'It's better to keep things as they were and wait a million years until your life begins again. That's the only way to rid yourself of guilt.' He kept a pensive gaze. The nighttime light was dim but it illuminated the darkness well. The sound of the wind blowing, the moon glaring down at the land, the clouds and blue overhead, all reflected in his dark brown pupils.

"I agree." he told. A figure in his hands, and not just a hallucination from fatigue, the blood of his body had already stopped and gone cold for days, maybe weeks... Regardless, she slept on peacefully while he held her body, as if an image burned into his memories. It wasn't real. It wasn't fake either.

Maybe they would never wake.

'When will this end...' Zabulus' voice raged quietly and in anger. It wasn't a cry of pain, again, but of frustration and anger at everything he had seen Guillerme do. All the blood spilled by his hand, and the souls he had stolen, or had attempted to, or maybe even the innocent men and women, and even three children, all just to end up with a body that is cuddling a woman's body.

Guillerme breathed deeply for a bit. And exhaled, relaxing. He let his limbs move, his lungs draw oxygen, his vision open. The vision of a room around him. They were on a wooden bed, although the mattress wasn't soft or nice. Everything had felt too rough, too firm, even the pillow under their heads. There was a lamp sitting on top of a desk nearby, flickering and vibrating erratically like a bomb waiting to explode or something like that. He wondered what could possibly happen inside this room. But nothing could happen. Nothing ever happens in here.

How they both got here... Or were still here, wasn't clear at all.

If this was truly a dream, perhaps there were better settings for an experience like this, or so Guillerme hoped. If he woke up somewhere other than this, he'd be quite happy, no doubt. But... again, he was already with someone he might cherish dearly for centuries to come... no. He wouldn't mind staying like this forever. But would she ever accept him and all that he was capable? That was impossible... for it was the impossible itself.

Many doubts rushed his mind and mind alone. However, he didn't dwell long. He leaned into the warmth of her bosom and closed his eyes once again. And so, his consciousness faded into slumber.

K---cre...cccr-ecrr..ree...ecer....

All in silence, he awaits with anticipation. The question is, will that noise stop anytime soon? He knew it won't.

Kkk----rrrr......e......cres-rc...ss....s......

Sight and hearing... What was it about seeing her sleeping body in front of him that brought such peace to his mind, psyche and soul?

Bzzzzzzzzz! BZZZZZZZZZZZ!!

Incoherent noises and a bright light entered his world, consuming everything. The blackness, the stars and all... All consumed whole... Where was he...? His memories began to slip as he drifted along on the current of nothingness, engulfed in a whiteness without limit or end.

She could still remember him. That one person. A strange man with nothing but two horns, four arms and an eerily familiar smile, but why couldn't he remember her name? Did it truly matter, now that he was gone from her life for god knows how long? Why does her heart keep hurting even after everything's over and done with? No answers ever came, for she only saw her life play out. As she sits in silence... the man; Guillerme, soundly asleep while his face nuzzled deep into her bosom.

With another gentle kiss pressed against his temple, she quietly got up and walked slowly out and downstairs.

Kkhhhr-hr-hr. HRRRR!

His consciousness wasn't awake yet, but a faint fluttering in his eyelids signaled it wouldn't be long until then. For however long he was gone in his soul, he thought it'd be longer before his awakening occurred... Maybe... a few hours more? No, minutes at best? Maybe the one in control didn't want anything to happen whilst he slept away in another person's soul? Whatever the hell.

He felt his consciousness beginning to rise, a sharp sensation overtaking his soul.

Suddenly, he felt it being pushed down. Why? How?

"Sucker!" Idalia's voice echoed, screaming from deep inside. A voice like an angel, if one could compare. She spoke aloud in this world her brother himself had created in this very void of being.

"I have this chance!" It screamed once again, clearly audible as Guillerme's consciousness faded back into the soul, and Idalia rose to reality.

The entire area grew dark. No light shone. Only shadows and the shadow of a shadow and a deeper shadow in this empty void. A void made just for him. It had become darker than the shadow beneath his feet, but perhaps he did not think so deep or further than the physical realm.

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As he finally felt a physical ground below him, signifying an exit, he stepped out. This new room wasn't one he'd experienced previously, but it was a place he'd likely live his whole existence in before. Though he'd be a spirit for eternity and never age another second, albeit only physically.

"You're here again, brother." Distorted and hoarse, an eerie voice called out to Guillerme from nowhere. His expression became grim. It was Zabulus, but why specifically him? Did Zabulus hate him so much to have pulled him out from the comforts of his own warmth just to torture his brother? And who's to say it was anything? A false, a fake? Nothing. A simple, measly nothingness, void of substance, but was still an existence, albeit unjustified, the hate was unjustifiable as much as a lack thereof.

