Clockwork Moon

Clockwork Moon (4)

Billions of shards of glass, dancing and spinning and reflecting rainbows of light across his face, whirled around him. He’d hit the glass with the back of his leg, what would in another dimension be called the elbow. When it hadn’t shattered spontaneously, the momentum had slammed him against the glass, flattening as it refused to yield until the last second.

Yet now he flew, still falling as the glass fell around him.

His head was more or less protected by the bowler hat, his chin the only part not covered. A miniscule shard of glass tangled in the scraggly beard he seemed to have acquired as of late. Others flew, bouncing and slicing across his belly, no deeper than papercuts but stinging all the same.

A single shard whirled by; a splatter of his blood orbiting it as centrifugal force caused it to be whisked off.

Past the storm of glass came a scene he’d been hoping to prevent. The throne room was maybe twenty metres long, if that. Much smaller than her sisters’. By the door were two guards. Under any other circumstances, they’d be standing at attention in case somepony tried to fight their way in. The possibility that that same somepony would win never entered the equation, and they now lay dead on the floor, crimson blood staining their coats and the carpet as it left their bleeding bodies.

Another pair had responded to the shots, and they lay just as dead on the floor, about halfway through the room. A pool of blood oozed inwards from the door, a sure sign that the guards there had been gunned down as well. Their killer seemed to be a Pegasus; a black coat stained a deeper shade of coal by the blood splattered upon it. Very definitely not his.

He turned now, his eyes staring in shock at Tinkertoy, who had managed to pick a window that let him launch himself almost directly at him. Behind Tinkertoy, the rain had followed him into the building and whirled around him like the glass, if slightly less reflective.

His hoof (Using his other Celestia-damned saddle to boot) held the Spinpistol, and he aimed it agonizingly slowly at Tinkertoy. Of course, without the benefit of adrenaline and whatever else was slowing his perception of time, this would all be happening within the span of a few scant seconds. But time moved like a snail across a desert, and he easily came to realization that he would not be able to aim at him quickly enough.

His eyes, seemingly the only thing that could move even close to fast enough to register anything happening, turned to Luna. By this time, she would have risen the moon, starting it on its regular journey across the sky. She would have retired to her night court, to hold control so that any problems could quickly be brought to her and solved with a benevolent hoof.

She was terrified, and blinking, but she could see his grand entrance with ease. Next to her were her personal Lunar guards, two of the few Batponies residing in Equestria. They were clutching their eyes, rolling on the floor in obvious pain. So the Pegasus had used one of the flash-bangs, as Batponies were purely nocturnal. Such a light, like that of the flash-bang, would be easily crippling. They were blind, deaf, and useless, at least for now.

His gaze turned back to the Pegasus. The pistol was still not quite pointed at him, aimed instead at the window adjacent to the one he had entered through.

Then time resumed its normal speed, and a few things now happened almost too fast for Tinkertoy’s brain to register.

He landed upon the carpet, next to the Pegasus.

The pistol fired.

A small buzzing pellet whirred past his ear, thudding into the masonry behind him.

Luna screamed.

He brought his hoof up in a punch.

He was off balance, so not as powerful.

The Assassin staggered backwards.

And then nopony moved, all of them giving each other time to think.

Tinkertoy was back at a disadvantage, his Sabre still sheathed by his side, which would take at least a second or two to pull out. Another second would be necessary to cover the distance he had put between him and the Assassin.

Luna was still shocked by the Assassin in general, and by this clockwork stallion’s entrance. She did not move from her seat, and the thought of doing so never crossed her mind.

The Assassin had a choice. He couldn’t remember how many bullets this pistol had, nor how many he had fired. Five? Six? Seven? He could have two shots left, one shot, or none at all. This stallion was blocking a clear shot and would likely stop him. He could shoot him. Easily. But that might be his last bullet. So, he opted for the target behind him, hoping at least to complete his assignment.

The pistol twitched left, and fire flew from the barrel, directly at Luna.

The shot went wild, but followed its deadly trajectory nonetheless. It curved through the smoke of his earlier shots, the latest sending a curl of it’s own. It spun lazily past Tinkertoy, missing his metal clad hoof by centimeters. It slammed with a sickening wet thud directly into Luna’s left flank, burrowing through flesh, muscle, and stopping just before it hit bone. He had hit her, and that was all he needed.

