184- Tristam

Cold. All he felt was nothing but the cold. The same cold he experienced before, when his father imprisoned him in a small shack at winter. He couldn't remember what he did to deserve such cruel punishment, but what he did remembered was the chilling cold prickling his skill and slowly immobilizing his fingers. He remembered how his teeth gritted involuntarily as the cold slowly froze his entire body, embracing him to his eventual demise.

He couldn't remember what happened after he descended from the well. His memory was in a blur and every time he tried to recall it, he gets a piercing pain in his temples.

He opened his eyes and found the nothingness of the dark. The pitch-black veil was all he saw that he thought he was going blind, but no, it was far from it. He thought of suddenly hearing a whisper coming from his mind. It was a faint whisper, so subtle that he thought it was part of his inner voice—it wasn't.