Idalia's face was emotionless. As she awoke alone in an uncomfortable wooden bed, sheets tangled and twisted. The door stood slightly cracked open. Not exactly what it should've been, not even remotely, not in the slightest...

What is time? A concept based upon our ability to distinguish whether the past, present and future exist as separate states. The present is the passage of time. The past is the memory of a series of occurrences and events, all leading to one moment in particular; the future, it is simply the abstract concept which exists when one ponders the idea of change, an outcome of sorts, be it a good thing or a bad thing. So then, is time really measured? Or simply perceived and interpreted by our minds as linear?

These thoughts upon the childs mind brought upon the desire to learn and know the truth behind all that ever was or could be. This had been his goal from the day she was born, and never stopped. And as days turned into weeks and months, her knowledge continued to expand and increase, eventually coming to realize one day that a key to understanding such mysteries would never truly be known, regardless of any hard work she put in pursuit through the memories of millions or even billions.

If it had taken years, years would it be? Maybe it took decades, or longer.

Despite it all, she was still a child at heart. Maybe that was why she couldn't learn anything, just like her youngest brother Zabulus.

Even so, how does one learn something that has no substance? To do so is a meaningless, idle notion and an empty endeavour. It is nothing, the very same way an empty ocean is nothing, an infinite and boundless plain.

...What could be learned, no, not what can, not the information gained or obtained. Yet...

If that which doesn't exist can be imagined.

No, if that which cannot exist can be imagined;

Then one can also create or make something with the same meaning of 'what can't exist', with the very same concept, then yes, there's the proof!

"...Ugh..." Idalia woke up, realizing her body had begun to reek of sweat, thus causing the unpleasant odour and the sweatiness. As she got up, she took some moments to properly take in the invisible room around her, feeling it as well.

After adjusting herself, the door, suddenly, opened wide on its own and led into a hallway, stretching endlessly, both to the left and the right sides, neither direction clear enough to determine its orientation or if it did end.

Despite this, it appeared well lit; there weren't any shadows at all. Was this some form of illusion? Did everything here just work in reverse? It had all been confusing and somewhat disappointing at first, but maybe she'll figure everything out sooner or later.

Well, she figured something at the moment: How long she had spent thinking of nothing, staring and pondering over these philosophical issues and concepts within her mind had passed; now it's been a few seconds since waking. She had wasted time and thus, the hallway extended further as she stood watching, mesmerized.

Although, she still needed to make a decision at some point or another.

"Left. Right..." she spoke aloud. Neither sides had a sign that indicated anything new.

The ends of the hallway distorted, waving around almost as though alive.

But, as it twisted and swirled about, she couldn't make out whatever was behind the hall's entrance. Could it simply be a figment? Or would she just die at an instant?

No, of course, this was surely the case. If this was indeed where everyone ended up, then there would definitely be someone here, anyone at the very least. No people to share with, or speak to and converse with, there isn't even a possibility of it. And she had an idea. An idea of what could have happened, could possibly happen, was already happening and has been happening and has happened in this place. She must get out, immediately. Get away from here, before anything terrible happens to herself.

Though that was impossible, for there was only a dead end beyond. No other paths available. This wasn't a question anymore. Rather, more of a statement.

One door; there was just one door in the waving halls that could lead to somewhere proper.

So she stepped out, a scream suddenly echoing from below. She looked down to see that the wooden floor and saw that the ground contorted into a small face of something, she didn't recognize it and did not try identifying it. She kept her calm composure as her legs began descending forward. She thought she would hit the wall ahead and so she braced herself, prepared for impact, though that didn't happen and the sudden fall caused a panic and a reflexive reaction. She stretched her arms outwards in fear, grasping and grasping for support but nothing was there and instead grabbed on with her own hands the doorknob which held a circular windowpane right below its metal rim, directly beneath her.

Sensing its movements, a creature formed behind her, watching, studying, taking notice. A wooden creature made of this cottage, wood all over its form, even for a mask that made up the face.

It stood only seven feet tall, with tiny sticks for arms that seemed very fragile, unable to carry any heavy loads and needing assistance from other beings to complete tasks if it existed outside. It stood in the center of her vision as she turned around. A giant monster. But a weak creature with only two legs to hold it up off of its ground surface. It had two horns, which gave it the appearance of... oh, she noticed.

The creature was copying the appearance of the body in front of it.

Like a mirror reflecting an image back to its viewer, it followed suit with no hesitation, without blinking and moving its own appendages. Upon closer examination of its eyes, they were hollow inside. With darkness and an abyss behind them, it didn't have a mind in them whatsoever.