Daniel Webster stared in the mirror feeling a sense of discomfort and dread. Shirtless he pressed a hand along the cold smooth silvered glass, watching as his reflected image stared back, matching his concerned look. As he’d worked something felt..off, a sagging every so often would trip him up at work, he felt hot and sticky, but his body no longer produced sweat. Every once in a while he had ran his hand through his hair...it felt..fake..almost wig like in it’s nature. It had been hours since then and the small signs of something wrong only grew. He felt...trapped. His clothes which were new...felt less direct to his skin, and more like they were layered. Which is what lead him here. Standing in front of a mirror, trying to find..it. The problem. And then something caught his eye...his eyes. Slowly he leaned in staring, he leaned back as a millionthoughts rushed through is mind as he stumbled across the floor to the bathroom. He held out his eye lids with his left index and t