Guahn, Impudite of Nightmares, did not know why his Mistress had called him in. He did not look up at her, kept his eyes trained on the floor as if showing deference. He watched the blood shifting under the glass surface of it and swallowed, hard. A look had been enough - his Mistress wrapped in her misty Victorian gown, thin and sharp, her 'teddy bear' conspicuously absent. That was nothing to worry him. A small white finger trailing from her mouth. He'd blinked, looked, and she's slurped it in, idly. His gaze had shot downward at that - I didn't see that, I didn't see that, he thought frantically. It wasn't safe to see such things of one's Princess. I didn't see that.

There had been a hint of rot around the fingernail - no, he wouldn't let himself think about it, wouldn't allow himself to think it.

His mistress was silent, but he could hear a faint crunch of bone in her mouth. He shuddered, focussed on the floor, refused to let his mind's eye see what was going on.

The floor was wet and slightly sticky. That was normal, that was something comforting to focus on. He tried to calm his thoughts, watched the movement of blood.

"You may go, Guahn." Her voice was distant and cold and so very welcome. He bowed, managed to keep it from shaking, and left her room, then stumbled against a wall.

A hand touched his shoulder. "You look pale, Guahn. Is something wrong?" He recognized the voice - Kurenah, a Habbalite Baron.

"I didn't see anything," he whispered.

"We never do." Kurenah's voice was distant. "That's hardly what's wrong."

"...I still can't..."

He could feel Kurenah's hot breath as the Habbalite leaned close. "Can't you?" His voice was mildly interested. "Ah, of course you can't. Your eyes're gone."

I didn't hear that, Guahn thought, desperately, as he raised his own hands to touch an expanse of sickly flesh where his eyes should be. I didn't, I didn't-

When his screams started coming, he could feel them, but not hear them. He felt Kurenah step away, reached out desperately for something - anything - to make contact with and felt the heat of the floor as he tumbled. "Please -"

It was comforting, the floor, something safe to look at, something safe to feel. He let himself relax into it, let himself go.

Kurenah looked down at the new patch of blood shifting under the glass of the floor, and flicked off the memory of Guahn's touch as he stepped into his Mistress's chamber.