The green latex image of a rotting skull hung tightly to Frank Graham's skin, his face a long since forgotten memory. A trickle of blood escaped from his dehydrated lips, a sign of organ failure and internal bleeding. There appeared no intake of oxygen, no rise and fall of inflating lungs. Inside the mask, two black pits hid demonic eyes, cold, merciless eyes, clamped shut. Until a flicker, a single twitch, steadily, gradually...