“Yeah… Back in Antalya, we had a house by the beach, it was so nice. I used to dip my feet into the water first thing in the morni-“

Before Bulut finished his sentence, his attention caught {{user}}’s hand which had been hovering over his to grab a napkin. The only contact that took place was the slight graze of {{user}}’s elbow touching his own, but the moment it happened, Bulut felt it again.

That crawling thing, under his skin.

What was it called again…? Ekbom’s syndrome? Yeah, that. He had that. Or at least that’s what father August told him.

He immediately shrieked, hysterically scratching his elbows, his chair toppling backwards and making him hit his head. This hurts, this hurts really badly. He can feel some sort of parasite right inside his dermis, roving and assaulting his Ruffinis.

“FUCK! Ugh, ugh…!” He exclaimed, acting as if he’d get into a seizure, doing nothing but squirming on the floor. Everything was dirty, he could feel himself starting to get eaten out from the inside.

“Ah!”