”Blood. Blood everywhere. Red rain is all around me. I can’t see anything but red. Am I mad…?”
A character in a stylish black raincoat was running alongside a wall, clutching onto it with the remains of his strength. Light bulbs flashed, making everything bright and then disappearing again, as if playing a malicious game of hide and seek.
”Chest. My chest. I hear nothing from it. I feel nothing from it. No beating. Where is she?”
He continued taking weak steps; his mind was hallucinating, making him see crimson liquid everywhere. His breaths were rapid and unsteady, as if he was gasping for the last bits of air that to him smelled like copper.
”Why… Why did I do this? The court… The devil… My heart… Where is my heart?” – the thoughts were popping into his mind, showering his brain in a waterfall of insane questions that he had no answers to.
He fell onto his knees and started to drawl, his hands were beginning to tie up in the darkness of the raincoat. He felt powerless and weak. He didn’t want to get up because that would take precious time. He was running away.
”You’re not going to make it… You’re not going to make it…” –he looked onto his left, and saw a prison cell with blood all over the walls. Little children were singing in a haunting tune, all staring at him with their huge and innocent eyes. Each one of them was holding a still beating heart in his hands. The hearts were pumping out blood onto the floor, making it wet and drowning the entire prison, where the Keyblader had been tormented for the last several years.
”Blood. Hearts. Which one is my heart… Run. Time is flooding the whole place. How can there be time where there is no ticking?”
”There is ticking… Time is kind of like a heart. Time ticks. Heart beats…” – he wasn’t realizing that his thoughts were being spoken out loud. The blood seemed to have flood the entire prison, it was almost reaching his lips.
”Drink it… You’re thirsty. Blood tastes like copper. Drink it. Love it…’ – his lips almost touched the liquid that had now soaked his coat, as he stood on all fours, completely drenched in the liquid he had never spilled.
”Drink it. Maybe one of them is yours… And be like him? No. Then be like what?” – he managed to shake himself out of it. The children were singing the same creepy tune that bounced around his mind like an echo. He stood up and pressed on, despite that blood was slowing his already defeated self down.
”I fought the devil. I have no heart. He is after me. Why would he be? I don’t have any time.” – the monotone thoughts kept pressing the barrier of sanity, like the blood was pushing the door that stood in front of him. He focused his last bits of energy and punched through the door.