The spasm of the bronchial muscles pulled him violently from regular slumber. Their attempt to obstruct its free passage into the alveoli was not succeeding, but the obstruction of air reaching his lungs had become enough to wake him. His fingers aggressively clawed the sheets that were beside him, then his chest, then himself. Blued fingernails traced the contours of his neck, his jaw, his face with an intensity that had far surpassed panicked desperation by this point. He was determined not to die, those responsible were determined that he would. But even as he sought to relieve himself of the violent sensation of suffocation, to find for himself that crucial air, the confusion of the situation had already condemned him. It is incredibly reactive with the human body, very toxic. The eyes become irritated, the skin too, even at quite low levels, and can cause permanent lung damage if it isn't fatal. What was occurring now, to him, did not involve low levels. It is heavy, and thoroughly concentrated near where it falls. The delivery had been cleverly positioned as to not compromise this once given opportunity, to sufficiently incapacitate the victim, and then kill him. The green-yellow was readily, willfully drifting, it did not cease. A bed, and his, a common sanctuary of peace and security for the many hundreds of millions, had been but consumed by this toxic hell. He knows that he needs to give every resistance to the pain that severely hammered his head, and lift himself, else he can do nothing but inhale still more of it, suffocate and drown. His desperately mustered effort would only complicate this suffering. A panicked burst of intended, calculated movement saw too much reliance on the ability to use his legs. They had long surrendered their strength, and in the distraction of uncontrollable retching and the need to scream something from that parched mouth, he lost his only stability and arrived crashing from the bed onto the floor. But it was relentless, the substance cascading over the edge of the bed to conquer new ground in pursuit of the intended man. Before he could give in to the exhaustion and death, the sudden splutter of expelled quantities of yellow frothy fluid from his lungs was a gift of some relief. It most cases it would be a great relief, but his struggle was complicated from the start. If he could still see, he would be able to look across the room, at his reflection, and see for himself the violent red face that was now well contorted by strain, panic, and agony, the disgusting vomit that will soon become matted in his hair and beard when he finally gives in, and his shallow and very rapid respiration. He's becoming delirious. He is very shortly, no, he is now dead.