There was something that he needed to remember but he did not know what. Nor does he remember what he was doing in a dark room alone with the full moon high. The man with black hair and dark eyes were burning like a hot fire on a cold winter day. He looked around the dark empty room, but he did not see anything. Why? Was he blind? Is this his reality? Him not seeing anything because the room was dark or was it because he cannot see anyway? He sighed and blinked but the room was still dark. He closed his eyes. He then smelled the room because if he was blind then his senses were enhanced. It smells like blood and oil; the room and he had wanted to cover his nose, but his hand was stiff and throbbing much like the rest of his body. He decided not to worry about his sift body now and sighed when the room was still dark. He then allowed himself to fall into more darkness.

W hat did he feel when he woke up was that he was laying on his back on a bed? He decided to go with bed. He felt that it was stained and soaked with something. His eyes opened slowly at this. The man let out a sharp breath when he felt something wet on him. He felt it on his skin as he moved around uncomfortably. However, this made his body even stiffer. His eyes moved to his legs when he felt a chill below his knees and on his feet. He could feel a sharp tingle on his legs and feet. He wanted to move around again but his body was so stiff. Next, he looked at the sheets, but it was so dark that he did not see them, however, he could smell them. He felt the thickness of that substance that stained the bed. He then realizes that he was bleeding but why? Why was he bleeding? It was sticky and wet, the blood. He started to breathe fast as if someone pulled his heart out of his chest. What was this Fear; was this why his vision was dark? Is this what he's feeling? Is this why his chest hurt so much, and it was hard to breathe? His eyes started to water, in pain. Is this what pain feels like. He shook his head and then went back to what he was doing for he was getting lost in his empty head. The dark-haired man lifted his right arm and touched his chest and shirt. He liked the feeling of it, his shirt. The soft material made him feel a little better. He let smiled as he moved his hand around it making his hand covered in the warm blood. He liked watching his throbbing hand move around the blood on his shirt, not wanting to stop. His other hand grabbed the sheets and did not let go with his knuckles turning white. Much like his face as his heart started pubbing again just like before only this time he liked it. He shook his throbbing head to calm himself and removed his hand from his shirt before he closed his eyes. However, he wondered why he was laying on this bed as he looked at his other hand after he released the sheets. This hand also felt like it was coved in blood. He smiled darkly but then quickly frowned because he should not smile at the sight of this. He cleared his throat and went back to why he was still lying here. Was it because of the pain that he felt? What is this pain? Is this what he was feeling? Why did he feel it, what the hell was going on? Or was it because he does not want to move out of fear of falling over. What was this fear that he felt? Is this what he had felt earlier when he was feeling his shirt? Was he even alive? He shook his head at the last thought and sighed when his vision was still dark. The black-hair man closed his eyes and went through his mind for answers, but he got nothing. No answers at all. He wished that he had some answer to this. He tried looking around again when he opened his eyes, but the room was still dark. He let out a noise that came from his throat, it did not sound human. His body started to shake after this, he was in no control over this shaking. No matter how hard he tried to calm himself. He gave up on his however and decided to ignore this shaky feeling and started to think about how he could move his arms but not his body.

A few minutes later, however, when he tried to move his legs, his heart started to beat faster and faster again. He was starting to get annoyed by this as he rolled his eyes. Shaking his head as he does so. He had to let out a sharp breath to stop this even though this did not work. His legs felt like they were metal rods that were changed to the bed and his heart was still going crazy. Giving up on trying to move he decided to look around the small room even though he still did not see anything because the room was so dark, and he hated this, the darkness. This is when a feeling of being closed in filled his mind. His throat tightened as if the whole room lost all air. He could not breathe at all. He wanted to call for help as his hands moved to his heart to see if it was still breathing fast and it was. He did not find his voice to call for help. However, he heard a voice in his head say something. The voice said:

'Welcome to your life now. Having fun? Well, are you? Do you love your life now?' He closed his eyes as he looked around for this voice, but he did not see anyone because the room was so dame dark. 'What did happen? What happened? What happened? Why can't I…. why can't I….?' The voice said again but he did not see anything.

