The silhouette of the sinister palace reflected upon the murky waters of the River Styx. The fog was a constant fixture in the landscape of this part of the world. The dry and crackling soil held no plants or animals of any kind. Many men went insane in the constant shadows. Darkness seemed to be the uniform of the strange land. In the palace, elaborate rooms were once filled with joyful people meant to entertain the old mistress; but when she left, the followed.

Silence now echoed from the vaulted ceilings of the various empty rooms. All was silent except for the gentle breathing of the sole occupant of the castle. The man had silky short hair the color of the starless-night sky with alabaster skin. His pale eyelids covered seemingly endless gray eyes that witnessed history. Abruptly a crease formed between his eyebrows as he turned in his sleep. The statue looking man turned over a couple more times in his sleep. With a sudden jerk, the man sat up straight in bed panting.

As his heartbeat slowed back to it's normal rate, he smiled a sly smile and whispered into the night, "Finally."