Figure of shadows snapped quickly from their bereft region, patience wearing thinly o'er pekid hide. Ahhh, yes . . . mortals they were. Believing in heaven and hell, unknowning that there were those out there that were far greater and tormented then they themselves were.

Forever would they remain ignorant . . . and untrustworthy.

Single lapel savagely flares upon barren earth, thrusting visage towards it's must scent as insicors bared at femme.

"Time itself may stop, and perhaps so it has here. In itself it is torment, the memories it stirs are forever to be my eternal damnation. For I may not leave this place even I wished it . . . I cling to it as a child suckling from it's weary mother. Ahhh, yes I believe torment is to fine of a description for the burden which heaven forbid should be rested upon your soul. For none that I know, save three could bear it. One I have not yet found but seek, one is dead, chosen to walk into the mists of dawn . . . the other is winning while I smolder to nothing. My own child, so do not assume to tell me what is torment and what is not."