She dreams in color, she dreams in red...
Mireille can be seen walking slowly down a long, ornate hallway, the walls painted in beautiful yellows and golds, the floor covered with fancy tile work.. Outside the windows she passes a vineyard can be seen, and the occasional farmer working in a field. The hallway is decorated with beautiful vases and paintings, obviously expensive. She is dressed in a frilly white dress that just about reaches her knees, but looks like it was designed for a child, and has a crown of wildflowers twisted through her hair. In her left hand is her pistol, her fingers wrapped so tightly around the hilt her knuckles are white. Her steps are slow, mechanical, as if she were moving along at someone else's command, and that she did not wish to be doing so.
Every few moments a featureless figure appears in the hallway, sometimes bursting out of a door or running into view from the side, and sometimes just appearing before her out of nothing. Her arm moves quickly, efficiently, the gun swinging this way and that as she shoots them, and every time one of them groans in pain and collapses everything seems to flare red, just for a second. Mireille's face remains impassive, disinterested, it would be hard to even guess she knew where she was. She doesn't even look as she shoots, her eyes never leave the floor and she never stops walking, ignoring the puddles of blood her bare feet pass through and barely lifting her feet enough to step over the bodies before her.
Eventually the hallway seems to age, the paint fading, the paintings covered up with cloth sheets, the vases cracked and chipped, before it ends at a large set of beautiful white wooden doors, closed and locked with the key sitting in the keyhole. Mireille stops, lifting her head slightly, staring at the door. Her free hand is shaking faintly, and she raises it to press into her forehead for a moment. "No..." She murmurs, and her whole body jerks as she tries to turn away, but her blood-soaked feet seem rooted to the floor.
"Please, no, not ag-" There is a gunshot from behind the door, followed a moment later by two more, and the heavy, wet sound of bodies hitting the floor. Mireille's entire body jumps with each shot, her eyes wide and wild, searching the door and hallway as if desperate for some escape. A song can be heard through the doorway, distant, haunting, and it seems to make her panic greater. She reaches for the key to unlock the door and it fades to dust the moment her fingers touch it, drawing a little groan of despair from her lips. A kick to the door does nothing but leave a bloody footprint on the formerly perfect white surface.
She raises the pistol, firing three times into the lock, and the doors burst open to reveal a massive entrance room, with tall white columns and thatched windows. Mireille enters slowly, despite her panic, her pistol hanging at her side again. There are three bodies on the floor, a man, a woman, and a teenage boy, all perfectly still, with blood on the floor around them. Mireille stops once her eyes settle on them, just staring, and then turns to face the open front doors.
A figure stands there, shadowy, indistinct, except for a large silver watch it holds in its left hand, which can be seen with perfect detail. The music is coming from the watch, and it seems to get louder and louder with each passing second.
And then the distant figure closes it with a much-too-loud click, the music shuts off, and Mireille screams....
Every few moments a featureless figure appears in the hallway, sometimes bursting out of a door or running into view from the side, and sometimes just appearing before her out of nothing. Her arm moves quickly, efficiently, the gun swinging this way and that as she shoots them, and every time one of them groans in pain and collapses everything seems to flare red, just for a second. Mireille's face remains impassive, disinterested, it would be hard to even guess she knew where she was. She doesn't even look as she shoots, her eyes never leave the floor and she never stops walking, ignoring the puddles of blood her bare feet pass through and barely lifting her feet enough to step over the bodies before her.
Eventually the hallway seems to age, the paint fading, the paintings covered up with cloth sheets, the vases cracked and chipped, before it ends at a large set of beautiful white wooden doors, closed and locked with the key sitting in the keyhole. Mireille stops, lifting her head slightly, staring at the door. Her free hand is shaking faintly, and she raises it to press into her forehead for a moment. "No..." She murmurs, and her whole body jerks as she tries to turn away, but her blood-soaked feet seem rooted to the floor.
"Please, no, not ag-" There is a gunshot from behind the door, followed a moment later by two more, and the heavy, wet sound of bodies hitting the floor. Mireille's entire body jumps with each shot, her eyes wide and wild, searching the door and hallway as if desperate for some escape. A song can be heard through the doorway, distant, haunting, and it seems to make her panic greater. She reaches for the key to unlock the door and it fades to dust the moment her fingers touch it, drawing a little groan of despair from her lips. A kick to the door does nothing but leave a bloody footprint on the formerly perfect white surface.
She raises the pistol, firing three times into the lock, and the doors burst open to reveal a massive entrance room, with tall white columns and thatched windows. Mireille enters slowly, despite her panic, her pistol hanging at her side again. There are three bodies on the floor, a man, a woman, and a teenage boy, all perfectly still, with blood on the floor around them. Mireille stops once her eyes settle on them, just staring, and then turns to face the open front doors.
A figure stands there, shadowy, indistinct, except for a large silver watch it holds in its left hand, which can be seen with perfect detail. The music is coming from the watch, and it seems to get louder and louder with each passing second.
And then the distant figure closes it with a much-too-loud click, the music shuts off, and Mireille screams....