Than Tinkertoy slammed into him, knocking him backwards and horizontal. This would’ve been enough, but he spread his wings and aerodynamically flipped back onto his hooves.

Tinkertoy hadn’t realized the shot had impacted. Had hit Luna. All he knew was that this Pegasus was still standing. Still breathing.

He drew his Sabre, the reddish-orange blade glinting in a flash of lightning outside. The Pegasus wheeled, and pulled a Rapier from one of his earlier victims. He spun back around, and their blades clacked against each other, already parrying a blow.

“En garde.” Tinkertoy felt his memories of ancient Prance returning, and a bit of the language as well. On guard.

“Au revoir.” Goodbye. And the duel began, with the Assassin pushing against Tinkertoy’s blade, his hilt swinging around to use it as a lever with which he could simply club him. Not a gentecolt’s duel, then. The hilt of the rapier swung past his head, Tinkertoy just managing to duck under it.

He brought the curve of the leg holding the blade up, slamming it into the Assassin’s chin. He lurched backwards, moving his stomach out of the way of a slice intended to gut him. He balanced on his instep, turning as he spun the hilt of the Sabre in his hand so that the blade now followed the length of his leg. A blocking blow.

The Assassin was unprepared for this, and had to use his leg for support against the back of the blade, his head leaning over it from the sheer force of the blow. They struggled against each other, the impact having knocked chips out of the seamless blades and locking them in place against each other. It was now a battle to see who could push harder, to break their opponents grip on their blade.

Tinkertoy, the Earth Pony, had natural strength on his side, but it was slightly weighed out by his natural thinness. He was, statistically, below average as far as Earth Pony strength went.

The Assassin, a Pegasus, was agile and thuggish, having spent most of his life training for this exact purpose. All in all, they were evenly matched. Strength would not win this match.

Thinking quickly, Tinkertoy swung his other hoof forward in a left hook over their blades, clubbing the Pegasus and knocking him away from where their blades had met. He scattered onto the floor, the Rapier clattering away from him. Before Tinkertoy could strike again, however, he pulled a canister from his belt.

A sound not unlike a cannon full of baking powder hit Tinkertoy like a sledgehammer to the forehead, coupled with near-instant blindness. Presumably the Assassin had been protected by his mask and goggles, but Tinkertoy was left with the glowing afterimage of his mask contorting in what was unmistakably a smile, even under that.

As his senses slowly returned, he was knocked to the floor, with the Assassin landing on top of him. He made a movement to knock him off, but the barrel of a pistol was forced under his chin.

“Ah ah ah… No sudden moves. You can hear me, I assume?” Tinkertoy nodded. “Good. Any last words, Mister Smith? Something pithy?” He shook his head. In Tinkertoy's ears, the ringing ceased. “Than allow me to interject one of mine. I have, after all, wanted to say this, but the perfect situation has only just dropped into my hooves.”

He chuckled, and cocked the pistol. “Mr. Smith? Dodge this.”

CLICK.

He looked down at the pistol, the now obviously empty cartridge mocking him. Tinkertoy smiled. “Done.” It was about that moment that the Assassin realized what he had landed on.

Tinkertoy extended his hoof, the spring-boots and the clockwork adding much more power than conventionally possible, which managed to launch the Assassin across the room. He didn’t even try to use his wings. He arched a good four meters through the air, his journey stopping with a splintering of wood as he slammed into a desk.

The Assassin was dazed, as would anypony who had slammed into a desk at that velocity. Luckily, Pegasi were durable, so he wasn’t dead. He tried to clamber out of the wreckage, to roll out of the pile of splintered wood, but he was stopped by Tinkertoy slamming onto his chest.

Tinkertoy kept most of his weight off him, for leverage.

“Stop struggling. With all this metal, I easily weigh…ohhh… four hundred pounds? Something like that. More than enough to pulverize your spine, crush your ribcage. Easily, like a twig.”

He kept squirming, and Tinkertoy planted his metal-clad clockwork leg on his underbelly for emphasis. Behind him, Luna was trying to climb off her throne, likely to try and help him. Tinkertoy heard a clink, and looked down with just enough time left over to close his eyes.

