Cold and sinking were they as if this very moment he would be swallowed by the most outrageously incomprehensible beast that had mauled him, and so he was confused alone not aware of what had happened to him, can he truly free himself, blasphemous!

Before he could question such deeds, he screams in extreme agony only to not hear himself, did they also leave him falling off out of their places (his ears)?

The world has painted itself in crimson agony and his vision was dyed in dark red blood, but no blood was gushing out his face, did he wonder why (he did not!)?

Rasped breathing trying to fill his lungs with vitality the terrified person with his hanging countenance lay in a very familiar and very unfamiliar bed, after returning home the young man thought he could find comfort (he is not in a comfortable situation even though he is sleeping).

The nightmarish reality has gnawed on him as if it has dawned upon him, that even if a person cannot be themselves until they have a mirror to reflect upon themselves, the mirror makes them aware of their flaws, how their contours are not better than him or her, might be better if this looked more like this or like that, they pretty much dislike knowing or observing their ugly selves (your inner self, that which have no image, only you can see).

The discomfort of looking at the ugly self was easy to get away with if he were to shatter the mirror of reflection, but even after that can he truly avoid his pathetic self?

Blaming upon this accursed world that has fumed of crimson radiance all around him, making nothing clearly visible and air so heavy that he had to hyperventilate himself only to feel breathless again. An atmosphere so haunting that it would leave one in extreme fear.

As the cycle of this incomprehensible fear struck and bombarded his existence in these few minutes or months of gloomy crimson horror, his eyes almost on the verge of popping out of his socket, bulging in them his veins visible, his face... more like the mask of flesh upon his skull, not only his facial skin but his entire face with protruding flesh hanging only by the remaining bit at had still attached to his face.

Like an aluminium can's the top lid has been partially removed, exposing the exotic food inside and creating juvenile excitement, but for him, that was not the case, his breathing still rasped, the vision dyed in crimson, and his mind screaming in agony or perhaps he even screamed himself but he hears not.

"hEY, help me, please somebody help me!"

And so, he cried, but nobody helped him as if they couldn't.

His hands were numb and paralyzed as if they had no use of themselves to help him get rid of his agony, there was truly nothing he could do for himself, only to cry, to cry for help, for...

"Help me it's falling off, can't you see it's obviously falling off, aaaaah my face is."

Falling off is what was he calling out, nobody was free enough to recognize the youth's plea in pain.

They are concerned about their daily lives, some in a rush towards their workplace, caressing their baring, lest they should appear untidy, looking at their watches and keeping track of life. However.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"All of you why can't you listen, I know you guys hear me, help me, aaaaah."

He stretched his neck tightly upwards fighting gravity, using it to save his face from falling off, he could feel the displaced horrid part, the skin surrounding his right eyes, not in place they again made him terrified of this precarious situation.

If he were to mistakenly look down, he would have his face mask falling off, exposing the grotesque flesh beneath.

So, in this precipice if only...

"All you need to do is adjust it, that's all you have to do, that's all I'm asking, don't abandon me."

"I know you can hear me, I am sure of it, you all are purposely avoiding me, look here, I'm barely managing it, just hold my face and stick it to my skull, how hard it can be?"

"Hey, I know you are all listening, all of us are supposed to help each other, how much of a scum of a human you all can be, just help me, I deserve it.

"You are obliged to help me, can you not see how much pain I'm going through, shouldn't you guys stick back to face again, hey help me now, I deserve it, you supposed to do it, how can you ignore somebody in this sorry state."

"You ridiculous people."

The more he screams, the blurrier the figures appear as if they had all consented to abandon the cursed man, the air tickles in an itchy manner on his beneath-revealed flesh, from where surprisingly no blood was gushing out, he was almost insane due to his fear.

The anger was surging through all his sense of reasoning, all his mind was occupied with how this happened to him, why his pitiful self was abandoned, even a modicum of support would have become a beacon of hope in this tapestry of his despairing reality, why was something his own, something so precious falling off, like a cover to being forcefully snatched from his face, revealing his disgusting beneath bared flesh with no skin and beautiful mask to cover his self.

As he agonizes in pain, making no attempts spare to seek help, not even once could he use his own help to provide support.

Once the darkness consumes the horizon would he save himself from the loss of his face, he could feel his misplaced skin slightly touching the parts it shouldn't.

The mask of his skin hanging, the right hole of his eyes, where his right eyes should be, was now making it difficult to see more due to a misplaced hole where it should have been filling with his right eye.

The same right eye was being obstructed by his skin mass, blocking his vision, but did he have any use for it? (No, he did not!)

Not knowing how many months he has been trapped in this crimson hell, will he ever be freed from the depths of his self?

When all of this will end, how much time has passed, how much longer, then, is this ending, It has been so long, for how long, aaaaaaaaa-

His crazed screaming like a haunting melody resounded everywhere, if perhaps he understood where his self was, never had any moments to ponder over such a basic question, in his desperate state he continued to scream in pain, horrified.

"When, will the help arrive?"

All his attention was focused on this point, he couldn't even bring himself to ask about how to get himself in this traumatizing situation, what had led him into this, what was about to happen to him, in fact, he didn't even bother to consider using his own hands to save face, to at least alleviate the pain of losing more of his body.

The pain of losing one's precious limbs is only known when one, hands are cut off, and dismembered, and when legs are dismembered, truly they realize the blessing they had is now, gone.

The fury of crimson surrounding him as if it would engulf him in the hellish fire that was raging, so much so that it almost felt as if he would be devoured by the nightmare itself burned to dust, but the suspense of the pain and the horrid view of his imprisoned state made his suffering even more torturous.

That was only if, only if...

"Huh!..."

"A nightmare??"

His hands were slightly numb, due to the restricted flow of blood in his palms, it was puffy and hard to move for several milliseconds.

Rubbing his eyes while feeling its hotness he sighs.

"....."