Anon

Sam knew her boyfriend didn't want her to try and sneak into the warehouse, but she was determined to pull it off. After he had called her dull and overly careful, she was going to prove herself by bringing back the secret project the local candy maker was rumored to be working on; a fruit flavored throat losenge with alleged magical properties.

Kay groaned and stepped into the grimey bathroom. He hated this room. The people who rented it were always doing strange experiments and the like, so their kitchen and bathrooms were always filled with strange things and even stranger messes.

He stopped by the stink to wash off his face. When he was washing the kitchen, an assortment of goopy liquid had fallen on him from on top of the fridge and, even after wiping it away with a paper towel, there was still a sticky residue on his face. 

A year, maybe two. Glen had quickly grown tired of his life hooked up to a canister. Klestofer stopped visiting him after a few months, leaving him alone most days. Sometimes therapists came in and asked him questions. He would anawer truthfully, but they never did anything about his dark thoughts.

He often wished he would just pop. Or deflate. Or fall asleep and never wake up.