Wind howled as the frigid air stabbed at his body. The moon cast heavy shadows around the young man's face, masking the vacant expression he wore. Empty eyes stared straight ahead. The bustle of enraged cars and the blinding, pulsing colours of light were all but a dull glow in the background.

Greyscale.

The beauties of the world were unable to reach out and pull the man back to reality from his high tower. He was too far away from the real world. He was too close to the end. Voices muttered in his mind. Torments from the past allied together to form a living nightmare. A victim of his mind. A victim of neglect. A victim of deception. Silence screamed at him through the sleepless nights spent staring at the knife. Too afraid of tomorrow. Yet too afraid of the pain.

The building was a decaying corpse. Rubble formed the support and broken glass, like sharks teeth, protruded through square holes on the sides. Everything of value was taken however nothing was left untouched. Splintered desks. Shattered lights. Slitted curtains. Police who were too lazy to take responsibility left (human) nature take its course. The two hundred storey building stood, seemingly frozen in time, on the verge of collapsing. This was enough to keep the human race way from this area, yet on occasion, reckless youths would display their masks of fear mixed with courage through venturing into the building and taking a piece of scrap as their trophy for dancing with death. Once every blue moon there may have been one or two brave enough to climb to the top. Their award for their clueless-ness, was a view so breathtakingly beautiful. The cityscape laid out below them like rows of diamonds sparkling in their display cases. The view was so enchanting that it could serve as the perfect scene to envision, as ones last breath mixes with the air.

The teeth of the corpse had sliced the man's arms and leg, crimson dripped down his body but none of this mattered to him. Not any more. His legs wailed at the endless flights of stairs but he never stopped. Darkness blinded him. Darkness lead him. The dazzling view blended together to form a thick painting, surely coloured with dirt. Soon. Very soon the man would be able to escape his torment. His cage.

10... One step. His legs screamed at him to stop. The man didn't stop.

9... His toes curled over the edge. The ground below him looked comforting.

8... A deep breath.

7... A piece of rubble fell. A small crash was heard. A lullaby to the man's ears.

6... Some large clock chimed once, twice, three times... twelve. Silence.

5... One last step. An abyss underneath.

4... Flying.

3... Falling.

2... The man's eyes peacefully shut.

1... Pain. Red. In an instant it all filled his mind.

0... Nothing.

He lips curved into a smirk. He placed the pawn down onto the chessboard. Checkmate. The pawn glowed a brilliant red. Ten thousands of cracks appeared in the pawn. Shattering.

"R....e........w.......i......n....d"

Shattering. Ten thousand cracks mended themselves. The red glow ceased. He pulled his hood over his head and folded his leg together. Laughter.

"Welcome...(_)"

0... Nothing.

1... Pain. Red. In an instant it all filled his mind.

2... The man's eyes forcefully opened.

3... Flying.

4... Floating.

5... One last step. A platform above.

6... Some large clock chimed once, twice, three times... twelve. Silence.

7... A piece of rubble flew up. Confusion.

8... A deep breath.

9... His toes curled over from the edge. The ground below him looked foreign.

10... One step backwards. His legs screamed at him to stop. The man stopped.

"Wh...o a..re yo..u...?" The man's voice rasped.

The wind only whistled.

"Who am I...I wonder too..."

The air suddenly felt too cold. His body suddenly too painful to move. The blood too warm. The dirt washed off the canvas, lights streamed into his eyes. Blinding. The stress in his body was like a volcano. It had built up until the pressure was too much and it finally exploded in the form of a glistening salt stream. The stream started from the eyes and formed a lake in his hands. Filtering down into the rubble.

The clock ticked and tock-ed its way into the new day, not a second was lost but ten more were gained.

10 years of sadness converted to tears. Flushed out into the world. Relief. Fear. Confusion. His real self was gone. His mask shattered. 

Author's notes:  Sigh..... there is meant to be a g underlined after the first a. It doesn't show up on the app so.... (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