A stabbing pain crossed through his abdomen and he coughed, mucus dripping out of his mouth gruesomely. He felt his intestines contract, a feeling he didn't know existed. His hair now dripped with the sheen of sweat. He looked at his horrendous self in the mirror.
'What's happening?' He felt the urge to yell but he just covered his mouth and shook his head. 'This pain will go away. It will, it will.' He rummaged in his pocket for a syringe.
'Maybe if I go into the game for a few minutes, the voice will go.' He found the syringe and ripped off the covering.
(You don't want to do that.)
Alex resisted. He held the tip at a distance, ready to inject it into his bloodstream.
But his hands didn't move. He tried to move it, but it was stuck in the air. Before he knew it. His body was again moving on its own and his hand swatted to the side, throwing away the syringe. It collided with the tiled walls and dropped to the floor.
