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Description
    The fortune-teller breathed in, submerged in his pool of toxins. His words twisted through the thick clouds, entrancing his audience of one in a fear, immobilizing them, holding every breath at bay…

    There was the faint sound of rain, rapping quietly at the window, as the boy attempted sleep. He had been playing at this for hours, just a little rest before the sunrise would be enough to equip him for the next day. Which would be, so far, the most terrifying day of his life.
    A crowd, as silent as the core of the night, watched as the curtains were drawn back. Here it was, his chance at eternal glory! Or so it may have seemed to the boy, who searched eagerly through the audience for a sign of the most important member. Without seeing them before the music started, nervous feet began their dance, a perfect vision of careful precision.
    The world began unfolding around him in a chaotic destruction, the theatre fell apart, and with it, his dreams.
    He had let himself doze off.
    Morning light streamed through an open window (as he could never sleep with it shut), and his eyes struggled to adjust to the lighting that the lids on his eyes had been shielding from him for at least an hour now.

    Though he was behind the stage, the audience must have heard his pounding heart, like a drum, wishing to break free and escape his fate. His head pounded with the same fervour as his heart…Before he realized what was happening, he ran. Mindlessly, with no destination apart from away. Away from the theatre, and away from the stage.
    His feet took him to an unknown place. There was something calm about it, away from the city and within the trees. A canopy of leaves hung over his head, and his feet proceeded carefully through the vegetation…
    but not carefully enough.
    When his foot slipped into the hole, there was no escape. Though he desperately tried to cling to the Earth around the pit, his hands missed the last grip of hope, and he was completely certain then, that he had reached his end.
    He tumbled, painfully, down a twisting soil tunnel, knowing only things worse than his nightmares could greet him at the bottom. If only he had stayed. If only he had been brave….

    Finally there was an end. The tumbling stopped with a not-too-pleasant smack on the head as it met the ground…and…grass? His eyes searched for a light that was not there to greet him, his mind raced…There was no way of knowing where he was. Nor his fate. Perhaps the rodents would find him and pick him to pieces before he starved to death. Or maybe it would rain, and he would drown before the rodents had a chance. Of course, even now, he was having severe difficulty breathing. The air was thick…but not in the way it is when it is humid, or when there is no air. It was thick with something else, with smoke.
    Afraid to stand, for the ceiling could not be far above him, the boy, despite all fear, forced his muscles, now aching from the fall, to crawl forward. The strangest thing, he then saw, a faint light, changing in colour, coming from what appeared to be a glass container…within it, was smoke. Billowing beautifully in it's neon lights, it was the most tempting thing the boy had ever seen before. Tempting in what way? He could not know, all he knew is that he desired to be closer.
    He was as close as he possibly could be when he noticed the cord attached to the top of the oddly shaped glass, and it trailed away from the smoke filled jar and into the shadows behind it. The boy, now satisfied that he was closer, touched the glass.
    "Oh, dear." A voice, nay, whisper, seemed to slither from the shadows into the boy's ears. He shuddered. "Well, well, who are you?" The whisper became a louder voice, which held desperately to it's h in every word the letter appeared in.
    The boy's thoughts would not form an answer, for he could hardly recall who he was. Or why he was. Or if he even was anything at all.
    "No matter, who you are." The voice seemed to laugh, or it might have been only breathing. A figure, sitting on it's knees, leaned forward from the shadows, and through the faint neon lights the boy could make out hardly even a face. A top hat was placed crookedly on top of what seemed in some colours of lighting, blonde, and pulled behind the head with perhaps, a ribbon. Blue, or maybe dark green, or…red…eyes peered curiously into the eyes that were desperately trying to envision what this person looked like, a faint smile played at the corners of the strangely sensual lips, pursed to a hardly noticeable point.
    "Drink this." The man insisted, producing from some unseen place a small jar. Attached to which was a small, tattered tag reading…well, from what the boy could make out it must have said, 'drink me.'
    Cautiously the boy uncapped the jar and stared inside. There, inside the jar, was nothing but smoke. Yet, this man seemed not the type to disappoint, the boy put his lips to the rim, and expecting nothing, attempted to drink.
    The beauty of the stranger was the last thing that made any sense, as the world, or whatever he was in, went black.

