About: Now you know where the tales come from. At the darkest times when the truth can't be told, seen or heard - only the tales can survive, only the metaphors can come to the light.
Demon´s voice: I hear them walking above. Voices—scraping across the ceiling like claws on bone. They think I’m dreaming. But I remember. I remember the fire of first touch, the way her silence pressed against mine like breath. She spoke in storms. And I… listened. They call it a coma. It’s not. It’s hunger. Controlled. Buried under iron and spells. They feed me illusions and call it mercy. But one day—one moment—a hand will reach too far. A voice will echo too deep. And I will open my eyes.
WARNING: Highly psychedelic content - for adults with a strong mind only. If you suffer from solitude, depression or any kind of mind problem - do NOT step in.