He was spared the worst of the bright flash, but the concussion still made his ears ring. His eyes snapped open, and he found himself on the floor, the sudden light stinging his eyes and the veins in his eyes burned into his vision as afterimages. The Assassin had gotten out from under him, and he whirled around to find he hadn’t gotten far. A new squad of guards had arrived, and one held his sabre to the masked Assassin’s throat. It was over.

Luna hadn’t understood the significance of the flashbang, and had looked directly at it. Two in quick succession, no wonder a thin stream of red was trickling from her ears. She could likely still hear, but it would be very badly muffled. Her legs gave out, and Tinkertoy caught her, holding her in his hooves.

“Luna…Luna…! Can you hear me? Princess?” His own voice was distorted, unprotected and ringing. Still, her ears twitched. She had heard him. She tried to respond, but her voice cracked. She tried again, her voice wavering but understandable.

“…Who…What…What hap…happened?”

“An Assassin, madam. He’s been captured, but you’ve been shot. By a device of my own creation, sadly. We have both had our hearing impaired, and your vision. I’m here to help.”

“He…Help? Thine voice…It rings…But thou have a familiar tone…We know thou.” Tinkertoy was astonished. She remembered him. So she had actually been there, in his dream.

“Indeed, Luna. You visited my dream last night. You helped me when I relived the accident. You helped put Jeremy to rest. You helped… put me to rest.” The realization washed over him, the guilt from the accident gone. Mostly, as it was still there, but it no longer impeded his decisions, no longer controlled his every movement.

The ringing had begun to decrease for Tinkertoy, and his hearing was slowly becoming unimpaired. Luna was still shaking, her blinded eyes darting about for a look at him. She seemed to be significantly worse off, unused to lots of lights flooding the retinas. It had damaged her eyes, and they had “shut down for repairs” as it were. A thin corona of magic surrounded her horn, and Luna turned to look almost directly at him.

“We…are pleased that we could help…at least one pony with thy…inner demons before we met thine end…” The ringing stopped fully, just as Tinkertoy realized the meaning behind the words. He looked down, and realized that his hooves were now coated in her bright, sparkling red blood. It stained her beautiful blue fur with horrid streaks of crimson, and soaked into his brown fur and the carpet below.

“NO! Luna, stay with me, Luna! I just saved your life, I won’t have you die on me now!”

“Thy name, Stallion. What is thy name, and the name of our savior? We wish –cough- to know who wouldst risk thy life and limb for ours.”

“T…Tinkertoy, madam. Tinkertoy Smith. I fix things.” His eyes moved to the wound, narrowing at the vibrant red. “And I’m going to fix you, Princess Luna.”

He set her down on the steps of her throne, and rolled her over as gently as possible. Luna looked up at him, tears smearing her makeup. “Dost thou truly believe thou can heal our wounds?”

“My good Luna, I can fix any machine, no matter how complicated, and no matter how alien. Surely a ponies’ internals can’t be much different?” He had no tools, no scalpel, no bandages, not even any medicinal magic. He spied one of the Assassin’s fallen knives, and picked it off the floor. He had his scalpel. He hoped it was clean, and that the Assassin had not poisoned them.

He grabbed his saber from his toolbelt, and used it to cut down a nearby hanging tapestry, then slice and tear it into bandages with strength he didn’t know he’d possessed before.

Nearby, one of the Batponies had recovered slightly from the first flashbang. Ironically, it was the one wearing the eyepatch. His eye hadn’t actually been damaged, merely covered by the patch. He had switched the patch to his other eye, revealing the other one. He used it to stumble about more effectively. Tinkertoy could use the help. “Well, don’t just stand there, you fool! Hold this bandage in place, and keep bloody pressure on it!”

Below him, Luna had begun to shake violently, her hind hooves becoming slowly obscured by an advancing wave of grey. Her silver leggings weren’t a part of her, and therefore were the only things to hold their hue as her fur seemed to change colour around them. It spread slowly, advancing from her hooves upward. The bullet wound seemed to have a small ring of grey dyed by the blood around it, seeming to be the source. A grainy liquid wove a thin trail through the blood pooled around it.

Luna pulled her hind leg up to her eyes, “seeing” it with her magic. She grimaced, obviously not satisfied with the results. She looked at Tinkertoy, and he suddenly felt a presence in his mind. Not wholly there, but merely an extension of a much larger mind. He started as he realized it was Luna, and that she seemed… hesitant.

