Making his way around the car, Kaoru glares down through the driver's window for a quiet moment before opening the door, the sound bringing your attention to the fact he's acting again if you didn't already notice.
The dazed man looks up at the silhouette. He sounds relieved as he starts to say, reaching out of the car to grab onto his arm. The voice sounds like the memory you just recalled, “You're… Oh yeah, yeah, thank God, you’re Walt’s kid, little-“
Everything’s cut off by the slam of the car door, the sound breaking bones, and the scream. Your vision blacks out again. Your senses are buried in concussive, turbid heat. You can't even tell if you're standing or not as the wave of feeling crushes you to the point it's hard to breathe, heartbeat raging.
The gentle wash of rain brings you to your senses. You see blood washing off the car door and through the grass, you see the gruesome pool of blood you’re standing in start to wash down to the riverbed. Looking towards the river, you see the man in the black hoodie standing with a hand held over a freshly lit cigarette, guarding it from the rain as he stares down at the slump of a mangled body in the shallow of the river.
He kicks him into the water and staggers back to his own car, each step through the forming mud wet and heavy.
At this point, you're still struggling to focus on any specific details, the ground looks like nothing but black and red smears beneath you as you try to orient yourself. All the light sources feel disorienting and blinding, white stabs of burning attention. The shape makes it to the car, and as the sedan starts to drive away, you reel as you're left in the dark; as you look down, you see a white chain around your throat. It goes taut and you're dragged down, falling—
and falling and falling and falling and falling, swirling through colors, dragged past unfamiliar faces, all partially covered up with splashes of paint, warped expressions that make your spine run cold, smiles sent your way as they pass. Then, instead of falling, you're sinking, passing through shades of red as if pulled, fully unable to breathe.
Then it all goes black and the last thing you see is a lattice of chains across a black sky. In the silence, a single chain breaks, insignificant in the vast web.
