Crimson

"WOAH SHIT!"

Michael was scared when he suddenly saw his feet dangling in the air, but a hand clasped onto his shoulder gently.

"Worry not, I've got you," Will said, before letting his grasp go.

Michael flinched, thinking he was gonna fall, but realized he simply remained in the air. It felt a little weird, but he didn't mind it too much after a handful of seconds had passed.

It felt as if he was being held up by an invisible hand that was gently wrapped around his body.

He then turned his attention to his surroundings.

A domineeringly large industrial factory was in front of them. Smokestacks that rose from the top of the various blocky buildings spewed out dirty, pollution ridden by-products into the air unceasingly.

The sky was marred by those billowing clouds of pollution, and the entire area was filled with a dirty green haze.

Each building had several pipes of varying sizes covering their exteriors, with many of them piercing the earth, going to other buildings or the nearby mines. In the distance, he could see the factory's residential district, where several large gray buildings dirtied by the soot of the factory were placed.

They were the barracks.

He then turned his attention towards the area he had been working in, seeing how the ground was freshly dug up, revealing a large pipe that could fit a person inside of it. Other pipes had been dug up too, but he focused on the one he died in.

He saw how the people around the area were still working like nothing happened.

Will flew himself and Michael over to take a closer look, and Michael was shocked. He saw himself in there, in the middle of welding a structural break back together. It had been causing a leak that could prove dangerous if left unchecked…

"How?"

"We are in the past, about five minutes before the time of your death. I'll show you the circumstances of your death. I'll give you some time to brace yourself first, though. You'll need it."

Michael looked around the factory. He had a gut feeling this would be the last time he ever saw it. He turned his attention back to the barracks, his prison.

'Jon… Matt… Trevor… Rose… Sophia… Jerryl…'

'...'

'Olivia…'

Those were people that he had cried with. People that he had laughed with. People that he showered and even shit with…

To give a bit of context, the "company" did everything possible to cut costs in order for "corporate" to rake in as many profits as possible.

The only insurance the company paid for was life insurance, and it didn't even go to their families, nor even their fellow workers; the payout went directly to the company's Chief Executive Officer.

At least fifty people would live in a single "room," which was more of a hallway than a room. They slept in cheap bunk beds, they had one bathroom per room at the end of the hall, with no barriers to speak of.

Which was to say, in short, that privacy didn't exist in the barracks.

If one needed to use the bathroom, they were forced to do it in the open. If one needed to shower, they had to shower in the open. If one needed to change, they changed in the open. If one needed to lose themselves in loveless sex, they did it in the open.

Michael had had sex with all of his female friends at one point or another, but there was nothing behind it. Their work was dangerous, and any day could be their last, especially if they were to work in the mines.

They all needed something to do, something to feel alive, if only for a few hours a day.

For Michael, there was nothing behind it, except for when it came to Olivia. Olivia only ever had eyes for Michael. They would spend nights in each other's arms, and somehow the following day would feel easier.

What they had was the closest thing to love anyone could manage in that hellhole.

Yet, Michael couldn't offer that same exclusivity back.

When even the smallest amount of money could mean the difference between eating properly and starving for weeks, anyone would take every extra cent they could manage.

Because of his outstanding features, he made a lot of money in the barracks. The only thing he could do to curb his guilt was extend his earnings towards Olivia, and she couldn't complain.

Her complexion and overall health improved by leaps and bounds thanks to his help, after all...

Michael bathed in the few warm, happy memories his psyche could offer from this hellhole to prepare himself.

"I think I'm ready."

"Come, then."

The two gracefully flew towards the building from which the pipe came. When they phased through the walls, Michael's vision turned dark.

Just as quickly as it disappeared, his vision returned, and a familiar sight greeted him.

Several people walked around in hazmat suits, walking on raised platforms above giant vats of chemicals.

Their job was simply to stand guard and ensure no unauthorized personnel got near. It would be a simple job if not for the fact that the suits were cheap, and most of them would be deathly ill by the end of the year.

Will and Michael continued onwards, flying towards Section 2B's Managerial Office. They then stopped again.

"This is going to hurt, Michael. You can move on without seeing this."

"I've already made up my mind, Will. Stop warning me and show me what happened."

Will took a deep breath and let out a pensive sigh. And then, the two crossed through the wall.

Michael's pupils constricted to pinpricks as he went slack-jawed.

He figured it would be bad considering the multiple warnings, but it seemed even his wildest expectations fell short of reality. His teeth grit together to the point of being painful, and his arms began to shake with fury.

The brilliant silver flames surrounding his body became a brutal crimson.