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.