Moulin sat as silent as the night. Silver eyes are drawn towards the tall windows. The window panes glistened, bending light through the angles within the glass. they reflected the youth's serene countenance like an untouched lake under the night sky where the moonbeams pierce through the water. He breathes, burying the urge to close his eyes. He must remain upright, calm, and accept everything going through his eardrums... even the furious voices surrounding him, pummeling his ear drums.
He feels scorching gazes upon him. He didn't turn to acknowledge them and he couldn't care less if they wanted him dead on the spot.
"The well-being of the young master's soul is of paramount importance. Should it be forcibly taken from him, will it not spell our demise?"
"The demons have already claimed a part of him and I bet my head, they would do it again. Take him piece by piece and it wouldn't be long before they've eaten him whole,"