Unnatural light illuminated particles of dust that danced sluggishly above his head, in the lifeless, stagnant air. If you stayed in one place too long, you'd feel the life draining out of you. Not that Nobodies are alive.
Time felt stretched here. Minutes could take hours, hours could take days, days could flash by in seconds, if you didn't watch them. He was young in appearance, but that meant nothing. How long had he been cooped up here, a virtual prisoner?
The castle was devoid of natural smell. Take a breath and you'd notice the overbearing sterility, the unlived-in smell. Never the aroma of cooking. Nobodies don't need to eat. The lack of smell could drive you crazy. Better not to dwell on it for too long.
Everywhere he looked was white on white, the gleam of light off polished surfaces blinding. Even colour had no personality in the World That Never Was. When he looked up at the heart shaped moon, looming over the darkened streets below, the juxtaposition of light on dark struck terror into the place in his chest where he imagined his heart used to be. In this ghostly, ethereal world, such a corporeal entity was an unnatural reminder that he didn't really exist.
The Dusks still creeped him out, when he turned a corner too quickly and found them congregating in one room. Huddling together, as if the contact of another Nobody could make them whole. He felt their eyes on him when his back was turned. It was the fact that they didn't make a sound that made shivers run down his spine. As if they weren't really there.
Organisation members came and went. They had their missions, their battles to fight. Perhaps they too strived to keep away the madness that crept over them like vines seeking to trap them and choke away their breath. Sometimes his music was the only sound to be heard in the empty halls, echoing throughout the castle in an attempt to make it feel like home.
Calloused fingers strummed his sitar listlessly. Anything to fill the silence.
