The room was dark. No light existed in the endless gloom. The smell of mold and decay hung heavy in the air, making every breath a battle to not gag. Moans echoed throughout the abyss. They cried of exhaustion and pain.

Hours passed. Maybe days.

The sharp sound of metal sliding on metal broke the monotony. It was followed by the protesting of rusted hinges and hollow footsteps.

A dark figure illuminated from behind by a pale red luminescence approached. Malevolent eyes and a wicked grim materialized within the shade as a pale hand as cold as ice reached out.

“Ahhhh.. Good tissue. Sturdy frame.”
The gaze rose and the lips smirked, their emotion never reaching the eyes.
“Spirit as well. My superiors will like this one.”
The eyes looked slightly off to one side and the smirk was replaced with a frown of dismay.
“Pity about the arm. It can be replaced, but that is never as good as the original.”
The gaze returned, piercing straight through to the soul.
“Yes… This one will be magnificent. We begin at nightfall”
As Ladrin turned to leave, the source of the illumination came into view. A spectre of darkest black, wreathed in pale red flames. Its eyes lingered, then it too turned and followed its master.
The last of the pale light revealed half a dozen mangled bodies, barely clinging to life, chained along the wall. All save one seemed to not even have life left in them. Only one pair of eyes have fire in them. Richak’s gaze met Ladrin’s one final time before the door closed with a deafening slam and the bolt was put back in place.