As long as he could remember, bereavement had been his only relative, his crutch to a life much simpler than this. A shadowy entity only visible to the creator; like a spectre of the night, uncannily lurking over his shoulder, feeding off his being whenever repentance took control of its vessel, refusing to relent until the broken bonds had been firmly cemented shut. It was a coping mechanism, a way to bury a troubled mind deep beneath the sand, just out of reach of the snakes that burrowed endlessly to find a chink in his impervious armour. He didn’t want it to end up like this, and in his right mind, who would? Left alone to face the cruel world without the soft, tender clutches of family, a world where you need to sell yourself just to make amends for the debts of ghosts.
The single candlelight offers him little respite from the maniacal clutches of darkness, though, just enough to highlight the makeshift shrine he’d amassed to those long gone, never forgotten. To family and friends anew; it wasn’t much, but then again, nothing could ever come close to honouring that of your role models or the love of your life, the people who helped shape him into the man he was today. Here, the cave hides his shame, his tears from the prying eyes of the outside world, a safe space where the only thoughts were those of his own colourful fruition. If only for a moment before returning to the bloodshed, he could say he found peace, something not one of his brothers could share.
❝ Until tomorrow... ❞ the broken man marked his parting words with a solemn nod, though, just before he could turn away, the gladiator’s attention was caught by the bouncing of the flame. His pictures left trembling on the smooth rock face as the tremors rapidly grew in strength. Calloused digits scour the cave walls in an attempt to regain their balance. All the while, a glance shifts to the cave’s opening, now becoming a welcoming blue iris. He garners an inch of strength as he finally manages to find solid footing, but is quickly swept from his feet once more as the ground swallows him a hole. His fall may have only lasted a matter of moments before he hit solid ground, but to him, it felt like an eternity as his life flashed before his very eyes before everything going black.
There was a shadow of hope coiling from within, somehow wishing that this was all just one bad dream, that he’d wake up and it’d all be over. However, deep down he knew he was living off false prophets, but just for one moment, he thought he could pretend, of a better life, a past life. His eyes flickered open, tentatively opening and then closing again, expecting hell to await him with open arms. The world was a blur to him when he awoke, taking a moment before his vision came back to him. He managed to just about sit up, amazed that he still had functionality in all his limbs, nothing broken, at least, nothing that he could tell from a short self-diagnosis. ❝ What the hell are you doing down here? ❞ the words fired from his mouth without a moment’s thought, almost forgetting entirely of his own current predicament. The pain and torture ceased, be it only a short moment as the thrill of adrenaline circled through his blood stream. Beaten and bloodied, the man once more finds his feet, coming to rest just in front of @viilein’s restraints.
