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~ [i]The Maw of Despair[/i] ~[/center]

In the panic of the scenario, Shaun had forgotten to think. He followed Krista as every Infinite they could find went about searching every nook and cranny plausible for his handbook. To see so many talented people, banded together in unison for a common goal, he almost felt awed. He didn't forget to feel. Deep set into head was a dull headache, slowly his thoughts; deep set in his stomach was nausea, that slowed his movement; and deep set into his chest, a heavy dread slowed his progress, leaving him trailing behind as the two explored Axis Mundi, keeping up as best he could.

When they came to the first floor, and Ice declared the discovery of the smoke, the dread gradually grew worse. His thoughts echoed with suspicion and nervous, afraid what they would all find, in his own room no less. The thoughts stung at his morale, leaving him clinging in despair, praying desperately nothing bad would come of the events past. 

The moment Krista uncovered his handbook, thrown mercilessly into the mound of garbage that had been piled up over their stay, adrelanine rushed through his body, overtaking his senses in nervous anticipation. Feeling returned, overpowering the dread, headache, and nausea for the briefest of second, and the group crowded around his door. Everything was going to be alright, he thought, raising his scarf over his face to block the smoke. 

Standing directly behind Krista and Ice, Shaun watched as the Violinist scanned his handbook, and pushed the door inwards. In response, a black cloud belched forth from the room, and up unto the ceiling of the corridor they found themselves crowded in. The sound of extractor fans filled his ears, and soon the room cleared of the dark miasma that filled it.

Except in the span of a second he wished it hadn't. 

Thrice already had he seen it happen. Thrice had he watched the maw of despair, the final moments or aftershadow of those he once knew. When his parents died, that was one thing; he never saw their bodies, just heard what had happened. But in Axis Mundi, the hospital for the Infinitely Talented among society, a place of healing and hope, he had already watched the lives of three others come to a short, tragic, and unfavourable close.

The sight was more gruesome than he could have realised possible, and his eyes scrunched close at the mere sight of it. 
[colour=SlateBlue]"Th-tha-n-n-"[/colour] were the muffled, pained sounds that escaped his lips before the hope and adrenaline that had built up in his core crashed down around him, kicking up dust and debris as it collapsed. Everything he had felt up until that moment rushed back ten fold, sparking a furious pain in his stomach that clawed its way viciously up his throat.

Shaun's eyes opened again, for just a second, and looked upon the sight for the second time. In the instance, everything went numb, and his hearing ceased in static - the sounds of his fellows drowned in white noise and shock. His knees buckled, reducing him to the cold floor baked softly in the residual heat of the room, and he collapsed onto all fours. His hand reached to his face, pushing away the scarf as in sudden haste, and went to cover his mouth, but too late, as a stream of lquid bile and vomit rushed from within him, painting the white floor a sickly yellow and green. 

He coughed, and soon mixed into the puddle were fresh tears that streamed down Shaun's face, dripping from his chin and cheeks into his stomach contents surrounded by his friends, as he fell down into anguish and despair.

An ugly despair.