"Why can't I… and who said that?" He said shocked by the sound of his voice. He jumped at the sound of it, raspy and tired but there was something else, but he did not know what it was. After he stopped trying to find that voice in the room with him, he decided to direct himself. He delisted to try to move his legs again however when the man tried this a shot of pain went through him. Now he knows why he has not moved yet but why did he feel this? He let out a sharp breath before he tried again, but again a sharp shot of pain went through his legs. He let out an annoyed sigh and closed his eyes for a minute before he opened them again and tried once more. The third time his legs moved. Next, he slowly swung his feet around the blood-stained bed that smelled so bad that he almost threw up. He looked around once he got to his feet, but he had to hold onto the bed that was just as tall as him. He hummed when he wished that the room was lit but maybe he was blind that's it. He's blind so he will never see anything. He wanted to move and try to hear if anyone was in this room because of that voice that he heard earlier but he felt stuck because his legs still were metal rods that were stuck to the floor now. "What happened?" he asked once again hoping that someone will speak to him because of that voice that he heard. The walls closing in even more now and he had to close his eyes to stop this but that did not work. "The walls," he said randomly voice thick with pain and confusion. The raspiness was still in his voice. He then started to swing his arms around to loosen them. He did the same with his legs once he sat back down "The walls," he said again putting his head in his hands making his face covered in blood. In his mind, in his vision, he realized that he could only see white, black, and red. This scared him but it seemed all too familiar to him. His eyes grew wide at this after he removed his face from his hands. "Is this why the room was dark?" He asked the room still hoping that someone was in there with him. Why could he not see color? Why only red as a bright color? "What is going on?" He added as he moved his head when he felt the blood on his face. "And why did I do that?" He gaged when the blood almost went into his mouth when he spoke. He wiped the blood off his face, but this only made things worse. So, he looked at the sheets and smiled when the idea came to his mind. He then ripped apart of the sheets so that he could have a little cloth and wiped it over his face to get rid of the blood that he stupidly put on his face. When he was done he threw the part on the sheet on the bed and closed his eyes lost in thought about this because thinking about this was better than thinking about how he could not remember anything. What was he supposed to remember?

After a long hour of this, he stood up and smiled when that pain left a little. However, he still felt weird and closed in. "The walls. The walls are closing in!" He called to that voice that he still believes is in this room with him. He then started to walk around this dark room trying not to run into things. This was hard because it was so hard to see, and his legs were shaking like crazy. He then ran into a small table with his barefoot. He let out a sharp breath and sat down on the ground of the room right by the table that he ran into. He closed his eyes and held onto his foot, with a sigh. "What is happening to me?" he asked calming himself down when he realized that he was alone. Alone in this dark room with no color to his vision.

After a while sitting on the floor in this, cold, confining, and somewhat quiet room and with pain in his hand, the door opened making him feel less closed in. He stood when the light that he hoped for filled the room. A lightness filled him like he was free from a cage, like an animal. He felt so light that he looked at the table hoping that his vision was just being weird in the darkness. However, the lightness was gone from him when he saw the table on it had dead blood-stained white flowers in a vase staring at him. He at this moment was starting to hate blood but he could not stop staring back at the flowers. He let out an inhuman grow again and stared at the flowers. He closed his eyes. He felt his heart flutter and he felt like cheering when he saw the brightness of it, but he hated the blood on the flowers. He then narrowed his eyes and knocked over the vase making it shatter on the table and onto the floor. He hated how they stared at him just like a wolf in candlelight. He felt his heart flutter again after he did this, and he was liking this feeling. Not his heart beating so fast that he could not breathe. However, the flutter stopped as he watched a shard of glass from the vase cut open his palm that was laying on the table. The black-haired man let out a pain-filled cry as he grabbed onto his damaged hand. He had to grip on the table with his good hand to keep him from falling over from the smell of blood. Which filled his nose making him turn away not caring about the large cut on his hand. "Ow that hurts? Oh, that is what pain is. I thought it was, ow," he said with a little bit of cheerfulness to his voice. This alarmed him for he liked the pain. "What kind of man am I?" he asked looking down to his hand. The cut was deep, but he did not care. He shook his head and looked up to the table that was littered with flower petals and wet bright red blood. His breath started to get faster as he looked to the now open door with wide eyes when he saw something shine on him. It was bright and he could see it. He yelled and cheered without realizing it and started to dance around the room and screamed before he started to jump at the sight of it. He saw something bright, not dark. He was still dancing and spinning around the room. That lightness was back, and he did not want it to go away. He saw the moon. Yes, that's it, he saw the moon; he saw its bright color and it was not red. He stopped dancing when he felt weak. He stared at it wanting to run out and hold on to it. He was so mesmerized by the bright full moon that he did not see a man looking at him. When he did look at him he raised an eyebrow for he did not know him, yet he saw light and happiness in his eyes.

"Dorian! Oh, thank goodness. We thought we lost you!" the man said running over to him to hug him tight and never let go but he stopped and stared at him when he saw the blood. The man looked at him with a frown forming on his face. The dark-haired man looked at the other whom he heard a British accent. What was that though? Is that how he sounds like? Does he have one as well? Why could he not remember? What was he supposed to remember? "Dorian?" the man asked looking at the confused man who lowered his gaze to look at his bare, bruised, cut up feet. Then he looked at the bright white moon again with a smile forming on his cut-up face. He then looked back at this man before he pointed to his chest with his bloody hand.

"Um," he said looking around confused and dropping his hand wincing in pain. "I um, need to get out of here. Can you help me please sir?" He asked looking at the moon. The brightness of it felt like a warm hug and It called to him. He felt his heart flutter again before he rocked on the balls of his feet waiting for an answer.

