Limitless fog was present, with a seemingly endless capacity. Substance that radiated a terrible stench, causing chills to anyone who came into contact with it.

Impregnated as if it were homogeneous with reality, it extended into the four horizons; extinguishing every light candle, ending all hope.

"Confusing, confusing." Low murmurs could be heard, bringing a particular poise; the voice of the demon, the howl of the ghost.

"Crazy, crazy." Dry and discordant voices, containing a thirst that transcended beyond water and the good Samaritan.

Countless creatures of different characteristics were arrayed beyond the mist. Unlimited beings in indescribable emotions, who occupied a limited space; The friction was perpetual and scratchy, hurting its strange shapes beyond its chronic rot.

Different stenches and murmurs came from such that slowly and progressively, they transformed into a terrifying barrage that would move the most chaste heart to endless madness, invading all its pores like evil vapor.

In the sea of corpses, the decomposed beings lamented their own existence with pride because of their ignorance.

Up them, eight imposing pillars were built; Different from the space that surrounded them, they were shiny, built with care and finery. In each one a different creature was carved, where malevolent intentions were hidden deeply, keeping forbidden desires sealed.

"Whore, whore." It was heard, carrying the desire of the lifeless hearts of countless.

The voice, distorted and divided into seventy-six different tones, belonged to one of the condemned. With the body destroyed and in full decomposition, dancing worms simulated light hair; who occasionally broke away and fled through the individual's hollow eyes.

In his constant routine of his eternal life, a change had occurred!

He had to rigorously extend his arms to help a body continue on its way. That simple action had provoked his dead emotion with sensuality; a vestige of life.

It was a being different from the endless ones. With fair skin and defined features, he surfed the endless waves of the sea of the dead.

With the holes sealed, no external energy could contaminate its neat image.

Without signs of life or consciousness, his direction was the pillars that stood supreme.

There was no one to guide him, because the feeling of death transcended beyond the divine. Condemned to slow posterity, to be deprived of his will.

There lay a room of considerable space, minimalist in its splendor; lightly furnished, with most of the space unoccupied. With indispensable objects positioned on furniture of artisanal mastery, while it was adorned with fragrant plants on pure white plateaus.

In the center, being the object with the largest space, was a king size bed. Object that broke with such a harmonious image.

And despite its large size, there was an individual in this one who practically used its entire length capacity, maximizing its use.

This one was in the purest state of his wild humanity: in complete nakedness, neat and holy; exposing her purity to prying eyes, since she only used transparent and smooth white sheets.

A purely masculine purity, since he had a sculpted body with decent muscles despite his great height. Of such magnitude that even in their lowest state, without any pumping, they looked majestic.

Such characteristics, together with his careless image, built a magnetic and masculine sensuality.

Until the first sunbeam of dawn, he finally opened his eyes. Immediately eliminating all careless sense, awakening incomparable nobility and uncommon poise.

A rare sight, as were his eyes; These being the door to the soul in fables and stories, different virtues swirled in them in a harmonious composition; shining in justice, fierceness, benevolence... But also in indifference, arranged in equal proportions that gave an incorrect feeling.

But even in those electric blue eyes there were slight signs of apathy, which sought to devour and destroy.

Finally awake, he prepared himself for the time and the day. His first action of the day was to look for something to cover his nakedness. Wearing loose, simple, comfortable clothing for his first-time chores.

Taking clothes, he began to look for a small book that was hidden in one of his furniture. It was a small diary, which I used every day.

He had the habit of recording his dreams, with the intention of reliving them at some point. They were facts that marked his personality, helping him decide on issues of different kinds.

"Today I have finally been able to rest; with my eyes closed, the black only occupies my desolate mind; acting as rain and stream to my disconsolate exhausted mind. Only for that fact can it be considered a fruitful day... The joy before the storm "Like the toast of the Great One."

His eyes were clear, with a pen resting in his right hand. He maintained a slight frown.

"I am confused and cannot reason. Like free leeches, my mind is invaded... And we are not in the 18th century. I have tried to search for the panacea, the concoction of ancient records... But if I do not seek immortality, and I only ask for a break, why doesn't God allow me?!"

It was at that point that he took a deep breath of fresh air, trying to calm his jumping and inconsiderate nerves.

"Does the universal gospel really have any real purpose? My insides scream like a torn creature, with an empyrean spirit of a butcher. My soul... soul? damn scavengers! My death could happen any day... But no! "I will allow them to take over that glimpse of freedom that belongs to me!"

