drugs

"Hey, get ready. Fifteen seconds ..."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm ready."

"... five, four, three, two, inhale—"

The burnt-lemon smoke burns her throat as it goes down, leaves her feeling rough and raw. Spasmodic coughs shake her body.

The thing behind the mirror beats against it as you prepare your salvation, strangely colored liquids bubbling through twisted glass and gases shimmering with heat's haze condensing down through concentric silver rings. It took so long to prepare, so many failures!

But now it's ready.

You know it can't make any noise, not here, not from behind the mirror, yet as its face contorts in fear and rage you can hear it screaming. It echoes through your mind, wordless and thought-devouring, making thought all but impossible—

You swallow another pill, choking it down with a mouthful of oily water, and the scream stills.