He tried, but in the end, there was no way for Kyousuke to resist. His arms had too many deep cuts to act as a shield, and he didn't have the strength to try and push or kick Sora away. The claws sank right through his shirt and the layers of bandage, slicing away his scabs and digging even deeper. In an instant, his chest was covered in blood, which began to pool out as his heart rapidly pumped more into the wound.

As the creature tried to pry past his ribs, he gave a strange, strangled-sounding inhale, and his breath became ragged and disjointed. He could barely even breathe anymore, and something metallic was beginning to build in the back his throat. In face of this, he still struggled, still tried to put of some kind of resistance. He fingers fumbled weakly and blindly, trying to find the flashlight he'd lost in the scuffle of being pushed down again. ... He didn't know why. He wasn't even sure what he was doing. The only thought in his mind was that he had to do something, because it couldn't end now, not here, not like this. But he couldn't even grab it, his fingers too slick and weak. The handle slipped away from him, pushing the light towards them so that he could see what was happening to him far too clearly.