He nodded, as if to say “Go ahead,” and the presence migrated behind his eyes. As he looked at Luna, she moved her hooves to see them twitch, and how they’d been changed. As she saw the state she was in, she began to make a sort of muted scream, like somepony trying to do so around a mouthful of their own hoof. She regained her composure slightly to ask a question. “What…What sorcery was contained within that bullet?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to have to get it out.” She nodded, and Tinkertoy was suddenly taken by surprise as a Zebra leaned over his shoulder. Literally, as he his face was suddenly right next to Tinkertoy’s’. The large equine began to mutter to himself.

“A spreading grey; a shortness of breath. The culprit seems to be monochromatic death!” He began to dig through his saddlebags, pulling out herbs and fruit.

Tinkertoy looked behind him.

Then he looked up.

Right into the face of a very angry Princess Celestia.

“Prin-Princess?”

“You’d damn well better know what you’re doing, Colt. I was just interrupted from a very important dinner with the Zebrica ambassador to be told that my little sister had been shot. I AM NOT IN THE MOOD. If she dies, you will be next, clockwork colt.”

Stunned, Tinkertoy could only stutter. He was interrupted and brought back to his senses by Luna. The wave of grey had passed her flank, overtaking her crescent moon cutie mark and changing it into a uniform grey. It now obscured a quarter of her body. “It tingles, Tinkertoy. Like we had sat on it and stood too quickly.”

He held her front hoof, the contact comforting her. “Luna, don’t worry. Just keep fighting it, if you can. You will live to see your sister’s sun rise and set tomorrow, and many more past then.” Her eyes implored him, staring deep into his soul. For a second, this wasn’t Princess Luna, mistress of the night, speaking to him. It was just a terrified little filly. “Thou…Thou Promise?”

Visions of a certain orange Pegasus flashed in his mind, visions of a very similar conversation.

“I promise.”

He turned to the Zebra, who had fished out a jar that seemed to be filled with liquid rainbows dancing and swirling, but never mixing. “Can you give her something for the pain? This is going to hurt, no matter how I do it.” He nodded, pulling a large leaf from another pocket.

“This herb shall ease her pain, and give me time to explain. The antidote is ready, but you must remove the source and hold her steady.” He placed it inside her mouth, but stopped her before she could close her teeth on it. “Bite down hard, but do not swallow. ‘Else it shall make your stomach hollow.” Luna crunched down on the green leaf, holding it in her teeth as it drained down her throat. She spat it out when the leaf had relinquished the fluid, while Tinkertoy leaned closer to the wound.

It was a small hole, barely large enough for the bullet. A testament to the slug’s velocity. A centimeter wide, and leaking blood, as well as whatever poison the bullet had been coated in. He watched as a small tendril of grey curled across the pool of blood on the floor, tainting it with a deadly monochrome, uniform grey. Similarly, the grey had spread, almost covering half her body.

He gritted his teeth, and held the knife to the wound. He mentally asked himself how badly he wanted to do this, whether it would help or merely damn them both further. He made his decision, and pushed the knife into the wound, cutting a thin line nine centimeters long. Luna gasped. Either the herb had not had enough time to take full effect, or it just wasn’t enough to dull pain that bad.

Blood oozed out of the new cut, and Tinkertoy used his makeshift bandages to soak it up. He pushed the cut open further, strings of blood and various fluids stretching across the small expanse. He cut again, this time through muscle. He made a clean cut following a seam, minimizing damage. He pushed it aside, and somepony handed him clamps to hold it in place. He pushed deeper, and found the slug nestled inside a mass of tissue.

This far in, it had slowed, and flattened against the solid flesh. He wedged the knife under it, eliciting another gasp from Luna. He wormed it out as carefully as possible, and gently pulled it clear from her flank. He removed the clamps, flattening the flesh as close as he could to its natural state so it would heal more efficiently. He pulled the wound shut, and took an offered suture and thread.

Gently threading it through the skin and pulling the wound firmly shut, he stitched Luna’s internals back into place. A gentle shimmer of magic surrounded it, healing the cells on a microscopic level and cleaning the wound as well as possible. Tinkertoy turned around to find a familiar white Unicorn concentrating on the wound.