Description
    The fortune-teller breathed in, submerged in his pool of toxins. His words twisted through the thick clouds, entrancing his audience of one in a fear, immobilizing them, holding every breath at bay…

    There was the faint sound of rain, rapping quietly at the window, as the boy attempted sleep. He had been playing at this for hours, just a little rest before the sunrise would be enough to equip him for the next day. Which would be, so far, the most terrifying day of his life.
    A crowd, as silent as the core of the night, watched as the curtains were drawn back. Here it was, his chance at eternal glory! Or so it may have seemed to the boy, who searched eagerly through the audience for a sign of the most important member. Without seeing them before the music started, nervous feet began their dance, a perfect vision of careful precision.
    The world began unfolding around him in a chaotic destruction, the theatre fell apart, and with it, his dreams.
    He had let himself doze off.
    Morning light streamed through an open window (as he could never sleep with it shut), and his eyes struggled to adjust to the lighting that the lids on his eyes had been shielding from him for at least an hour now.

    Though he was behind the stage, the audience must have heard his pounding heart, like a drum, wishing to break free and escape his fate. His head pounded with the same fervour as his heart…Before he realized what was happening, he ran. Mindlessly, with no destination apart from away. Away from the theatre, and away from the stage.
    His feet took him to an unknown place. There was something calm about it, away from the city and within the trees. A canopy of leaves hung over his head, and his feet proceeded carefully through the vegetation…
    but not carefully enough.
    When his foot slipped into the hole, there was no escape. Though he desperately tried to cling to the Earth around the pit, his hands missed the last grip of hope, and he was completely certain then, that he had reached his end.
    He tumbled, painfully, down a twisting soil tunnel, knowing only things worse than his nightmares could greet him at the bottom. If only he had stayed. If only he had been brave….

    Finally there was an end. The tumbling stopped with a not-too-pleasant smack on the head as it met the ground…and…grass? His eyes searched for a light that was not there to greet him, his mind raced…There was no way of knowing where he was. Nor his fate. Perhaps the rodents would find him and pick him to pieces before he starved to death. Or maybe it would rain, and he would drown before the rodents had a chance. Of course, even now, he was having severe difficulty breathing. The air was thick…but not in the way it is when it is humid, or when there is no air. It was thick with something else, with smoke.
    Afraid to stand, for the ceiling could not be far above him, the boy, despite all fear, forced his muscles, now aching from the fall, to crawl forward. The strangest thing, he then saw, a faint light, changing in colour, coming from what appeared to be a glass container…within it, was smoke. Billowing beautifully in it's neon lights, it was the most tempting thing the boy had ever seen before. Tempting in what way? He could not know, all he knew is that he desired to be closer.
    He was as close as he possibly could be when he noticed the cord attached to the top of the oddly shaped glass, and it trailed away from the smoke filled jar and into the shadows behind it. The boy, now satisfied that he was closer, touched the glass.
    "Oh, dear." A voice, nay, whisper, seemed to slither from the shadows into the boy's ears. He shuddered. "Well, well, who are you?" The whisper became a louder voice, which held desperately to it's h in every word the letter appeared in.
    The boy's thoughts would not form an answer, for he could hardly recall who he was. Or why he was. Or if he even was anything at all.
    "No matter, who you are." The voice seemed to laugh, or it might have been only breathing. A figure, sitting on it's knees, leaned forward from the shadows, and through the faint neon lights the boy could make out hardly even a face. A top hat was placed crookedly on top of what seemed in some colours of lighting, blonde, and pulled behind the head with perhaps, a ribbon. Blue, or maybe dark green, or…red…eyes peered curiously into the eyes that were desperately trying to envision what this person looked like, a faint smile played at the corners of the strangely sensual lips, pursed to a hardly noticeable point.
    "Drink this." The man insisted, producing from some unseen place a small jar. Attached to which was a small, tattered tag reading…well, from what the boy could make out it must have said, 'drink me.'
    Cautiously the boy uncapped the jar and stared inside. There, inside the jar, was nothing but smoke. Yet, this man seemed not the type to disappoint, the boy put his lips to the rim, and expecting nothing, attempted to drink.
    The beauty of the stranger was the last thing that made any sense, as the world, or whatever he was in, went black.