The smell of blood suddenly punches me in the nose, and I stop.
Comprehension is something I left behind long ago. Up is down, back is forward, cold is hot. My senses don’t make any sense, and time is one big warble of incontrovertible paradoxes that fuck with my mind.
I blink hard and look down at my shaking hands. I can’t see anything in the pitch-black of my tunnel, but I can feel it. Pain. Blood. My fingers are sticky with it, nails hanging by a feeble millimeter of flesh.
And I remember.
The long, winding tunnel shrinks to a claustrophobic granite cell. Scarlett waves sadly as she walks off into the black void, leaving me to my fate, and I stagger back against the solid support of a cold metal door.
One thing the docs won’t tell you, a warning you won’t find anywhere on the packaging: convert venom has one hell of a hallucinogenic side effect.
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