His hands felt different, pale and cold like they were dipped in freezing water which was didn't strike him as normal though strangely he wasn't sure why. His hair obscured the unsettled expression on his face [i]'[color=DBDBDB]I..I was..I..[/color]'[/i] smoke and fire, the blood pooling around him. Shards of broken glass, the rough taste of liquor and then nothing "[color=DBDBDB]No![/color]" he shouted suddenly remembering the feeling of the smoke choking his lungs, his hand grasped his throat "[color=DBDBDB]No, bloody god no this isn't real.[/color]" was this just a dream? Was he dead or in some kind of afterlife?

"[color=DBDBDB]It must be the bourbon...[/color]" he pinched himself but all he felt was pain, he did not wake up it was not a dream "[color=DBDBDB]I..I can't remember anything but the fire, the god damned smoke.[/color]" he sobbed, hands in face shaking fiercely "[color=DBDBDB]I must be finally losing my mind..I must be.[/color]" he whispered to himself.

The cold pale reflection of his eyes regarded others with a mix of fear and an unsettling wildness, his head pounded as though he awoke with a piercing headache from drink. He didn't know where he was or anyone around him, did they know anything? No, they looked as perplexed as he himself was.