"What are you talking about? Dorian, it's me your best friend. We met in the wood when you were five. We ran through the woods together and laughed when that prank you and me pulled on my nasty mother went right. Oh, Dorian, I saved your life last year. You…. Oh, please don't make me say it. Dorian, you almost…..the…..the poison. Remember? Oh, Dorian your hand! What happened? Your face? I knew I should have been there with you," the other man looked at this man raising an eyebrow, but he shook his head and slowly started to walk to the door. However, the other stopped him with his hand on his arm. "Dorian? What's wrong?" he looked at him confused once again. "Let me help your hand,"

"Who the hell is Dorian? Why do you keep calling me that? I don't care about my hand! Why do you care about me?" he snapped at this man that he does not even no his name. The man looked at the injured man with tears were running down his scared opened wound face. At this moment, the dark-eyed man looked at the other from the light of the moon shining on him. This man looked sad yet happy for some reason that he could not place. He was tall with tears falling down his face. He could not see what color his hair was, but he could see that it was short. There was a little bit of blood on his face that came from the open wound over his eye. 'Was there a battle?' thought he running his uninjured hand through his hair. 'Who is he? Maybe I should ask him right?' He thought staring at the moon. "Who are you? I'm sorry sir but I don't know you," the man looked at him wide-eyed and trying to quiver in sadness. The black-haired man noticed that this man missed and cared for him. How come though he could not remember anything?

"It's…. it's Victor. Victor Fraylock? Remember me?" the confused man shook his head and walked to the door again.

"No, I don't. leave me alone!" he called before he stormed out of the room running into the door because his legs were wobbly, and he was still getting used to his legs.

It was cold, the night and Dorian liked it, the cold. It's how he felt inside because of this stupid empty feeling. Why though? Why did he feel this way? What was that thing that he had to remember? He knows that he had to, but he could not place it. Was it his name? No, it wasn't because that man, Victor told him that it was Dorian. Well, that's a good thing that he remembers his name, right? "I should get some help," Dorian said aloud with a sigh as he looked around in the darkness of the moon that he could see so clearly. How come his memory could not be like that? Clear as the full moon? "Can someone help?" Dorian called out to the empty streets. However, he did not hear anything for it was too dark and late to go out on the streets. Dorian did not care though because he wanted to be alone right now, even though he knows that he shouldn't be alone with an empty head. Dorian looked around him, but he did not remember anything that he saw. So, he decided to take it all in. He was in a city of some kind, but the fog started to roll in, so it was hard to see anything because of his stupid vison. He shook his head and saw the buildings, tall and high. The fog covered the bottom of each building and it slowly rose to almost the top of them, but the buildings were so hard to see because the buildings were just a big-black blob. He decided to get lost in his thoughts about what he knows at this moment. 'Ok, so my name is Dorian and I'm in a city but which one?' "What's that?" Dorian said aloud looking ahead of him a shape appeared in front of him in the thick fog, a human shape. Dorian watched as the man walks out of the fog. Only, the man was not normal. For one thing, his skin looked dead and pale. His eyes were well, it was hard to see his eyes, but he could not stop staring at them for they were staring back at him. Dorian did not like how they were staring at him. It was just like the flowers back in that blood filled room. The man smiled darkly and walked over to Dorian who started to walk away from him, but he stopped when the man called out to him in a calming and smooth voice. Why is the fear getting to him? He wants to be scared but this voice makes him calm. This does not make sense to Dorain. He stood there and waited for this inhuman man to walk over to him. He rocked on his feet again. Only this time he was nervous. His stomach twisted and he had to put his hands to it to make is stop but this did not work.

"Hello there and what are you doing out in these streets at night? Get over here," the man said walking right up to Dorian who got to see his eyes now. They were red, bright red. Dorian tried to look away from them but for some reason, this is not posable. "Ah, hello good sir. Now, what are you doing out here? It's not safe for humans," the man said to Dorian who looked at him sharply and with fear in his dark eyes.

"What…..what do you mean humans? Are you saying that you are not? Sir, I may not remember anything, but I know that that's not true. You look human," the man laughed at Dorian before he took his arm making his hand bloody. This made Dorian sick because he could feel his blood drain from his arm. He looked up to this man who looked up at the bright full moon and laughed darkly as he ran his bloody hand over his face as If he wanted to drink the warm, sticky blood. However, he did not say anything as he does this. Dorian was sickened by this as he tried to pull free from this mad man who laughed again. As he started to get weaker and weaker by the second. Was it because of that blood that he has lost or was it something else unworldly? Dorian did not know as the smell of blood and oil-filled his nose. Only it was mixed with something else that he could not place. Then the world around him started to go fuzzy like his mind, and the dark-haired man fell to the ground as the world went dark before his eyes.