Void.

Void.

Drape in black, mark as a lone creature, immune to the frailties of feelings. Deception and masquerades of niceties, mold a red door that will be painted with shades of black. The plague strikes those unfortunate to not caring the brand of betrayal. There is a sort of sickness that has recently infected the souls of past, and even though time has made walls resurrect . They are not thick enough to keep these destroyers of the old away, let alone conceal their vile actions and ability to transcend through the valley of shadows. There lies a chapel in the midst of the dead, there you will hear bells tolling marking the finite sentencing of one's faith.  A void of lost screams, tears, and pain now a mere portal to deposit what is left of a shell.