This is how the conversations go, as I remember them:
Christopher Lee: During the war, I did not dream, not waking nor sleeping. In war, there is no space for dreams or dreamers. But now I dream always, when I close my eyes, there is no darkness; there is only the slackened faces of those who died beside me.
Mickey Mouse: I dream about rainbows!
Christopher Lee: When a man is stabbed from behind, he does not scream. The air rushes out of his lungs and he arches back like a bow, and then falls, silent and twitching, to the ground.
Mickey Mouse: Ahaha! I don’t want to know how you know that Mr. Lee!
Christopher Lee: The soldier I stabbed was younger than I, a boy with golden hair. I held him in my arms as he died, his throat a crimson river, his eyes wide and blue. They say a light goes out in the eyes when someone dies, but that isn’t always true, sometimes the light remains while the body dies, like the spirit is trapped inside the mortal shell. That was the first time my hands were covered with hearts blood, but it was not the last.
Mickey Mouse: Um, I sure hope Sora gets back soon!!