Help Us? Or Don't

Cerberus wasn't really much different than his previous self. He had always been quiet, reclusive, but he had never felt so tired and weak before. He had once been so intent on keeping track of how Albion and Scylla were, but over the last week or so he was just too sick to even get up to the front of the cell and call for them. He was laid back in the corner of the stone wedges of the floor and walls in his cell, he was in between both Albion and Scylla's cells.

The voices were nothing new or different to him. Though he had to admit seeing the ghostly fazes floating around was just a bit alarming. They didn't bother him so he assumed they at least weren't unfriendly. He wasn't sure if the glittering clouds could touch him physically though, he guessed he didn't care much about that either. It would take too much energy to try and fight them off and away.

He groaned as he barely moved a muscle, the side of his body must have been laid down on the floor for... how long? He couldn't tell. But the sores and blisters may have suggested much longer than was comfortable or at least normal. Occasionally he coughed, spitting out the ooze and trying to wipe it away off the floor with his paws and in turn making himself all crusty and ooze covered. It hurt to wipe away the older ooze off his face these days so it almost clumped together like hard glue under his eyes and chin. Was he waiting here for his death? At least he didn't seem to be so worried about it.

Healing Seasonal Prompt
Total Word Count: 283 words
Word Count Goal: 1500 words

"Cerberus Klein"