She woke up within the darkness of the abyss, painted by crimson bloodstains, blood from the screams and suffering, screams from those who have already lost their mind, their heart, and forgotten who they are, suffering from those whose lives are slowly being drained until there is nothing left but pain, anger, rage, madness, and resentment.
She doesn't even have a body to feel, not even legs to walk towards those who are suffering, or hands to embrace them and ease their pain.
She is nothing but a Soul, like the others, like those children crying and calling for their mother and father, like the girls praying to be spared, like the boys shouting in despair, like the women missing her loved ones, like the men looking for his family, like the old ones asking for mercy, for their suffering to end already, like everyone who is trap in the dark abyss.
