WARNINGS: First Person P.O.V, Cannon Divergence, First Person, Fourth wall breaking, Mentions of Rape, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Suicide, Panic Attacks, Drug Mention, OCC(probably) and creative Freedom.

This story tends to take advantage of Cannon ambiguity.


If you thought of me as a prisoner, then you might expect me to live in a prison. My whole world should then be limited to the exact grey of a concrete wall, the smell of blood and other fluids, and the sound of silence which is only broken by my fractured sanity.

You might expect a prison to be dirtier – smaller – less lenient with a person like me. A person like me should be different.

Well I'm sorry if your expectations aren't met or if I'm a disappointment.

If I can't properly entertain guests then perhaps I don't deserve any.

Oh but do give me a chance; it's been a while since I've seen new faces.

Please, please sit down. As you can see my world doesn't span too far, in fact most days not so much as an inch outside of this room. But I have a lot of things – I could have anything I want here, or ten if I had to. One of every colour if I really wanted.

Anything I want – as long as I never leave Oval Tower.

What did I do to be put in a place like this?

It depends who you ask. Some might say nothing while others would say everything. All I really did was exist.

Some people are born with a god given right to be locked away their entire lives. That is where my story starts and where it ends. I was born right here in one of Oval Tower's labs. I was designed specifically for this life, meant to be a body preferably with an abandoned heart. An empty vessel for them to use. Soft and cooperative always.

And I have been. Always.

Always for one reason.

Because when I was born, gifted the god given right to be imprisoned for life, I wasn't born alone.

Everyone here at Oval Tower believes my twin brother is dead and for the longest time I believed it too. And during that time there was nothing – I was nothing.

But as I grew older I found I could feel it – another part of me off in a faraway place. I knew. I knew it was him, that he was alive, that I had a reason to stay here; so they would have no reason to go looking for him.

You must think I'm insane by now or that my heart is wrapped tight with an unhealthy brother complex. You might be right.

Oh but this story isn't about me; why would you want to hear something so dull, a person trapped in a tower year after year? Surely there are more interesting tales out there; things you and I can only dream of. I hope – for your sake more than my own, that there is something truly amazing waiting out there.

For me there's nothing else.

This is my world.

Beautiful, isn't it?