FicWad

The air that filled the room was cold. It matched how it’s occupant acted. Cold, emotionless, heartless. Some would even say dead inside. Dead and empty.
Emptiness. An aspect that can lead to death. One of ten.
Tears. Not of sadness. Nor of happiness. Green and permanent, these were the tears of a man who was without emotions.
Eyes. Green with pupils like a cat. Staring into the soul of anyone their gaze fell upon.
Soul. A very apt expression. For that is what he, himself, was. If any of us were to look upon him, we would not see him. However, the term ‘soul’ implies that this man has feelings. His demeanour denies this notion completely.
A mask. Cracked. Once hiding his identity. This man had no reason to hide anymore. There was no need. Why would one need to hide from allies? There was, however, something he did hide. But this was not a think that could be hidden by a mask.
A hole. In his chest. Not quite where his heart would be, but close enough to assume that this symbolised that he was without one. A heart that is. He was heartless.
A long coat. White. Clean. Simple. Simplicity is the essence of emptiness. It suited him.
Striding towards the window inside the room, his expression didn’t change.
Outside the window, the moon was set into a permanent crescent. Never before had this form changed. Never had this endless night faltered.
Below this chocking, suffocating, blackness a desert expanded. Pale, ghostly and white. The desert was devoid of life. Trees, or rather objects that appeared to be such, were occasionally seen, breaking away from the empty landscape. Empty. Just like this man.
Parting his thin, black, lips he entered into a low sigh.
Scanning the desert below him, his vision caught sight of three figures. They were a great distance away. They appeared to me mere specs in the distance.
It was them. He was sure of it.