She smashed into his mind without care, streaking through the lurid images of death and destruction. Torture. Desolate, unrelenting death, as well as the thin finger of happiness he always felt whenever he watched someone in pain. But most shamefully, she must have seen the swirling purples and blues and violets, the fear that infected his every waking moment, oozing, dripping from him like a gangrenous wound. 