Sebastian's first instinct is to escape, jerk his arm free and get as far away as possible before the monster can get under his skin, into his head, bring all the pain to the surface and break him to pieces.

He's already struggling against the bruising grip on his arm, lashing out with a white knuckled fist, when something breaches the darkness, penetrates the pure terror racing through his veins.

A familiar voice. A light in the dark. A small safe bubble in the pitch black. It stills his heart, quiets the scream about to tear it's way free his chest. And in a single breath, he finds the courage to speak, risks drawing attention to himself, "Loki?"

But he can still feel the terror pressing in on him. He can hear them. Smell them. Feels a thousand white hot needles invading his mind and setting his skin on fire.

And this time he does scream.