Shadows danced their way around what to some would be considered some form of a room - the crimson liquid dowsed tools spoke otherwise that this was not just any room -. To the point where you could hear a sicking crack of a person's neck as they tried to pin point the initial location of each intricately cut shadow as they weaved their way around him in no particular flow as if they were some sort of black watered mist freed at last from the depths, turning, twisting and surely testing the disfigured man's rapidly fading grey line of patient's.
No this 'man' did not get such luxury to locate the shadows location since his mouth had long since formed a silent scream that was dismissed along with him. Had he been a religious man he would've been surprised to find that hell wasn't what mere humans had once thought it was. It was as if a cold, callous hand had wrapped itself around what was left of him, there would be no mercy as karma would graciously pay him back.
Before he had befallen the alluring charms of the darkness there was one shadow that had such clarity, the horror of her past carved into her face as if it was a permanent tattoo, a reminder if you will. If he had the chance to look even a second longer he would've been hit with a ravenous wave of a sick sort of pleasure that only the truly sadistic could enjoy as they finished playing with their victims.
A flame of hope can easily be smothered by the darkness however for this man there was none. He deserved everything that karma threw at him yet he faced it with a broken grin. To the humans he was 'sadistic' 'cruel' 'disgraceful' a villainous criminal for a sin he did not commit. To the shadows he was a toy to be broken, torn apart, fixed and reused as if he was nothing more than an element in their brutal entertainment. Fate is a ruthless, barbaric and bittersweet thing it'll build you up then tear you apart with its poison drenched talons then sow you back together and rewrite you like the sweet hum of a humming birds wings a melody for everyone to enjoy as a cover up for the bleak future of those who cross it, whether accidental or with a purpose. This man was one of these cases 'The wrong place at the wrong time' Fates favourite playthings.
