Red. All i see is red. Like a lion smashing the inside of my skull, pulsing flashes of that color, the lion's mane like knives. They slash me and it spills, the red, and it spreads like a puddle, an ooze in my mind as I scream to my self until I spill my own red, a sea of my life, an ocean of crimson comfort as it washes against me, for I am the sand banks, and the red hits me, relaxing as it hits the lion again and again in my head, my pulsing, heated head, and the lion drowns, and the pain is gone, now everything is gone all emotion, all knowledge. Eyes roll back in my skull as I fight, between life and death as the lion awakens. I fight. I thrash. But all I see is red.