A oneshot you requested a bit ago

TW: Torture and death

Zace just wanted to go home, even if he knew it was burning.

But he wanted to escape. He was scared. And in pain worse than fire could bring.

When he first landed in... wherever he was - full of ghosts and spirits that didn't seem to like the fact he was there - it was hard to see. And move and talk.

Most of his torso felt like it was burning, and the fluttery light made the colors around him shift and gleam until it was impossible to distinguish anything.

A hand grabbed his Smokey hair and forcefully pulled him to the side. "Who are you?" A voice echoed, though Zace could hardly find the energy to understand. The person then grabbed hold of his arm, not caring about the painful burns and the way his skin was practically bubbling.

At that point, he would rather be dead. But it just got worse.

Apparently, the people here didn't like Dream Demons that much.

Slashing.

Burning.

Hitting.

Slamming.

Really didn't like Dream Demons.

Slash slammed his head against the wall again. He could hardly hear anything, but he knew he was shouting.

It had been like this for... how long?

Two years now?

He was... twelve?

...

Wasn't that messed up?

It was almost funny.

Funny how Axolotl-damn worthless everything had turned out to be. He turned out to be.

He was a screw-up and he ruined everything everywhere he was. He couldn't even bring himself to think what his siblings would think of him now.

They would probably be disappointed.

He was.

It was funny.

He couldn't help but laugh.

That just made him laugh.

Even as Slash threw him across the cell in frustration, pained laughs came out in effortful wheezes.

Suddenly, a sharp pain exploded in his back. Then again. And again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

His body gave up.

And so did he.

It was hopeless.

And like that, it was over.