13 - And I'm certain life is terribly hard/When your life's a facade
[At first, when something hits the Dreamberry and turns it on, the camera is covered with something, making everything dim and grey aside from the sounds of deranged laughter and shattering porcelain. The breaking sounds continue even after whatever was covering the camera slips away to reveal Muraki in his apartment surrounded by the remnants of his treasured dolls. Torn fabric covers the carpet like colorful blotches of blood and lace against clean white floor, carefully-crafted eyes roll here and there despite one meeting a crunching end under Muraki's heel, and shards of elegant faces and limbs linger everywhere in view.]
I know I'm a broken doll, but how did he know that? How could anyone here know that?
[Something in Muraki's voice is clearly not right. He takes a few shaky breaths, rips the clothing off the doll in his hands, and flings her against the wall. Bits and pieces fly around, including several which find their way into Muraki's upper arm after they ricochet. He doesn't flinch, simply tugs them out and lets blood ooze into his sleeve.]
Why did he say that? What else did he do to me the other night? How much does he know?
[He grabs a doll's head and squeezes it until it breaks and slices a finger in the process. Her eyes thunk against the ground, blood drips onto them from his wounds, Muraki sighs as he looks at himself, and his glasses fall to the floor. As he bends down to pick them up, his head turns so he's finally looking at the Dreamberry straight on. He scowls, crunches over porcelain to step towards it, and smears blood across the camera as he picks it up.]
These things should come with a way to delete recordings.
[And with that, he clicks it off.]