"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Yugikun
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Pain.

Dull. Sharp. Coarsing. Raging. Spreading. Just painful beyond all belief and beyond all comprehension and there was barely anything that he could do to fight it and there were barely any words that he could use to describe it and he was laying. Here. Behind a desk. Dying in unimaginable pain and unable to do anything about it because every breath felt like a steel trap closing on his lungs impaling them making sure every bit of pain and misery and fear came to the forefront and making sure every movement he made on this floor was as weak and as pointless as it possibly could be and making sure that he couldn’t do anything about this. Nothing. Nothing except the pain and the fear and the spreading warmth of his blood and the encroaching cold of his death and it hurt it hurt and he couldn’t think of anything else other than that.

Because he knew he was going to die here.

He knew that everything he had said about himself, the thing that he’d said would happen since the moment he woke up here was beginning to come true.

And he knew that he wasn’t going to achieve anything now. The list. Everything he wanted to do before the inevitable happened and everything that he had sacrificed in order to try and achieve it was pointless now. He’d said the wrong thing and now he was flailing about on the floor knowing that he was going to die any moment now.

He knew that.

But he couldn’t think about it.

Because the pain was coursing through his body. Raging. Spreading. Dull. Sharp.

And there was nothing here able to dull it.

There was nothing here that could make him forget.

Jeremy Frasier was going to die on this island, and he couldn’t think about anything other than that simple, plain fact.


He hadn’t heard the footsteps. He hadn’t heard her voice. All he knew and all he could see was the familiar shape standing above him.

Was it her?

He didn’t know.

He had to figure it out. He had to say something. Make sure.

“Fi-”

And the trap closed and the pain coursed through his body and he couldn’t even scream and he couldn’t even breathe and
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Love Runs Out · One-on-one Therapy