The last picture taken of his parents had a proud place front and centre on his mantelpiece. Many times he would stop by and look at the kind faces of the people taken away from the world much too soon.
He liked to believe they were proud of him. He had survived a literal hell on earth, after all.
Hell wasn't made of fire, but rather endless sheets of ice and wind.
Although he was all alone in his massive house, he never felt alone. His parents were always there, too. Still watching over their son. Still caring for him.