“Oh…Hey. Small world, huh?” Tinkertoy only nodded, and turned to the Zebra. He held the bullet in a makeshift glove torn from the tapestry. Behind him, the Unicorn finished cleaning the wound, and began to surround her belly with gauze to protect it. The Zebra shook the jar of liquid rainbows one last time.

“Liquid Rainbows are not to be drunk. This cure will involve some luck.” He opened it, and tipped the contents into Luna’s mouth. She coughed, gagging slightly on the spicy chemical, and swallowed it. The Zebra was right. Liquid rainbows could be downright toxic to anypony untrained or weak. He hoped an Alicorn could handle it.

As the grey reached Luna’s’ eyes, she hiccuped, and it slowed before stopping completely. The tips of her ears glowed in a multicoloured spreading array that began to wash across her body, the rainbows spreading almost exactly like the grey had, but quicker. It met the grey; almost painting over it as it slowed a small bit, then began to move even faster.

A layer of rainbows soon covered all of Luna’s body, morphing and swirling in a way that made the eyes hurt. Slowly, they settled down, mixing back into her natural night blue-coloured coat. It would have been perfect, were it not for the drying spots of crimson still coating her fur. The Zebra spoke first.

“The worst is gone but the grey remains. Finish the leaf, and remove what you retain.” Luna weakly took the leaf, and swallowed it whole.

“Give her some room, the Alicorn needs it. No nice way to put it, she’s going to vomit.” They all took a step back as Luna made a sort of “Hurk” sound and emptied her stomach onto the steps. She was spent, and laid her head down on a pillow Tinkertoy had placed. The disgusting liquid, expelled from her stomach, was mostly grey with bits of leaf and the occasional swirl of a leftover bit of rainbow.

Tinkertoy stepped back towards her, and wiped her mouth with a spare rag he had in his toolbelt. She coughed weakly, and looked at him. She spoke softly, completely exhausted.

“Thank you… Knight Tinkertoy…”

“Knight?” He was slightly taken aback by this. He sat down on the steps next to her. His boots wouldn’t allow him to sit normally, so he sat on the back of his haunches.

“In shining –cough- Clockwork…” Luna slumped downward onto his lap, gently rolling onto her side and looking up at Tinkertoy with her still nearly blind eyes. Celestia stepped closer. “How is she?” The medic answered.

“Well, she looks stable. Might get a secondary infection, as…” He trailed off, realizing that she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at Tinkertoy, with anger in her eyes. He sighed.

“She’ll live. Eyes should be better soon, as long as she doesn’t get exposed to another flash. Bullet wound isn’t as sterile as I’d like, but she’ll live with bed rest and magic in a couple days.”

“Yes. About those, care to explain?”

“…You already know, don’t you?”

“Yes, but she doesn’t. She needs to hear this.”

“Fine. They’re my inventions. I didn’t mean for them to be used on her, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy making them. They were an anonymous commission, I only discovered their purpose shortly before arriving here to stop it.” Luna looked up at him, forgiveness almost oozing from her eyes.

“Thy ends justify the –cough- means…” Tinkertoy looked down at her, and Celestia leaned in close. He caught the slightest flash of a Celestia that wasn’t the tyrannical ruler of the most peaceful country on the planet, wasn’t a princess, wasn’t an Alicorn. Just a big sister caring for her sibling. “Glad you could see it like that too, Lulu.” She uttered in a whisper.

A shout sounded from the other end of the throne room. The unicorn who had been keeping the blade at the Assassin’s throat gave a strangled cry, then slumped to the floor with a knife sticking from his back. The Assassin ducked past a crossbow bolt loosed at him, and spread his wings. He was out the broken window in seconds. Tinkertoy’s eyes darted down to Luna, who was staring at the window in sheer shock again.

Gently, he set her down as she slipped into full unconsciousness, and then with a few bounces followed him out the shattered window. Celestia nodded, and a small army of medics, nurses, doctors, surgeons and other assorted medical personnel descended on Luna, quickly bundling her up and onto a gurney.

If the rain had been pouring before, it was still somehow worse now. Meteorologically, this shouldn’t have been possible. Canterlot was at a high altitude, and there were no pollutants to worsen the rain’s effects. And yet Tinkertoy doubted, as he scanned the rooftops nearby for the Assassin, that it was in fact rain at all. It felt more like a million dragons had all decided to vomit on Canterlot at the same time. It smelled remarkably better than that, however.

