Within an inescapable abyss, Eleanor levitated. Her body was curled up, while her eyes were tightly shut. Only the faint sound of her rapidly beating heart was audible. The racing heart that condemned itself for the death of Eleanor's mother.
The silver flames that caused the incident. She hated those flames with all her heart, but they didn't seem to reciprocate. Instead, the warmth of the flames–although agonizing to others–was the only thing in which Eleanor found comfort.
'But I can't… they killed my mother.'
Despite being aware of that fact, a seed of doubt remained in Eleanor's heart. Were the silver flames truly evil? Although she hated them, they didn't hate her back. They embraced her… the way her mother never had.
'This is crazy…'
Her expression strained, while dark thoughts continued to plague her mind, attempting to shatter her resistance and allow the shadows… the abyss to embrace her. Flames were temporary… darkness was eternal.
