Devoid

Lo and behold, the cat emerged from the closet; never saw it coming, akin to the myriad times the wraith paid his respects in my chamber, my alcove and ensnaring prison, startling me. Long I stood there before I took account of my surroundings, all shrouded in darkness like covered in a mystifying veil; silence reverberated through the room, only the murmur of faraway nightlife hindered it from a full-fledged state, permeating dimly by means of the lilliputian window above, left ajar deliberately to maintain awareness, let alone consciousness as my air supply started to dwindle.

A stagnant stench everbearing by means of bloodstained carcasses made implausible, albeit necessary to inhale, if there was a dwelling close to Tartarus on Earth, it has to be this apartment, my own personal hell and playground, thwarted only by my sentinel and blooming executioner. It has been 1 month since I was locked up here, sagacious as I am, no preemptive action could have prevent him from ostracize me.

Three o'clock in the morning... the feline gave me the heads-up of his inexorably wretched coming, his corpulent and repugnant physique matched only by his twisted and grotesque physiognomy, the hint of heavy footsteps only outweighed by his abohorrent countenance, scarred throghout, heralded his presence, his grimace corroded by the very same feeling of hatred that all of his cohorts depicted, as if possessed by some uncanny force, arcane in nature; my sentinel, always wielding a gargantuan machete, cumbersome for a mere human, but featherlight for his anomalous muscle; crash opened the door...