Bars shut his mouth holding his bloody jaws shut as his bloodshot eyes stare at the equipment trapping him.

Mumbling out with gargled words “what’s happening to me” as clear as mud he spoke.

The people bagged up like plastic and had all the warmth of frost bitten fingers.

They looked at him then at each other and moved on. No words spoken nothing.

Leaving him mounted in a box with wires protruding from each limb and section of his body.

As he felt his mouth breathe in his spit as he fell to unconsciousness, coming to a world of red and a pain in his chest.

He knows what he had done, his deeds in life would reflect an eternity of pain dealt to him and he would rather die than wish to die.

His chest convulsed and he felt his breathe jerk and heave but he tried to keep it down.

It was stabbing his lungs and pressing down on his nose and eyes, death giving him a slow demise in comparison to his deeds.

Blackness enveloped his dead mind and he gasped.

Coming back to the blood red world he arrived in.

Death is inevitable, but only in reality.

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