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As he walked into the Prison, he felt a shiver go up his spine. The void was calling to him, pulling him under as an orchestra of voices echoed off the walls, sending goosebumps over his skin. One voice in particular, an angelic voice of pure ecstasy, summoned him down the path. His head flooded with the tune, the music, the voices. His body was a puppet, being pulled past doors, cells, walls of agony, all the way down, down, down into the depth of the Prison. The further he descended, the louder the voices screamed into his ears, his being. He felt the trickle of blood as it slipped out of his ears and from his nose. The taste of copper stung his tongue, but he didn’t spit it out. He couldn’t. He was hypnotized, a slave to the voices. His body paused in front of a black door, smeared with the markings of another world. His arm raised against his will, as if it was pulled to the door. Upon being pushed open, the voices burst out, racing back up the void he came from. And inside the room, was a women. She was breathless in her beauty, her hair floating around her head like a halo, her eyes reflecting her power. Her voice, moving, spelling his destruction. His entire being gravitated towards her, drawn in by her beauty. Her siren call wrapped around him, smothering him. It drew his hand to the chains wrapped around her, restricting her arms and legs, keeping her bound in this room. As the chains slid free, a wicked grin spread across her porcelain face as the voices crescendoed. Standing upon pail legs, she took his throat between her hand and squeezed.
“You have freed me, my dear. And now, I shall free you,” she whispered. His last breathe was ripped out of him, the voice of death pulling him into darkness.