I'm flashing in and out of conciousness, pain burning my skin to crisp. 

The other one left, but the one with fire in the form of ice is still here, occasionally reaching out from his seat to carve scars in my skin. He's bored, I can tell, even with the rocketing pain, but he's not going to leave. He's probably powerful enough to kill the other one, but, for some reason, he doesn't. He just sits here. 

I think his name is Xuimin.

I think he killed my father. 

But I think that the other, whatever his name is, ordered him to. 

The other one killed by brother. 

But, if the other's word is anything to go by, there's another one. There's another player in this horrible, killing game. I should be afraid of him, not them. But I am afraid of Xuimin, and the other one. 

Why should I not be? 

They are killers, after all. They have poison on their fingertips and blood in their eyes. I don't like to admit it, but I am afraid. I am allowed to be afraid. Everyone should be allowed to fear; fear is a terrible thing, but fear can save your life. Fear can lead to caution, and caution can lead to your life being saved. 

But here, fear is nothing. I can't do anything. I can only bear the pain, and wait, for something to happen. Whether it be I die, or I get rescued, I'm simply waiting. 

Waiting.

Fire is everywhere. Fire is in my lungs, fire is in my veins, fire is in my heart. 

Let me go.

Let me go.

~~~

He's dead. 

But he's not. He's here, he's in front of me, but I don't know this person. I don't know this killer, in front of me, that used to be a boy. Three years ago, he disappeared. For good, we thought, but it wasn't good at all. We missed him. But I also know that all of us, I think, silently were relieved.

He was slowly breaking in front of our eyes.

He was dying in front of our eyes.  

It was mercy, I thought then, when he left and he didn't come back. Mir wasn't as he used to be. He was suffering. He was, I believe, going mad. 

So what happened? What did they do to him, to make him so strong and so steady and so controlled with his anger, with his fury. He's glowing with it, that anger and hate at the world, but he is somehow able to trap it away, but not enough that's gone. Enough that it doesn't control him; he controls it, and he controls it well.

What did they do to him? 

Why? 

~~~

I can't take the pain, but I can't fade. I won't let me. Why won't I let me?

I want to. 

Please. 

I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. 

I can't.

Help me. 

Please