Mori's head was spinning, unable to focus on anything in the room.
He saw shapes and colors moving around in a blur every time he regained consciousness.
It was a fleeting moment of sanity in a swirling pool of insanity.
That thing played with his mind, but he wouldn't let it win.
It felt like he was swimming in a whirlpool, constantly trying to get out of it while it constantly pulled him in.
His head would constantly be pulled below the surface, he'd start choking and drowning.
He would flail his arms and struggle with his legs to get his head out of the whirlpool, and whenever he did he would take the biggest breath he could.
He was tired and exhausted, but once he stopped fighting, he would be pulled into the depths.
He could feel it, its twisted nature at the bottom of those depths. It wanted him. It was pulling, he could feel its presence creeping on him.
