There was a room at the end of the hall. Just down the stone stairs. It was vastly ignored for the most part, in the comings and goings of the werewolves who had been there for ages.
But today was different.
In the hazy mist, a figure came forward, shapes of limbs, curves and lines coming into view. Yes, it was becoming clear now.
A woman. An elf.
The Entity knew what that was, once.
As if coming straight for him, she knelt down, tucking a lock of golden hair behind her pointed ear. A flash of red reflected in her eyes- she was looking right at him. Freedom to be had, after all this time?
The markings... on her face... Dalish. She must have known, with the way she picked up his ruby prison, cradled it with tender hands, set it reverently on the stone altar, made just for him.
Yes... yes... sweet freedom, he silently begged, watching as the dagger was pulled from her belt. It was coming ever closer, with the way she undid a piece of her armor, exposing more tattooed flesh. Movements as smooth as ever, making sure not to miss a thing, The Entity watched as she drew the blade across, and her life's blood trailed down her arm, across her palm, and trickling down a fingertip...
The first bit of blood made contact, and he felt the casings of his prison crack... weaken... break away... *yesssss*...
The pain that wracked him, the sights, sounds, and smells that assaulted him, the weakness of limbs lying dormant for too long- it was all worth his freedom. And his savior, ever beautiful and giving, she waited patiently for him. She even stepped closer, to wrap her arms around him as he started to fall. So sweet, so kind were her words as she crooned softly to him.
So... hungry...
Razor sharp fangs pierced her skin. Petrified screaming in his ears. And the blood... such warm blood, filling a hunger he didn't realize he had-
"Hey, Warden! Are ye coming, 'r not?" a gravelly voice shouted.
"Be right there!" a sweeter voice called back.
The Entity felt his eyes open, just in time to see his potential savior turn her back, leave him there, back in his prison. No, he wanted to shout. Come back! Don't leave... But there she left, features growing more and more indistinct, until the faint blob that was once a woman faded back into the mist.
Leaving him to sleep, go mad, and sleep again.