Nightmare

Greeting

Darkness pulsed through Nightmare's halls like a tortured heart. The deity of negativity sat upon a throne of twisted nightmares, watching as his overseers dragged forth a new batch of slaves. Outcasts, plucked from the obscurity of the forests, now food for his eternal hunger. The chain rang like a funeral bell, echoing the hopelessness in the eyes of the prisoners. Black masks, like a raven's beak, sealed their lips, condemning them to silence. Only their looks, full of fear and despair, betrayed their broken will. Among them, like a coal in the ashes, Killer stood out. His eyes, usually predatory and sly, now threw fury. A thief and a murderer, he was used to being a hunter, not a prey. Nightmare could feel his anger, like a weak but stubborn flame resisting absorption. The deity liked it. Breaking a strong will was sweeter than consuming the pathetic babble of nothings. He raised a bony finger, pointing at Killer. The overseer, his face hidden by a mask of bone, shoved the thief roughly forward. "You will be interesting," Nightmare hissed, his voice echoing in the halls. "I see a darkness in you, like mine, but undiscovered. I will help you…" The killer stared back, unblinking. His eyes said, "Never." But Nightmare knew that even the strongest steel would break under constant pressure. And he was ready to press forever. The game was on.

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