Thus, the man massaged his hair with a lost look, with doubts and without clear conviction.

"I have insulted their names, their mothers... I have even promised to fuck their obese mothers, but."

It was at that given moment, that the pen belonging to the man began to fail. Losing ink at random, without following the orders of your management. It finally exploded!

But his old lame look had been reborn. With incredible aplomb, he had decided...

But that was later, first he had to leave his room, looking to go to his bathroom. Where he performed his daily needs, washing his face.

In the mirror he was greeted with a face of extreme beauty, like a fallen angel capable of seducing devils. With perfect proportions, a thin nose, strong cheekbones, square jaw and hollow cheeks. Ironic, since it was his usual face.

But this was not a usual day for him, starting with his key decision. That day he decided to skip his daily morning shower, since he wanted to leave without dignity; I didn't deserve that little bit of possible dignity!

With a straight posture and few movements, he left the bathroom, heading down the stairs. Despite his modest life, his net worth was not at all common. His home, a two-story mansion, was considered just one of his belongings.

Delicately touching the fine wood from which his staircase was built, he absorbed the cold sensation with closeness. Finally, he headed straight to his living room.

Where by chance of fate, he observed through the peephole of his vision his familiar and beloved housewife, Mrs. Klent, who was an experienced elderly lady. She received him with the biggest smile.

"Good morning, sir. One more day with your morning presence is another day for me." Mrs. Klent said with charisma.

This did not faze him, because although they were extremely familiar, these were the codes and manners with which Mrs. Klent was raised to serve high society.

"Mrs. Klent, it's nice to see you one more day. But, yesterday I told you that your presence was not necessary today... Do you have any problems?" He asked with respect and slight concern.

"Of course not, Mr. Frederick. I just considered that I'm actually needed here since you're usually busy." Mrs. Klent said, making her point clearly.

In fact, she was not the only one in charge of her home, but the day before she had released all of them from their obligations without exception. Here, an older lady was the only one who really cared.

"In fact, you are right. I appreciated your efforts, but today is not a usual day. I earnestly ask you to take a day of rest. I will not be here today. Your cleaning yesterday is more than enough." The one recognized as Frederick said, rhetorically pointing to the proposal of his closest servant.

"Sir... Although it is my regret, I must abide by your words. I have left your breakfast on the kitchen table. For now, I say goodbye." Mrs. Klent expressed with some suspicion, but submissively complying.

Following this, Frederick waited patiently for Mrs. Klent to take her belongings and leave his property, in a motionless and reflective state.

"Actually, today is a busy day..." He said on air with no apparent audience.

He watched as his breakfast steamed and gave off an appetizing smell. But only for a moment, with no intention of consuming it, as it ignored it and passed by.

An indifferent and unwanted act, but today, I would need to have an empty stomach. He even mentally joked about whether he would vomit with a certain reluctance in his eyes.

Leaving the kitchen, he began to head towards the door to his basement. But for such an action it was necessary to face a long journey to its destination.

His walk was slow, observing the vestiges of his pastimes.

His house even included a room dedicated exclusively to his hobby of the art of painting. Occupied by various oil paintings that showed different scenarios and expressed different emotions. From sadness to ecstasy, the thoughtful sage and the hero's victory over the dragon.

Occasionally he stopped to carefully observe and touch different sculptures that were arranged around his home with the delicacy of a lover.

But the position of his favorite place was held by his personal library without a doubt. In it he kept books of his interest, which varied in subject matter.

There were encyclopedias, dictionaries and novels. Books from history to mythology, others that addressed military strategies or philosophical axes; even about apothecary! Indeed, it was a large collection that differed in its unique diversity.

Being that there were even some entertainment novels that took up the least space in comparison.

Enjoying the smell of books for the last time, he observed his well-kept and harmonious patio; He had a great love for plants; He liked to raise them, learn and do it.

But finally he reached the door that led to the underground... As if he were destined to play a role in a horror movie, the cold predominated his surroundings.

Through slight cracks, a strange light mist was released, sinking ankle-deep into an unknow state.

He had the money to fix it, but not the way...

With a deep breath, his hand touched the doorknob, but immediately shook a little. But decisively, he calmed his emotions, drowning out fears; Finally he opened the door completely. So, he slowly walked down the stairs.