He is falling, falling endlessly with the scorching air whistling in his ears. All he can see is red so intense it burns his very eyes. Even as he falls his anger and his hatred burn him like flames, all-encompassing, all-consuming. His wounds burn him too, and now he is falling no longer, but the red surrounds him and all he knows is pain. For a moment he screams with tortured lungs, and then the merciful darkness takes him to itself.

He dreams of a boy with her face pulling him from the pit, but when he wakes he does not remember.