Short one-shot about 6th House from one of Dagoth Ur's servants. Monologue about life in one of 6th House bases. How hard and pointless is living without goal and memories about previous life, just with flashbacks of memories from others.

"What isn't remembered never happened"

Bells. One strike. Sound. Low. Silence again. Funny, because it's tingling. Silence can ring? Yes, it can. It's accumulating. Crushing. Or it's only my imagination? Strike again. Why they're worrying? They will never proceed Tone. Pure Tone. It's jingling in us. Jingling? So why there's silence? Nothing is whispering. Voices doesn't say anything. They become silent. They are always whispering. Calling. Shouting in order to murmuring a second later.

Priest say that "We must wait for the Sleeper. When Sleeper awakes he will banish outlanders from Morrowind. And us – his servants will be granted to stay at his side, with all his glory."

Wait? How long? Short? Long? That's too long. Every second last like forever. Long time. Far too long. Similar halls. Shape from the tower of furniture. Why bother? Arranging. Everything's wrong. Something doesn't match. Candles. Red. Light from these candles look like blood. Smudges of blood. At the walls. At the floor. Blood. Everywhere. I didn't eat for so long.

Long? But we killed. Yesterday. Five people. They were fighting. Hurting. Burning. But not killing. They were killed. Not us. One of them was mutilated. He was shouting. But I think it's normal. Chills of fear were in the air. Not ours. We aren't afraid. But them. They were so panicked. They doesn't know what to do. One of them just curl up from his fear. They crushed his skull. Rest of them try to run. Body fried with lightning look funny. It's getting coal color and light smudge of smoke. What happened to the rest? I can't tell. I was lacerating fresh, blooded body in order to forestalling rest of us in this unexpected feast.

Time? Abstraction. It doesn't exist. Not here. In these halls hollowed in stone, lighten by red candles, soaked by dissolving bodies idea of time doesn't exist. No one is interested by this. We are looking for memories. Our memories. Before this dismal existence we've been someone. Every one of us. We had own life. From time to time I see pictures. They're blurred. Like from some kind of a dream. Little girl hugged by her parents. Not mine. Some man talking with old woman in beautiful room. Not mine. Starlit sky above the Ashlands. Not mine too. Pictures which belonged to others but shared with everybody. I look at them from one side. I don't take participate in them. Just stare. Flashbacks. Too short to look closer. Fragments of time. A snatch from someone's life. Not mine. Who I was? I can't tell. I don't know? No, it's not like that. So many images. One of them is mine. But I don't remember which. Kid? Male? Constellation?

I want to howl. From longing? Rather from pain. Perhaps from longing. But after what? I don't remember how life look. Sun, sky, stars. People. People, not deformed monsters. I don't remember if I have any family. Therefore no. Not from longing. Still, you can't long for something you doesn't remember. Right?

Author's Note's

Story written from pure boredom. I was trying my best to not make many mistakes. For any of them – very sorry. Also, If you are interested in story about Kouji x Miaka pairing, try and look for my other story named "You?"

Domo arigatou gozaimasu!