He awoke suddenly from a vivid dream of lush hills spotted with the most tender and beautiful flowers that he had ever seen. His mind seemed to enjoy playing such cruel tricks on him for when he opened his eyes to the real world he was only greeted by the non-sight of absolute nothingness. It had been over seven years since his eyes had opened upon anything else and in that time he had mostly adjusted to his lack of vision but in moments like this one he still mourned the loss.
As he climbed out of bed he felt the warmth of the sun’s rays falling upon his body and he realized yet again just how much he missed watching his cats flipping and rolling in random sunbeams. He could envision it in his mind so clearly that it was almost a form of second sight but this was never truly enough. With a sigh he absentmindedly picked up the walking stick that he didn’t actually need in his home anymore and he made his way into the kitchen.
As his feet hit the sticky tile he felt a sickening rush of dread rush over his body as he instantaneously knew that something was very wrong. He cocked his head to the side and strained his ears for any stray sounds but none that were out of the ordinary came to him. Cautiously he stepped a little further into the kitchen but stopped as his feet encountered a large form in the way. He bent down, touched it and quickly jumped up as it was covered in a substance that felt and smelt like blood.
Running from the kitchen his heart raced in his ears as his mind frantically tried to fit the pieces together. What had happened here and how had he not heard anything? No one else lived with him nor did anyone else have a key yet there appeared to be a dead body lying on his kitchen floor. As he fumbled with his bedroom door something collided with his head and the pain was so intense that he blacked out.
When he came to he was surprised to see that he could almost see. Whatever had hit him in the head had apparently jarred his optical nerves in a way that no surgery was capable of and although his vision was quite distorted he could almost make out shapes. With tears quickly forming in his eyes he forgot momentarily about the situation that he was in and he simply enjoyed the doubled vision of his oldest cat walking towards him.
It was the last thing he would ever see as the machete was swiftly rammed into his back and then again and again in several other areas of his body. He never knew that his attacker was the serial killer that the FBI had been tracking for over a year but he did die with a smile on his face.