Ignis Fatuus

"Go on. Reassure yourself, like always, that I am just one of your pesky illusions. " The man exclaimed casually. A lazy twirl of his finger and the ropes loosen themselves off Alex. "Just a figment of your imagination," whispered the intruder. The clack of soles came to a sudden halt, "However, Alex." He hissed. The man turned sharply; realistic, dead, and hallow eyes met his.

"I'm not."

Alexander, no older than sixteen, was avoided by his peers and elders in his colony. Why? Rumors and stories revolve around his strange habit of talking in languages unknown to them and claiming things that aren't there to see. He was mad...was he?
Alexander Gaschler was by far from one.