Time
A mere perception conjured in the human brain based on the assumptions that things will always happen, have happened, and will happen. It is ironic in a way that humans never truly stop to think about what time is from our standpoints. We never think about the future and we rarely condone ourselves to remember our past, no matter how grim or delightful it was. No, there is only the undying and shining present, the perfect world that we have forged so ignorantly within our minds. That our loved ones will remain with as always, that our rivals will always challenge us and never seek for redemption, that everything around us is static and motionless. Nobody wants to deeply think ahead of the game, no, they only wish to think what they believe will be the future. Time is no longer a game of guessing what will happen...it's a game of guessing how your present will forever be.
For one certain Swedish boy, Time is dead.
The clicking and ticking of a clock rings within the boy's ears, but is time truly flowing? Day-in and day-out, reliving the same experiences over and over in a monotone cycle that is worst than burning deep within Hades or Hell or whatever Underworld greets the boy. The black-haired preteen would wake up, strapped snugly and securely in a steel chair bolted to the ground. Breakfast would be fed to him by a nurse, followed by physical examinations and reports with lunch following. Occasionally, there might be one minor experiment, but besides that the boy known as "Subject 906" was damned eternally to padlocked room. Once in a Blue Moon, "Father" or "The Angel of Despair" would make a surprise visit to Subject 906.
At first, Subject 906 could remember the suffering and torture from the experiments. How his screams cried and echoed loudly, but never truly reached the pitch of pure agony of transforming into It. Going into It mean something far more than a grotesque mutilation of his skeleton and skin complexion; It was not Subject 906 in the lightest, or more accurately, what was left of Subject 906. Not only did Subject 906 lose himself physically and mentally, but the youngling lost himself spiritually. Bits and pieces of him fell apart, collapsing into mere nothingness as he grew more and more apathetic and dull. Maybe that's why the boy fancied calling himself "Agony", as he was living embodiment of suffering through a pain that held no true source but lasted for an eternity.
So, as usual, Agony simply awaited, his thick, midnight black hair draping the empty and chilly grey-blue eyes of the hollowed child. Restrained like a dog and kept deep within the darkest corners of Fallen Shadows, the lost soul softly bit his lip at the damning sound of that cursed clock. The room was cursed in his mind, all of it. From the padded walls, the cameras, the clock, the heavily reinforced door, even to damn lights. All it just reminded the Swed boy that he was caught like a mouse, like a cat playing with it's food before swiftly devouring it. Throwing his head back violently to bang against the metal of the chair, Agony simply waited. There was some talk about rounding up the experiments if you will, though the order hadn't been directed to Subject 906 due to his very unstable and violent possibilities.
Funny, in a place where monsters and ghoul of all descriptions resides, the facility was scared of a boy who hadn't even hit puberty yet.
What a mad world.