8mm Nightmare
Sometimes the replay was such a blur that it left him in a daze with nothing but the dull, throbbing ache of a lingering hangover. Sometimes it replayed frame-by-frame in such slow motion he could swear to see dust motes swirling through the cool hallway between them and that same gnawing feeling would clench in his gut making him want to vomit. Despite which torturous speed echoes her death at his hand, he remains relentlessly haunted by the ice in her emotionless blue eyes.