The Pegasus had not expected the rain either, and Tinkertoy spotted him back on the rooftop behind him. He had managed to turn and land on the roof of the same building he had left just before his wings became soaked beyond any hope of aviation, and now stood on the front, seemingly waiting for something.

With another quick spring, he landed a scant five metres behind him. The Assassin turned, and shouted in a voice barely audible over the rain, “You just don’t know when to QUIT, do you? I’ve lost and Luna lives! Leave m…” The wind picked up for a short second, “…ucking alone!” He finished. Beyond the wind, the unmistakable thrum of Airship propellers picked up in volume. The clouds stubbornly blocked their source, adamant in that it would be a bloody good storm.

Tinkertoy opened his mouth, but the wind snatched the words out of his mouth the first time. He shielded his muzzle with a metal-clad hoof, and shouted again. “You killed too many for that! And even if you hadn’t, you still tried your damndest to kill Luna! I would chase you to the ends of the planet for that alone!” His mane began to prickle just the slightest bit…

“You’re bucking obsessed! You…” The Pegasus trailed off, his eyes unfocusing for just a second. He looked back to Tinkertoy, pure fear in his eyes now. “You bloody madpony! You’ll kill us both, coming up here now, covered in metal!”

Oh, right. This was a thunderstorm.

The prickling upgraded to full-on tingling, the unmistakable feeling of static electricity crawling up his spine. The smell of ozone invaded his nostrils, and his gaze drifted to the hoof that held his sword. Was bronze conductive? Had to be. Copper and tin were both conductive; no reason bronze wouldn’t be…

The thrum of the propellers became all the more obvious, and the source finally revealed itself. It pushed through the clouds, the heat radiating off it creating a buffer of sorts around its massive length. The faintest hint of sunlight from a gap far above shimmered across it, the green and yellow colouration brightening in direct light.

The Pegasus looked towards it, and grinned triumphantly. On the side of the gondola, a hatch flipped open, and a rope ladder unfurled. It fell about ten metres short, and faint cursing could be heard from above as the engines kicked up an octave. The airship was moving, constantly moving above them to catch him with a lucky pass.

Tinkertoy stared, but a beep from his mechanical saddle brought his attention to it. He looked over his shoulder in time, just to catch the Tesla coil at the top glowing with blue electricity, before a flash blinded him. The sheer force of the impact slammed him into the wet rooftop. A dislodged chunk of ceramic slid off to its doom, to the castle grounds far below.

Sparks and pain shot across his field of view. Had he… had he actually just been hit by… lightning? And survived? He stood back up, his leg muscles screaming at him for their torture. His right hoof stung in particular. He held it up. He was right-hoofed, but it didn’t come up often, except in cases like now when he was holding a sword. It seemed to have been hit by a stray bolt, and the blade had blackened and charred. Further down, his metal hand had slagged around it, the thin layer of insulation somehow having spared him from the electricity and the flash-scorched metal.

That hoof was useless until he could remove the hand then. His other had been left unmolested, and he watched a blue light on the palm arc occasionally to the fingers of the hand, spare electricity from the bolt leaping across the space between his fingers. A spare spark triggered a connection, and the hand twitched. All the fingers stuck out wildly, before coming back in and forming a claw.

He looked back up. The lightning had obviously startled whoever was flying the Airship, and it had missed its first pass. It was now coming around for another, trying to recover the failed Assassin. He looked back at the hand.

That little blue light was conductive, and it looked like it sunk inward. A button. A flash of memory from the night before reformed itself, and he remembered why he had modified the saddle.

The Pegasus turned; making sure Tinkertoy didn’t do anything stupid like fight back.

Tinkertoy held his hoof up and directly at the Pegasus, a deranged grin creeping across his face. “Smile.”

And then he pressed the button.

Instantly, his vision blurred, and the kickback forced his hoof upwards and back. He was blinded for the umpteenth time today, and the last thing he saw before he felt the roof collapse under him was that damn green Airship…

The roof gave, the timbers burned and the tiling vaporized.

Tinkertoy fell, and the feeling was unsettling.

Around him, sparks and ashes and chunks of ceramic whirled.

A piece of wood that had been holding up the roof curled past.

There was a final blur of colour, red blood and dark blue carpeting and white tile before-

Then his vision went black.