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(You obviously haven't experienced the magic of true love yet. </3 )

 

Vernon opened his eyes slowly, looking around. Everything was dark - very visible and clear, but dark. His mind was empty, and he coughed.

 

"Dear god...My mind..."

 

He clutched his head, shouting and screeching in agony. Memories flowed out of him, as he screamed more, a burning sensation ripping apart his mentality. He ran to the door, pushing it over, clutching his hand as it lit aflame, turning black and white. He finally hit the ground, coughing and yelling.

 

"Eva-!" He shouted with his last breath, fading out of reality, as he awoke in a strange, surreal world.

 

"Where...where am I?"

 

"You're in your own mind, lad," came the laugh of an old man, "and I only see fit to invite your friends.

 

He looked around. It was a gigantic desert littered with decaying buildings, and the sky above him was red.

 

"They say there's mental gold in these here ancient buildings. You know, this is your last safe place - the gas let off in the engine room seems to have taken over your mind. The conflicting in your head is causing your insanity, and death."

 

"Death!?" Vernon gasped, exasperated.

 

"That's a bit of a hyperbole - you're technically dead. Though, should our soldiers succeed, then worry not. You'll come out alive."

 

Vernon looked down. Dead. Before anything. All he had in his life was someone who cared for him - all his friends, even his family became members of the psychic army.

 

"Oh goodness," the man said. "A sandstorm is heading this way."

 

Vernon looked up at the clouding red sky.

 

He was dead, everyone betrayed him, the last parts of his mind were getting smaller and smaller - welcome to Hell.

 

He looked down.

 

"Don't worry. Your brain is still functioning for 48 hours. They have time. As long as they don't do something silly like take you to a doctor."

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