but silence. Everlasting silence. Peaceful, at last.

But he felt no peace. He still felt anger. Hatred. Betrayal.

He needed out, he wanted out. Let me out. Let. Me. O u t.

A shape resembling a hand grabbed the edge of the container, it pulled itself up. The thick liquid started to take form, as it pulled itself together. It leaned over the edge, and soon tumbled out, hiting the ground with a wet slap. It kept trying to pull itself together, to take form. To resemble somthing that it once was. But it couldn't.

Without the vat holding it, it could feel itself splitting apart, ripping open like a fresh wound, it felt like his mind was breaking apart, body ripping in two, but it wasn't painful. It was. A feeling he had never felt before. He still didn't like it.

Soon, it broke. Like a tumor being removed, he was finally free. But. He didn't... feel whole. He felt. Missing. Incomplete.

Empty.

But somehow, he could still feel all of himself. He maneged to move what he felt was his head over to the part of himself that had broken away. He was. Looking at himself. A part of him.