Leaves scatter as the wind gentaly pushes them aside. The grass ripples in tune with the cold, dead chours of the wind and stars. Darkness creeps up on a crouched lone figure, cutting it off from the world. With the moon being slowly suffacated by meanicing, unforgiveing, clouds the darkness surrounds the figure, shutting out the world. "Lupas, come to me my boy, my son" it wisperd. "No" the figure said back "I am no son of yours." "Yes, Lupas Tortura Soitarius" it replyed "I know you better than you even know yourself. You are a Lone Wolf of Torture, born from darkness.. Come to me my son" "No... No you will never take me..." The darkness closes in on the figure, its pery, locking out the world, draining all hope and life away. The wisper of the wind turns into a roar, the moon gets sucked into nothing; the darkness has awakend. Inch by inch, foot by foot, it gains on the one figure, closeing in on all sides. Shoveing out the world. Pushing all life away... Hopeless, it countenus to come at the figure. With paws out steached it springs at the figure bound to consum it, to break it. Before the darkness wins the figure stands up "No one knows me.. YOU WONT TAKE ME!" screams the doomed dead man as he lunges into the darkness. Hopeless, the darkness wins, shoveing the world away. Locking everything inside never to be seen again. Worthless.. The light of the world is forever lost in darkness... Alone... Forever locking the lonely figure within himself.. HOPLESS