Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20140217201750/@comment-3293219-20140304183028

A heaven of hell
Lott awoke in his cell, the nightmares echoing, around his head. The screams, inside his head, quickly moulded into the screams of the tormented souls who currently surrounded him.

"Sleep well?" Ganlas asked, tilting his head.

Lott groaned and leaned forward, burying his face in his hands, rubbing his fingers into his eyes.

"I'll... Take that as a 'no."

"How long have I been here?" Lott groaned in despair. He had lost track of the days, weeks... months?

In reality, it had only been three days but he had spent it slipping in and out of consciousness.

Ganlas shrugged, helpful as ever.

"It's... so loud!" Lott's face hadn't left his hands as he spoke, muffling his words.

"They'll settle down in a bit..." His imaginary friend whispered, placing his hand on Lott's shoulder. "You've got me at least."

This was true; he didn't have Ganlas last time...

Ganlas is a product of his imagination, the fruits of Elsinian's dark, twisted labours. The altmer appeared to him one day and informed him that his cell door had been left unlocked.

His imaginary friend had always been there for him, even though he wasn't real, the altmer owed him a great deal.

"Yeah..." Lott replied, still glum from the hopelessness of it all.

They looked away from each other, knowing that this could be the end, for the both of them. Lott almost died, several times, the last time he was in Elsinian's 'care.' Though this time, he didn’t care about that… He no longer felt fear and he no longer dreamt. He had lost all desire to preserve himself and, if he had the means to do it, he'd end it all on the spot.

His nightmares were out done by the hell that he had to face, every day.

Sleep was now just practice, for when he becomes a corpse.

