The mind is a fragile thing. The images it produces from the memories stored deep within it can be easily corrupted or rearranged to provide "holes" that are unexplainable. "Holes" within your logic, your ways of thinking, the conclusions you draw, the things you remember. All these can easily be changed through simple things. Through very simple actions.
For, as you see, memories change and deteriorate on their own, if enough time is given without the process of recalling their images. The "image" in this example being any kind of event, smell, taste or feeling your memories stands for.
The process of the deterioration moves on its own. But it can quickly be accelerated by the most basic things. One of the simplest methods is to force someone to recall one of their memories, by reminding them of play they saw many years ago, while another one had been brought to their attention in a subtle enough manner, merely a week ago.
Things like this, small manipulations of the human mind, could easily grow into a potential psychological weapon. A small trigger is all that is needed to completely destroy the psyche from the inside. One word is enough to rearrange the memories of the past and chance the attitude of the present. Images of the mind will be implanted and infected.
Do it well enough, and the mind shall shatter.
A new world shall be created.
The heavy rain that had been knocking on the windows of the old, wooden house did not intend to let off for even a single moment, making the dark and moody atmosphere on the inside only grow. One lone individual, wrapped in dirty clothes and a ripped apart blanket, was cowering in the darkest corner of the entrance hall of this old house.
The only light source in this ever blinding darkness was the flickering fire on top of a candle, which had been placed on a small table next to the broken down staircase next to the corner the person was in.
The shine of the fire barely reached the cowering being, and every time a slight breeze actually enabled the light to touch its legs, which were looking out of the blanket, it quickly rolled over to avoid any contact with the heating element.
Every so often the young person in the corner decided to open its bright blue eyes, which cut through the darkness like the strong fire of a well-lit lantern, capable of overlooking the entire hall, in case any other being decided to announce its presence.
Nothing like that happened luckily and the being was able to slowly drift into the sleep it had deserved after what it had lived through.
But yet, every time the young individual closed its eyes, horrible images flashed in front of it.
A bloody war. Thousands of living creatures, running at one another, weapons striking, hitting, breaking, penetrating, ripping, shredding and killing.
A woman, eyes as cold as the darkest winter night.
A man, eyes as burning as the hottest summer sun.
A girl, fighting a dragon who is towering over her. A blade, her hands holding onto it as best as she can.
Fire and Flames burning the surroundings to ground. Screams ringing within his skull, breaking it apart from the inside. Pain crawling throughout his entire body, slowly infected every part of his very being.
A heart, broken in two, as the world collapses around him.
A grin, accompanied by a riddle.
Silence.