Chapter 2: Chapter 1.1


Ink…ink clouded his eyes.
Motionless with his skinny feets parallel upon the stygian floors, the skin that cloaks the skeletal body of the uncle felt the absence of the bitter cold nor the heated blanket of the atmosphere - nothing. Whilst, the uncle's thin lips savor the flavor of the air - nothing - and ears attached to the sides of the oval-top of his perceive one music of the surrounding - nothing.
"Nothing" - the perfect definition here, except for the darkness that engulfed everything…and the faint whisper from afar.
"Wha-" the whisper conjures the thought within his mind, flaps of skin flickers as hazel orbs blink with confusion before returning to its widened Satellite-like state. The whisper has drawn his ears upon this pit of charcoal and with curiosity, the uncle begins to do the unfathomable - walks towards it.
The whispers begin to get clearer as the volume of the sound increases with the distance closing in. Footsteps were upon the darkened floor…again…again…and again as the uncle strolled forward. As the destination shortened, the sounds - no, the voice - began to sound…"pleasant" he thought.
The voice, sweet as the summer's zephyr; and pleasing only second to his passion, was euphonious. The voice was like a harp, played by the angels above with their fingers manipulating the strings - creating melodies that even air tremor - and yet contrasted with a ukulele… it was flat like the dead.
-Dawdle as he can, a "beacon" appears before him.
Shimmers like a star under the rug of night, threads of glossing silver reflected upon the hazel orbs of his - overpowering the glutton darkness as its shine bright - as it acts as the uncle sole guide within the pit of dull-obsidian.
Wide as a platter and shining with silver reflected upon it, the uncle's eyes widened with his skinny limbs burst towards it. Filaments of muscle tensed as part of his slim, lower limb's muscle went rigid; veins bulging as it slithers under his goldish skin; droplets of water form on his broad forehead's surface - the uncle can feel it and he could feel his spine doused in ice with every thread-like strand of his body beginning to stand.
With the uncle's limbs still pack with hope and curiosity, the voice began to soar as it grows louder as the distance shortened between the curious and the glimmering silver.
At this point, any man would begin to wear out because of the gravity weighing them down like carrying dumbbells on their feet, but that's not the case for the uncle as he can't feel the tugging of gravity upon his legs and pajamas - but somehow it still looks normal.
-And at this point, he could hear what it - no, she says
"I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him-" she repeated like a drill.
"What the hell?" he thought as his limbs began to tread towards the sound before coming to a complete stop as he's now standing in front of the beacon of silver. His mind drags his arm with caution drilling his mind as the skinny arm of the uncle begins to held five of his fingers towards the strands of silver.
"I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him-"
"...Hey… who ar-"
"Protect him", then the beacon is gone, along with his consciousness.