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The CellarThe cellar is dark. The floors damp with wet. Not just because of the moisture of the room, but also wet with freshly stained blood. Water dripped from the rusty and old looking texture of the room. It looked as if the 18th century had been restored into something only a horrible nightmare could provide.The darkness that surrounded the awful looking place only surrounded the four corners of the room in pitch blackness.The only thing that even had any light coming from the darkness was the hot lights that hung over the steel table. Its cold robotic feel to it would make anyone who was strapped in uncomfortable. Not just because of the chilling atmosphere, but the taut leather straps that held the man in place were tight around his wrists. The braces around the man's chest and limbs glued him to the upright planks. The only thing that felt even REMOTLY open, was his back. A small hole was open behind the steel table; just enough so he could feel the cold air that loomed over the place.
Dark is my moodMi creador querido está deprimido.Ella busca un corazón..Una buena, en el mejor.Ella lloró ayer por la noche.Y fue en vano.Sus palabras, sin precedentes..Y su corazón vela.Dormir por siempreEs lo que desea.Pero esa consecuencia es grave.Así pues, en solitario, se sienta.Pensando en sus accionesPensando en su situaciónPero aún no se escuchan. Así que se espera, y piensa.¿Cuándo va a volver?.Nadie lo sabe, o piensa.Así que se despide.El corazón de un pesado.Pero su mente se aclaró, por lo que no será tan cansado.