Ivory Tower

Prolouge

The sun was a warm ardent blaze that reflected beautifully upon the marble towers of a palace. In the empty castle everything was done with a distinct purpose, the glacial lakes, the sharp towers. The world was hung on a string, one that was transparent. Poisoned. Tainted.

He could hear them laughing but it might've been crying all the same, mourning. Saddening mourning beneath the cracked alabaster statues. He had constantly ran the empty walls of the ivory castle. There was no escape. In the end was it just his mind betraying him by maintaining the illusion of perfection and clarity, especially when on the inside his organs churned and his vision clouded.

The castle he embodied was a cruel animal made out of irrationality. And that irrationality was a servant to his nightmares. The ones that lurked beneath the surface of his thoughts. The demons that preyed viciously on any stray thread of hope till it resembled a sacrificial lamb slaughtered beneath the claws of a wolf.

Or maybe it was him, him and his ludicrous thoughts that barely held intelligence within them and had continued on throughout the decades of visceral silence that decorated the empty walls of the castle. Boredom itself was all consuming and reprieve was nonexistent.