The room beyond is of medium size, and perfectly square. There are no windows and no furniture - not even any other doors. The room is lit with some strange form of gray-green illumination that creates small shadows, and is barely enough to read by.

This way goes nowhere. There is only the room, and its sole occupant - sprawled up against the wall across from the door, and quite still. His head lies on his shoulder at an odd angle, and the sound of the rain and the cool breeze seems to radiate outward from him.

He is a young man, dressed as young men tend to these days. He is wet, as though he'd just come out of the rain that you hear. As you come closer, you wonder if he really is out, as water from an unseen source constantly beads and splats against his pale skin.

A small crackpipe is clutched loosely in his left hand. Water drips from it and onto the floor without making so much as a splash, or a puddle.

His face is darkened, and his mouth is wide open. And as you come closer still, you see that he has no eyes at all. His gaping sockets are empty windows, showing a great rainstorm that goes on far beyond them.

Gray-green clouds move slowly behind his face, seeping into view from his right socket to his left, and then away. Lightning plays in those clouds, and it lights up the young man's skull from within as the thunder booms out of him...