A/N: Almost at the end of this little series.
Also, yay, my 100th fic on this site. Not that it matters, right?
Toluene
It was a maze, Gray knew that. It gave off a strange feeling in which he didn't quite know if he was awake or asleep.
Everything had an ethereal and dream-like quality.
The walls were made of polished stone, corners crisp and cutting yet, that was mitigated by what felt like a mist that softened everything.
There was light coming from somewhere – the room was comprised of four walls that gave off a bad feeling, there were no windows inside. Except that one set of large windows appeared all of a sudden in the wall in front of Gray.
There was magic in the building, he could feel it, and it was being used. But it was also caged?
Gray shook his head and stepped back until his back was pressing against the wall. It couldn't be true, such a place didn't exist. Shouldn't exist anymore. The stories about places like this were from the old times, the times of the war.
But that time was over long ago, wasn't it?
A door appeared beside him and he got out of the room, his breath starting to come faster, the heartbeat starting a frantic gallop, sweat sliding down his temple.
Horrific things happened in this place.
Gray looked down at the floor.
Smudges of something dark brown stained the floor – and he did wonder about its provenience. Now the dream-like quality didn't fuzz everything up, on the contrary, it gave a sharp focus on it.
The sight made Gray queasy.
The thing was, Gray was no coward, he'd endured his fair share of awful things. But here… the place, the lighting, the very air – everything felt heavy on his skin, the air almost too thick to breathe – and the discomfort everything gave off… Gray didn't think he could take it.
And to think that there were people who did this for a living!
Suddenly, the room darkened. It was as if a thick curtain had fallen over everything and when it lifted the light came from sconces on the walls. Said walls were now coated in a burgundy red colour, tall columns raising towards the ceiling. And the floor had shifted completely. The previously ashy grey colour was now a checkered tile.
Mists started to cover the floor, the edges starting to be engulfed in the white mist – and Gray noticed that he had one foot on a white square and the other on a black one.
The weirdest feeling swept through him.
And then, rain started falling. Each droplet burning and effacing. The once precise and sharp edges on the white and black board started blurring, a muddled grey emerging and sticking underfoot.
It was yes and no. Black and White. Past and Future.
Alas, if the floor showed something it was that the past was a blur – with anything to be taken from it, as it was too difficult to see – and that the future was inexistent – as it was no longer defined.
Gray knew that this couldn't be like this. No, there had to be an answer for him to take away from this… this dream of his. There must be a solution somewhere.
And Gray was going to find it!
He started running towards the wall that had had a door before the room became engulfed in mists.