Level Zero - Villain!Bakugou Rehabilitation

27 || Suspicious Surroundings

Bakugou Katsuki's POV

Katsuki sat up straight. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple while panicked scarlet eyes stared straight in front of him, hazy and unfocused. A fair skinned hand reached upward to his head, fingers curling around the tufts of ashy blonde hair and tugging hard.

The pain it brought was sharp and abrupt, breaking through the numbness that had settled over him. More centred now, Katsuki finally registered his surroundings. Gaze jumping around like a cornered animal, the skittish boy took in everything that he could.

First it was the obvious things, like the room he was in. Blank walls rose up to almost twice Katsuki's height, meeting with an equally bare ceiling. Appearing as a sooty white in colour, their lengths were peppered with the occasional colourfully abstract piece of art, though to Katsuki it was nothing other than painful to look at.

The surfaces were reasonably clear too, though they were polished to an uncanny perfection. Its floor was a kind of neutral linoleum, adding a soothing feel to the mix, and was swept somewhat clean.

Katsuki himself was on a bed, with its duvet coloured a light-hearted shade of white that did not match his mood in the slightest. There was a single pillow, its case spotless and smelling of antiseptic, with sheets of the same quality. The entire structure was nothing more than a traditional mattress lying in the middle of the room on a sturdy steel frame, but the futon itself was feathery and soft.

There was a door too, almost invisible from how tightly it had been sealed to the walls. Katsuki considered briefly if he should test it for locks, but decided on waiting to attempt at finding more clues about his location first.

The smell in this place wasn't that of death or destruction like in the attic but it was fetid and acrid, like a hospital hall run by germaphobes. There was a sour edge to it as well though, like old soap and cheap steriliser. Both, perhaps.

There were noises too, muffled sound waves reaching Katsuki's notice from under the doorframe. Deep voices, distinctly male, rumbled somewhere beyond the boundaries Katsuki was enclosed in. Their heated tones suggested an argument of some description, but it was impossible to decipher any actual words from where Katsuki was.

And then the sensations came, making themselves known where they weren't welcome. A nauseous stinging feeling lanced through Katsuki's skull, and a burning heat tore up his parched throat. It was like a clawed hand, grappling its way through his mind and body, leaving a searing pain in its trail. Falling forwards onto his hands and knees, Katsuki clasped a hand over his lips as his body was racked with uncontrollable spasms.

Katsuki was left dry-heaving until his stomach was tied in knots, breathless, in pain and confused. What was wrong with him? Letting out a guttural cough as the coppery tang of blood flooded his torrid mouth, Katsuki curled in on himself and tried to ease out the aching discomfort. The throbbing swelled and increased in tormenting waves inside his head, small lulls giving false hope of an end before it came crashing down once more.

It was as though Katsuki's blood had become acid, eating at him from his own veins, intent on destroying him from the inside. It burned whether he moved or not, an inescapable net of horror and agony that had caught him in its snare where all he could do was writhe. Haggard breaths escaped his mouth, scraping like sandpaper all the way from his lungs to his tongue.

After what felt like forever and and a day the pain ebbed away, leaving Katsuki gasping for breath on the white bedsheets, nerves quivering and fingers twitching. He didn't understand. Why was his body so sick? Why did it feel like he was being cut up, like his body couldn't handle the oxygen it needed so dearly?