...

It felt cold for this particular soul. Not hot or blistering, like it was supposed to be. It was just cold. 

It once had a memory, a past, it could feel it. Somewhere deep inside. But there was nothing now, not even feelings. All that could pose as memories for the little soul was the emptiness it experience while trapped in the cage. But it wasn't of discomfort or pain. It was almost peaceful, if not for the occasional hand or foot being crammed into places they shouldn't ever be. It might've wanted to remain that way forever. Maybe...

But its comfortable dark world came crashing down around it, and was replaced with a new bloodier one. It plopped onto the floor and was made to bear witness to the brutality of its new 'master'. This Horned beast of sort. But still, nothing changed for the pale little soul. It still felt numb and cold. However, something slowly began to dawn upon the little soul as it stood there and watched the carnage unfold. The giant monster treated their own brethren like worthless cattle, gobbling and tossing away lives as if they meant nothing, and then they were made to suffer in a cruel game, purely for its sick and twisted enjoyment. Seeing all this made the soul realize, not how hopeless and futile their situation was, though indeed this fact was undeniable, but rather, how [i]interesting[/i] everyone else was compared to it. Some of the white and faint souls crumbled and wept, completely broken to the torment, and others were compelled to move the thorny rocks out of fear, desperate to the point of even killing one another just to please their tormentor. No matter what, they all did [i]something[/i]. It didn't understand this. Why? Despite them all looking the exact same, why was it unable to react like the others? 

It tilted its head slightly, as if it would help it reach an answer for its question. 

The question hung on its mind as they stood there in a state of perplexity, completely unresponsive to the gnashing voice above. Even when it understood the threat of the jagged yellow teeth and the bloody black mace, it was not compelled like the others were. What was death anyway? It surely wouldn't have been any worse than what life they had now. No, there was something more important and pressing to the soul. And so it continued to watch the others, trying and understand this strange dilemma it was having. 

'What was the point?', it thought, gazing at all of the frantic souls scuffling all around them. Why do [i]anything[/i]? Did they feel fear? Again, there was no point. They were powerless to these greater beings, so there was no point in feeling fear, nor was there a reason to listen to their commands. Feeling fear or doing what this beast said wouldn't change the impossible. Only death would set them free. So why fear it? Plus, such a feeling would suggest they held themselves some sort of value, or that they possessed something worth fearing. But from what it has seen, they were mere nothings. 

As it searched for the answer to this puzzle of puzzles, an even more interesting developed happened.  

The wispy white form watched with wide eyes as the gluttonous horned giant faltered, choking and sputtering on its unsightly snack, its claws grasping its thick and flayed neck. Perhaps it should've learned to swallow? In the chaos, the lone soul then contemplated an action. 

Its eyes went first to the cliff across the bed of thorny rocks. Should they dare try to escape? The bodies impaled from earlier should be able to act as a buffer to the spikes. But that would mean risking the wrath of the horned monstrosity. It would surely end up dead if it were to get caught, eaten or smashed like the other pitiful souls. But the beast was weak now, wasn't it? This was the best chance to do so. Then again... Even if they were to succeed, what lied beyond such a dark and hopeless place? Probably nothing much better. It was all hopeless anyway. Maybe it should just lie down and just wait to die? The Horned Guard would surely answer its wish once it got back up. Truly, it wouldn't be happy after such an embarrassing display. But what exactly did death in this new world mean? Maybe death would feel like how it did within the cage; a place of peace. The corpses around them suggested as much. They no longer struggled, no longer felt the pain and suffering that once ailed them.

As the little white soul pondered these last bits for a moment, it noticed yet another new and interesting development. The released souls were now beginning to swarm the twisted mound of flesh, taking advantage of its vulnerability and laying siege upon its body. It stared with wide eyes. This was something they didn't expect to happen, not in the slightest. And as the soul watched, it could not even believe what it was seeing. These supposed 'nothings' were wounding the 'great' one, yanking out the metal staples that bound its massive gullet. They were doing the [i]impossible[/i]. 

The coldness it felt up until this point was gone now, overcome with a strange and faint glimmering. 

Suddenly, the pale little soul found itself disliking the idea of death. 

This new world was so, very interesting. It liked watching all the things happening, even if sometimes it did not understand. Maybe there was more to it? There had to be. Not to mention, it didn't even find an answer to its question yet. 

[i]I want to do what they do... to do interesting things too...[/i]

As these thoughts bounced around in its head, very slowly, the little white soul began to move. One foot at a time, as it followed the others towards the slowly exposed gullet. It wanted to experience more. And it was by the hands of its fellows that it was allowed such a pleasure. Maybe it was time they also did [i]something[/i]. 

The pale little soul climbed in a place between the bulbous mounds of pale flesh, maneuvering around the others and found a spot in between the white masses. It grabbed one of the large staples already being pulled with both hands, wrapping its fingers around the blood-rusted piece. With a great heave, it began yanking with all the might it could possibly muster. It wondered if it was too weak, feeling like its arms would break before the metal would come loose, shivering as it fought to tear the staple from the flesh. But soon enough, with a wet pop the metal sprung loose like a clogged nozzle, spraying it with blood as it clattered onto the stone floor. 

Sheesh, doing [i]stuff[/i] was hard work.

...