[center]Terror. That is all that it felt, the only thing it knew certain. It saw only blackness, all around, no light, no forms, nothing, the only company it had were the inane mumbling and whimpering that echoed. After a while it wasn't sure which of these sounds of desperation were its own and which belonged to other, probably just as unfortunate beings as itself. The vile darkness that caged it became maddening, it wanted to reach out, in a desperate attempt to move and crawl out of this void, yet it couldn't. The space, wherever it was, it was cramped and limiting, something always pushing against it, unable to move but only squirm in place like a worm in the dirt. It wanted to scream, it wanted to wail, 'HELP! HELP ME!' it wanted to shout to whomever and whatever was willing to listen, yet to it's horror it discovered that these cries were only real in the confines of its own broken mind, clutching and scratching at its own face revealing nothing but a smooth yet crude surface, no mouth with which to scream and no eyes to reveal anything. That instant alone was enough to drive it mad, it's squirming intensified, desperate to reach for someplace, any place, as far away from its blackened confines as possible. Yet the more it struggled the more resistance it felt, the whimpers that echoed all around being accompanied by similar squirming, pushing and grasping in a similar bout of desperation. How did it end up here? One sane enough would have asked themselves this question and pondered to rationally resolve it if only to keep the maddening terror at bay. Yet it had no such luxury, no, for as far as it was concerned, this vile blackness, these desperate wails, these nauseating cramped confines... This is all it knew for as far back as it could remember...

Movement... It felt a distinctive movement. Its limited squirming space became even smaller, the things around it pushing against its every side as if forced. It barely was able to motion one of its limbs yet it also felt the distinct movement of being elevated. And then... a miracle. The darkness was pierced by a sudden flash of light, replacing it entirely with nothing but whiteness. The sensation of elevation continued only to be abruptly stopped and replaced by decline, pushed down in equal measure by gravity and the weight of the things on top of it. It fell, tumbling on what vaguely felt like a semi-soft, fleshy surface before simply falling through the air, meeting the hard, rocky ground underneath as it made impact and rolled on the side like a weighed rag-doll. It's vision was starting to clear, the piercing whiteness being replaced by a blur of mixed, dark-earthly colors. It would have questioned its ability to see without eyes if it were not for the glorious sensation of having the freedom to move, no longer confined by whatever things cramped it in the darkness. Somehow it found the strength to stand, lifting itself from the hard surface and wobbling to keep balance as its muscles were tight and rigid, atrophied from its lack of proper motion in the dark. How odd. It expected to feel pain, distress, discomfort as it struggled to regain its balance, yet it felt no such thing. Indeed, it felt absolutely nothing, it just realized. Could all the sensations it felt earlier have only been as real as the sounds it wanted to produce, real only inside its head?

Whatever questions and sense of rationale it attempted to have were rudely interrupted however, as the blur it was seeing became clearer and painted a picture of absolute horror. The place it found itself standing in, it could only be described as HELL. All around it saw.. figures of shimmering, dim, white light with humanoid forms, scrambling and flailing about in agitation. Many were horribly disfigured and torn apart, some by means of odd black stones covered in spikes while many others were left in such a poor state by means unknown to it. This mystery was soon revealed as it's gaze fell upon a sight that nearly sent it back into its broken, whimpering state from which it had just escaped. The creature was of a colossal size, capable of grasping whole clusters of beings such as itself in it's immense, clawed hands. It's appearance was a grotesque, hideous malformation of sickly colored flesh, encased in small parts by metal as black as it's protruding, many-jointed horn-like appendages that sprouted from its head. It's leathery skin was stretched over what would be it's face, near-perfectly smooth save for the large gash in the middle which revealed a grotesque maw of yellowed, miss-aligned teeth which crushed and ground a plethora of these small, dimly-lit beings. The tainted flesh was bulging all around its form, seemingly struggling to contain the fat and whatever grim and grizzly contents within. This... hideous apparition, this monstrous creature of unreasonable size and unprecedented grotesqueness would have surely been the end if it were not for a stroke of luck. This monster appeared to be struggling on the floor, a large, oddly-placed, fleshy bulge was visible where it's throat would be, the creature starting to claw at it in an attempt to escape the choking on its own greedy feast.

Most of the furtive beings scampered and tossed about in equal measures of fear and confusion, yet some had taken advantage of the monster's misfortune and attacked it in whatever pathetic and ill-advised fashion they could. One such thing was climbed atop the fleshy mountain of its belly, struggling with all its fleeting strength to pull and loosen one of the odd, metallic staples that kept the slit in the middle of the creature's grossly body together. In what some would describe an act of inspired bravery or desperate madness, it too quickly scampered closer to the horrid thing and imitated the fellow furtive being, clutching at a separate staple with its thin hands and struggling with whatever ounce of strength and might it had left to pull it apart. Why it had this initiative it did not knew. Self-preservation was still a present instinct within the crumbling halls of its mind and for whatever reason it, a twisted logic made it clear to it that if attempting to run and scramble like the rest, all would be in vain. Better to meet one's end fighting rather than panicking in futility, that was a truth oddly present in it's mind and it did not question it as it tried and struggled to bring its grim task to an end and attempt to cause more suffering to this monster, however little it could.                [/center]