A shrill whine echoed through the room.
Sitting alone he let go, Obscured by bluish hues.

His perceptions been altered. How can he live in this tomb as regrets and sins of the father begin to bloom?

"Who are you?","Why are you here?"
His Reflections argue and fight in the mirror.

The echo in the room fades but begins a fast pace and starts to hiss.
And as he laid down he prayed to see the fan blades and watch them spin.

He watched them spin...