Numb

Blood. Inky blood, pooling around mangled corpses. 

There was an arm in the corner. The body it belonged to was on the other side of the room, its golden blonde curls and frilly royal dress soaked through with blood. It's one mouse ear twitches as the pool grew larger.
There was another body slumped on the wall, a gaping hole through its torso, and its face so bloody and mangled their identity could've only been guessed by the torn scarf around their neck. 

Two more sat on thrones on the Dias, their heads both severed and on the floor. Others were strewn about the room as well, but their features began to blur, until he couldn't tell them apart. Until he held no recognition of them.
Looking upon the massacre, he felt nothing. He looked at his bloodied hands. He felt nothing. He looked at the crown by his feet. He felt nothing.
Nothing at all.

He jolts awake.
His heart isn't racing. He isn't soaked in sweat. He isn't scared. He still feels nothing.
He knows it's not good, to be numb, so he gets up. He feels nothing, but he gets up anyway.

- Cassata -

Cassata had given up on trying to fall asleep hours ago. Every time he closed his eye he saw fangs and blood. 

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, fidgeting with his scarf trying to clear his head, when the door opened.

Looking up, he saw a familiar figure, with an unfamiliar expression.

Pizza stood in his door way, his gaze downcast, and face blank, void of all emotion. There was no shine of hope in his eyes like usual. They were completely empty.

Cassata frowned, standing up. He'd be lying if he said this was first time he'd seen him like this. While definitely a rare occurrence, it had happened enough that Cassata knew the drill by now.
He walks towards Pizza, stopping a few feet away from him. He holds out his arms, waiting to see if Pizza would walk into them. They did this to test how bad the episode was. If Pizza didn't move, then he was likely stuck in a dream like state, and didn't recognize him. If he did however, that meant that he was at least slightly aware of his surroundings.

After a moment of stillness, Pizza does eventually stumble forward, falling against Cassata, tucking his face between his neck and shoulders. He doesn't move anymore beyond that, his posture and expression still empty of any emotions. 

Slowly, Cassta brings his arms around Pizza, hugging him tightly. He shuts his eye and burrows his nose in Pizza's hair, hoping that this episode would be one of the shorter ones. He really didn't like seeing that desolate look on Pizza's face.

- Pizza -

The same person, who's face had been torn off, now stood in front of him, perfectly intact with their arms outstretched. He knew them. He knew this person. They were good, they would fix him. They were the one he was supposed to go to when he felt like this. When he felt like nothing. When he felt nothing. 

He thinks they're waiting for him to do something. But he isn't sure what. His feet move without warning, and he doesn't know what's happened but soon their arms are around him, holding him up. 

"C'mon, Pizza," a voice whispers, but it sounds faded and far away. "Come back to me."
Something soft– A pair of lips press against his forehead, and suddenly, as if they had put it there, a name pops into his mind.
"Cassata." 

The name rolls off his tongue, like the chorus to a familiar song. 

Suddenly crimson isn't the only color.

Suddenly numb isn't the only thing he feels.