Footsteps of heartache; echoes of madness.

'Once man tried to build a tower to the heaven's, but were confounded and punished for their insolence. This story can be expanded on, but it really doesn't need to be. The point is simple...to do anything truly great, sacrifices must be made. And so begins my own Babel. A tower to house my secrets, my skeletons, my truths. A place where my sacrifices will actually mean something. A place that will hold the door to peace.' These thoughts ran through Vayne's head as he ascended the staircase of a partially-built tower. Five months, three floors. He had worked tirelessly to produce such results, and he continued. The tower had no door, the only entrance came from a tunnel connected to the basement of a home that was also in progress.

Tap, tap, tap. With each step he took, his claws clacked against marble floors; alabaster walls echoing the noise.

Tap, tap, tap. Each step reminded him of how he got here.

Tap, tap, tap. The echoes sang of his pain.

Tap, tap, tap. Each step brought him closer to the end of the unfinished tower. The third floor was bare, and he could look out over partially built walls.

Tap, tap, tap. Every step he took...reminded him of how alone he was.

He stopped, inches from the third floor, and clenched his fists. 'If only my life, too, could end like these stairs. If only my breath was limited as this tower, and could not span into the heavens.' As the tears were about to burst forth, he heard other footsteps interrupt his echoes--Flay was coming to see why he was taking so long. This reminded him he wasn't entirely alone, and this comforted him, slightly. Despite this fleeting notion of hope, as he left the tower still stood with an oppressive lure. A strange, melancholy appeal that no stone alone could possess. Reaching up to the sky, begging to touch the sun in a hopeless endeavor, the tower waits for it's maker to return.

((Yes, this -will- be going somewhere. And I'll be posting the updates as I go on. As to the tower? Vayne is not from earth, but others are. To him, it's a story. A Fable. TTFN~))