- It was mind numbing, just staring at the door. Somehow, Oscar knew what was behind it-- It was almost instinctive, like a muscle in his body had aligned and suddenly his entire body was functioning. Was he asleep? Was he awake? It felt like a dream. Maybe he was lucid. No, he was lucid.
He was dreaming because he couldn't wake up.
His thoughts reached out to touch the green door's knob, and a rush of memories overwhelmed him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't speak... It was like his entire being was being suffocated by the nostalgia, working online and doing social events, being complained to because of his noise by his neighbors, their infected hunting group becoming closer the more they came together... The death of that poor woman, the bandits, breaking his arm, the hospital, with his mother and the phones, the person... The person? What person--
Whatever. They were probably gone now. He knew from the moment he saw the door.
These were his final moments.
He turned the knob and instantly blacked out.
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The moment he-- The moment they awoke, they felt weightless, empty. It was like they finally made sense, mind consumed by the virus, by itself, becoming a legacy, becoming, well, creation in itself. He was thankful for this new title, this new way to acquire fame and fortune-- Though a small part of his mind screamed at him, screamed of memories, screamed of plans he'd had, screamed of friends he loved. The screaming grew louder and louder, and the main part, the dominant part, pushed against it. Eventually it became a large conflict in him until the voice, the scream, overwhelmed the creation.
It broke free.
It was in that instant that Oscar awoke. Awoke? Could he even call it that? It wasn't really awaking, and he wasn't really sleeping. He wasn't even real, he noticed, he didn't even own a body. He was simply, well, empty space. Dully he wondered if he'd ever see himself again. A small realization came afterward of how much he actually didn't want to. Who know what'd happened to it? Apparently, the answer would come to him soon. Almost too soon. The second his minds eye passed the view of his mangled body, Oscar felt himself ache from disgust. He couldn't stare at himself too long, no, that would be mind-scarring. He settled to looking around the area-- Only to see a familiar face, right next to his own body. Was that... The fish girl who kidnapped him? Was that even kidnapping? She'd seemed desperate. She had vines curling around her face slowly, writhing and curling. Oscar willed them away, and thankfully, they consented. He watched her closely. She needed a hero, right now.
And even in his last moments, he'd be one.
Creating a body for himself had been easy-- While he was made of vines, he looked like a horse. It was somewhere he could lift her up on, and it made things faster. She was thankfully passed out. As he lugged her to the entrance of the area, Oscar considered his life. He was now just a bundle of vines, moving with no purpose. He'd never see his friends again. He didn't have much... He just had, well...
His mind. For now.
He was just a bunch of loosely tied knots by the time he reached the area nearest to the outside. He carefully removed her from his back, morphing into a human with what vines were left over. He tossed her to the front, watching her roll a little before laying on her side, completely unconscious.
A favor for a favor.
His mind ran with thoughts as he headed up the stairs, vines instinctively attaching themselves to his decomposed body, curling around and lacing into a stronger body. He could never leave, now. He was simply... waiting for the end. But right now, in these final moments...
At least he was himself.
