Lockdown (Picture Day book 2; an II fanfic)

Deaths Door

(Some of this chapter was written by @horrorluv08, the rest was written by me, so I apologize if the writing style suddenly sucks.)

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Fan opened his eyes. At first, it was peaceful. He was calm. He was...content.

He sat up, a bit irritated due to waking from his deep sleep. Glancing around, he noticed two things right off the bat.

One, he was in a white room. He didn't know where he was.

Two, there was only one door. One, singular door, sitting directly in front of where he was sitting. He tried to recall what had happened, how he had arrived at this unknown location. He truly didn't know.

Think Fan. Think.

He stood up and began pacing back and forth. "My name is Fan," He began, talking to himself as a way to almost comfort him into believing he wasn't alone. "I am 15. My friends are...Paintbrush. Yeah, Paintbrush and Lightbulb, and...Balloon."

The memories came rushing back. Balloon helping him into the vent. Running from the MePhone. Finding Toilet! Ending up...

Ending up wherever 'here' was. He glanced around once more, a bit dazed. His head hurt. His head hurt. He remembered everything that had happened, and it terrified him. He remembered the bright flash, the oh so familiar bright flash. He wasn't expecting that. He wasn't ready for that. Not emotionally, at least. It was terrifying, it was like dropping yourself into a pool of icy water. The shock sets in quickly, and you're frozen in place with no clue what to do with yourself. Fan hated the idea of helplessness, but here he was. Helpless.

He took a moment to pat himself down-to see if he had anything useful on him. Unfortunately, there was nothing. The room was empty, uninhabited. Besides him, of course, but he wasn't in the mood to remember his isolation.

As his eyes scanned the room once more, he noticed something else. A familiar door. One of the doors he had to stare at for...how long? He had forgotten. Inside of the transparent box, the doors he hated to hear open.

He was back in the lab. Or maybe not. Maybe it was a similar version of the lab, but that didn't make it any better.

He stood up, only to find that he was trembling. His legs were weak, and his stomach burned with fear. Just the idea of being back in the lab sent him into that icy-cold-water type of shock. He stumbled to the door, trying his hardest to pry it open. Not only was it impossible, but his injured arm-the one he had forgotten about-wasn't any use. It only made things more difficult for him.

The panic soon set in. He was stuck. He was stuck in the lab again (or some sort of variant of it) and he couldn't get out. He knew the types of torture he'd have to go through once Cobs showed up. He knew what would happen, and the stress that came with the thought terrified him. His breathing picked up, and his vision immediately blurred with darkness. Nearly falling to his knees, he stumbled to the back of the room.

Taking a moment, he reminded himself to breathe. He took a moment to lay on the floor. He breathed in for 4 seconds. He held his breath for 4 more seconds. Finally, he released the air for 4 seconds. Rinse and repeat. This managed to get his heart to race just a bit less, his body to relax just a bit more, and his anxiety to wash away. Thank goodness for that.

He sat himself up, scooting himself to the back of the room, cornering himself and curling into fetal position. He was scared. No, he was terrified, but he had faced Cobs before! He could do it again! He could do it again...

The stillness of the room was unsettling. No movements. No designs. No decor. Just a barren room with a horrifying feel to it that made Fan's blood run cold. The blood that Cobs hadn't (probably) already taken, of course!