I lay on the ground, shivering.
The walls around me are made of stone, they fill up my world.
I cannot see beyond them. Have never seen beyond them.
Instead, I lay in this pit, on the cold ground, with a dark light surrounding me. It is the only light in the Pit.
The light is of the sky that blows snowflakes onto the Earth. Far above, I see this sky and it illuminates this world into a grey haze.
The beauty of it is undeniable. Yet, a snowflake never falls here. There is no white to marvel.
Outside these walls, the snow fills a surrounding forest of white birches and the cold ground.
I have never seen the forest, but it is there.
I lay on the Pit's stone, shivering; dieing.
The whispers of the Demons haunt me. They are the only other voices I know.
They tell me nothing but what is horrible.
But this Pit and the Demons of Darkness are beautiful.
They are my life source and I am theirs.
But the price of this pain is costly.