but he is not safe. He wheezed (?), throwing his hat on the floor, holding it tightly as he looked onto the stains. Half- dried Blood was splattered onto them, leaving ugly marked of a reddish brown.
The blood was disgusting. This was so disgusting. He shouldn’t have gone there. Oh my god. Fuck.
He soon takes off the jacket and throws it on the floor with repugnance, retracting his hand before curling up further back onto the door, pressing onto the cold metal, staying away as far as he could from the viscera-coated clothing.
but he is still not safe. the terror of what had happened in the clinic lingers like a vengeful ghost, and Finley choked, his body now stumbling onto the floor, and he coughs in exhausting and fear. the coughing would soon turn into uneven breathes again, as the fear strikes him again, taking over his systems.this was so disgusting. So, so disgusting. He was coated in the same bloody substance. disgusting. He needs to get rid of this. Good god.
It’s as if he’s back stepping onto the flesh. Why is the floor squishy? Maybe it’s not. He can’t tell. His vision is getting blurry, and he’s starting to have a headache.
Thoughts would overrun in his head, as he leaned onto the floor, his head half buried onto his arm and the wooden floor, the other pressed onto his forehead, shielding himself from some non-existent light that seemed to plague the room. God, he is a mess. Finley sobbed on the floor, droplets on oil starting to deep through the cracks. Finley gently rubs it away, smudging his face with it. He almost died. He almost died. He is not safe. He still isn’t safe. The doors locked. He should be safe. But it’s still here. He’s not safe. Is anything safe? Is he just overreacting. He can’t think straight. Good good.
He needs this to stop. Something. To stop this. Please.
Where is it.

Edit

Pub: 13 Jul 2022 15:04 UTC

Edit: 06 Dec 2025 11:13 UTC

Views: 3842