NO U WERENT SUPPOSED TO BE PREPARED

|| The Count of Monte Cristo is SO good though!

theoinos sajustice

        breath slips through barely parted lips in wary sigh, sprawled limbs shifting upon mound of gold and boundless treasure. the movement causes cascade of coins and jewels, the tinkling of metal hitting metal filling the permeating silence of the cavern. eyes remain fixed in closed position, face smooth and relaxed where she rests. not at all bothered by small avalanche of riches beneath her. why should she be? such things have been only companion for many years now.

        eyes open slowly, languidly, as though movement itself requires far too much effort on the woman's part, and crimson orbs gaze upward toward sky- or where sky should be. if she were free. dark cave ceiling stares back as always, illuminated in kaleidoscope of glittering light reflected off plethora of bounty stretching out around her far as the eye can see. stalactites hang from above, and stalagmites erect themselves from the very ground, much like fangs of a great beast. and she dwells within the mouth.

        golden hair fanned about her, seeming to meld into the riches underneath. the woman herself seems as though she could melt into the very mount itself, becoming one with the golden hoard. she lies bare, and even skin seems endowed with golden hue, as though lying among the treasure has transformed her into extension of it. perhaps it has. she has been her for a very long time, far longer than she has ever remained fixed to one place.

                 ιт'ѕ αвσυт тιмє ѕнє ƒιη∂ ѕσмєσηє ¢αραвℓє σƒ ѕєттιηﻭ нєя ƒяєє.

        eyes close once more, deep breath sucked in through parted lips, and with it the light shining in the cave seems to dim, and woman glows brighter, brighter, brighter. until she lies sole light within dark abyss. then light explodes, bringing back shine of treasure, dancing lights upon cavern wall. but the woman is gone.

        the prison is breeding ground for misery, a glorious buffet of suffering for those creatures of the night that feed upon such negative energy. agonized wails and desperate pleas fill the air like most glorious symphony, cacophony reminiscent of time when man yet resided in state of chaos. eyes flutter closed in absolute rapture, soft exhalation of breath slipping from her without thought. eyes open and peer upon faces contorted with fear and anguish, and those devoid of any feeling at all. the eyes of the dead and the eyes of the tormented stare back at her, unseeing, in equal measure, and sight causes elation to swell within chest. such a foreign sentiment after ages of monotonous drawl, of days coming and going with nothing to alleviate endless boredom or halt lethargy sinking into her very bones, weighing her down like bags of sand wrapped around her ankles.

        this place is paradise to a being such as she, one she would model the rest of the world upon. yet even now she feels distant from ecstasy of this place, detached as her mind wanders the lands yet body remains chained to cavernous prison. she must be free. she must find the soul who will liberate her from her cage, and in turn she will see them free of this prison that would confine them.

        she must find the one soul within this place that yet holds hope, that remains innocent and pure at core despite horrors seen in this place. she must find one strong and virtuous enough to make the journey, yet one whose inner darkness threatens to swallow them whole.

breathes down ur neck tbh