Allow your fearful fervor to raise, child!
"What is this?" Shadow asked himself after heaving a small pool of blackness at his feet, leaving an unpleasant, motor oil taste in his mouth. The dark one's panic had awakened as he had absolutely no idea what was going on, only that the entire world was going to hell in an instant.
As he looked up, the hedgehog couldn't help but notice that England's muggy, gray and partially illuminated nighttime sky began to inch closer and closer to the hedgehog's face. He could do nothing but run, and as Shadow ran far from the bar and down the street, everything went black; all the soldiers, all the lights, all the cracks and crevices in the city bled the same black liquid that flowed from his mouth.
These hallucinations were mild at first, but they quickly became much more horrific as the hedgehog picked up speed. The shadows he cast on the nearby walls turned into splatters of black twitching sporadically; the shadows simply stared at Shadow.
Stare not into the eyes of madness lest you become mad yourself.
Even the windows had become sinister, for when he peered into them, into the eyes of each building, nightmarish silhouettes could be seen motioning either towards the hedgehog or towards some possible innocent being unseen behind the buildings' walls.
But all the unpleasant sights surrounding the panicking hedgehog would have been less terrifying if only there were no sound. At first there was only the sound of his own footsteps; however as the hallucinations began to take hold, the clacking of his skates like wooden clogs on the paved road had silenced. For a moment there was only silence, silence and mild hallucinations, but then the subtle voices came and soon the maniacal cackling of the specters in, on and behind the walls followed.
It was almost as if something were chasing him; the paranoia had settled in as it mingled with Shadow's panic and fear.
Shadow ran down the street, and though he kept his eyes on the road ahead and looked away from the windows, the hallucinations would not cease. Shadow came to a narrow crossroad in the city intended for Pedestrians, and what he saw was almost unexplainable; the shadows cast by Shadow's shadow due to the lampposts' luminescence detached themselves from the walls and slowly, in a sinister way began moving toward the drugged and dreary dark one, brandishing unseen objects formed from the absence of light.
Let it all run black, dear child, for the sun has set and the night has risen.
The threat was all too real for the drugged hedgehog, his heart had begun to pound faster and faster as he didn't know what to do; surrounded by monsters, bleeding black fluid from his insides, the panic faded and the fear set in.
You must relax.
Shadow couldn't relax, his adrenal glands began pumping faster and faster, causing his body's organs to speed up so dramatically that all he could do was freeze and bask in the sudden and overwhelming fear of the weird.
It is the drug's effect. Pay these apparitions no heed, Shadow.
The black specters had come within arm's length of the short hedgehog, and as they all stared at him, all facial features absent and eyes nonexistent as they held and locked with each other's hands, one struck out. At first, the wound was but a scratch, but within three seconds, a thin black line had blossomed into a deep gash; the pain was unbearable.
Shadow clutched his stomach, screaming out of pain and surprise. The voice had said pay the apparitions no heed; yet they had wounded him.
"God, why!" writhed the hurt hedgehog.
It is not real.
Another of the apparitions struck at him, this time slashing his eyes. The blow was with such force and surprise that it had knocked Shadow on his back, him now clutching both his face and stomach while trying desperately to curl up into a ball.
The specters would not relent, each began slashing and spouting out their own tones of sinister gibberish; some cast curses, others mocked the helpless hedgehog. The pain, fear, panic, and paranoia were all mixed together in a cauldron of black fluid, Shadow's mind, and he began to shake violently, his body knew not what to do.
Relax, Shadow, you must relax. Though they may strike you, and though the apparitions may appear violent, you must remain calm.
Shadow stuttered as he attempted to communicate with the voice in his head. "C-c-c I-I C-"
You must. The four phases of Delirium begin as panic and mild hallucinations, with a physical symptom of various black fluids flowing from all orifices. Soon, if you do not control the panic, your glands flood your body with excessive amounts of adrenalin, as well as force you to lose control of your emotions, particularly fear. This is followed by massive shocks to the nervous system and illusions of pain, and if by then you do not control your own agony, which none of Mr. Black's victims ever have, the drug will take your most intimate memories and torture you with them until either you suffer a stroke or lose your sanity, often both.
Although the strange, familiar voice tried to explain what was happening to Shadow, the dark one found it just a little difficult to understand with the specters mercilessly battering him.
Concentrate your thoughts on a single, vague idea; a drop of water, the flow of a river, the sound of a gentle song. Shut out the fervent agony and apparitions, or else you will die.
"Concentrate," muttered Shadow, the specters still tormenting his body.
Concentrate…
Concentrate…