BLUE PLAYER: Blur The Technicolor

I take a steadying breath, willing my body to calm.

(OK, take stock, quickly)

I QUIETLY CHECK the PAINTING, including the frame and back, looking for any series of numbers or hidden objects. Satisfied, I SNEAK down the hallway, trying to minimize my own shadow as I head to the far door. I take the left branch of the hallway,then turn right pressing my back against the wall, LOOKING back at the place I was, waiting for the shadowed shape, tensed for any action, making NO SOUND.

(Maybe they could help?)
(They also might be a complete psychopath)

I let my eyes adjust to the darkness

(I've got a screw.. I could cut, with it?)
(Now who's the psychopath?)

My fists clench spasmodically.
(NOT me)

I close my eyes for a moment, images flashing in my mind's eye.

(Crying)
(Held down)
(A knife)
(Over and Over)
(Blood Blood BLOOD!!!)

(...Not me..)
...
(Are you sure about that?)

I clench my jaw, hands at the ready.
(I'll defend myself, but I won't attack)

I meld with the darkness, allowing my breathing to move in time with the hisses of the RASA TUBE.

(If it's a god damned cat, I'm going to laugh 'til I puke)
I bite my lip to keep from smiling.