Titania looked at the shut door in despair as though all hope has left. Hope that the open door would somehow lessen the pain that he was in. Hope that someone would take him to safety of some kind. Hope that has left him for some mistress that he knows nothing of. How fickle is hope? Does she not place her faith in someone she trust?
It seems that the interference from Lithale or from whoever the hell that was has sped up the assimilation process of the infection into his body. It also seemed that it compressed 2 days worth of symptoms into 3 hours.
Titania gritted his teeth as he felt his skin burn as though he was being dipped in boiling acid. He looked at his hands and saw pockets of yellow pus start developing under a thin layer of his skin. This caused searing heat whenever he moved his hands or used his fingers in any kind.
He felt the blisters start slowly developing pus in his arms and to his fingers. He began to feel the weight of the pus in his arms. They felt like they were anchoring himself down, unable to raise the anchor off of the sea floor regardless of how hard he yanked at the chain. The fluid pressed tightly against his skin as though threatening to burst open with the slightest poke.
His arms felt as though they were going to melt off his bones. The pain should bolts up his spine waking him up as soon as he was going to pass out to ease the pain. Sweat started to form on his back and whatever pores on his arms that were filled with yellow pus. It felt welcoming at first, the coolness of his sweat fighting the heat caused by his body.
As the blisters started crawling up his body from his arms his stomach twisted in beautiful, ornate knots. His muscles around his stomach started spasming causing him to shake his whole body. With the blisters spreading through his body, filling themselves to the brim with yellow pus.
He was drenched in the sweet smelling sweat as though to cool his body as if it isn't the one causing the pain. The scrubs clung to his wet skin as though to offer touching condolences. The raw fabric scrapping against his skin and pockets of pus. Agitating it almost to point of bursting, rubbing just enough to remove some skin but not enough to break the layer of skin imprisoning the pus.
The blisters soon started climbing up his neck and down to his upper legs. It hurt for him to move his head in anyway. Clenching his jaw as though to soothe himself caused more pain than bliss. He could feel his teeth starting to crack from the pressure, the teeth themselves are starting to his gums and jaws. Blood started to flow into his mouth, leaving in its place the taste of iron.
The pain was too much for him to handle. Tears started to fall down his face, cooling his cheeks a sliver. Soon he let out screams of pain and desperation. He was desperate for someone to help him in his hour of need.
Anyone and everyone, come help him! Save him! Watch as he wails in pain, tears crawling down his face, like sailors fleeing the sink boat as the captain himself stays aboard in a last moment of bravery! See how the blisters grow on his body, like algae on some uncared lake left to the elements. See how they multiple and cover his body like a blanket of pus and dead skin!
The blisters then made a crawling advanced towards his face, traveling downwards into his throat. He could feel the blisters in his throat grow in size. They started small, measly bumps on his throat that made it uncomfortable to swallow anything, be it the saliva he drinks in panic, the tears from his face in painful sadness, or the bile from the infection. Soon they grew in size, feeding off of what Titania once was. They then began to start rubbing against each other in his throat agitating each other, his throat convulsing in pain. As they threatened to pop and spill its precious pus down his throat, it became harder to breath as though the infection itself had its hands wrapped around his throat.
The pus filled blisters have now swollen to unprecedented size, now looking like cysts instead of blisters or the pink blemishes that they once were. How pretty they once looked on Titania, giving pink life on Titania's neck or back. Often they came quickly and left just as fast but now they announce their presence as though a declaration of war on Titania's body, wanting to break free of their mortal, fleshly, human prison.
In a sudden burst of energy, he rushed to the door ignoring the pain of the developing blisters on his feet, sending bolts through his legs. Last minute hope filled his heart to the brim.
He banged his arms against the door in hope of someone on the other side could help him, popping all of the pockets of pus on his arms in the process. He heard the banging echo throughout the corridors of the facility. The echoes then turn into laughter as the facility itself watches Titania through its invisible eyes.
When the pus dripped off arms onto the floor a faint sizzling sound could be hear. It was as though the pus was eating away at the floor.
Soon the alarms have stopped. The sirens have quieted themselves. The flashing lights has stopped. Yet the door was still in its place. Standing tall above Titania, as though mocking his situation that he was in. There he laid on the cool floor, covered in pus, blisters, leftover bile, and sweat.
After a few moments more he heard clicks and the door flew open. Showing mercy at Titania's lowest moment, not out of the goodness of it's heart but out of pity and annoyance.
His whimpers of pain bounced off the walls through the corridors.