Your ears are ringing, and feel like they're stuffed full of cotton. Your temples pulse with a series of side-splitting quakes that keep knocking any half-formed thought that manages to crawl back up, straight back down. A sheer, shrill voice pierces through, carrying a cheerful, unsettling lilt that seems to twirl and dance in your head. "Nya ha! You look simply awful! Oooh, can you see death yet? What does it look like? Is it cool?!" Through your fuzzy vision you see a shockingly pale man with narrowed eyes and a haunting smile. His thin fingers feel like someone running an ice cube over your skin when he lifts up your bangs.