your crusted eyes blinking in the gloom. You seem to be restrained, your head is locked in place, though your hands are free.
Across from you a similar figure sits, their bloody tongue stolen from their cracked lips and their eyes wild. Gasping you realize you can't feel your own tongue, a bloody nub flapping between your yellowed teeth.
CHOOSE WISELY.
The voice speaks with a thousand voices, echoing around your brain and the man thrashes, moaning. Looking down you see a table between you and the figure, three syringes and a revolver resting heavily between you like a meal of lead and rot.
ONE INJECTION. YOU OR HIM. THEN SHOOT. YOU OR HIM.
The voices itches behind your eyes and the gun seems to cock itself, the hammer echoing around the space.
ONE BULLET.
you find yourself reaching for the first syringe, your hands bubbling and sickly as they shake. Your fingers lift the metal, slotting neatly into place like they were meant to do this since your very birth.
