angel · tragic backstory · kind · gentle · divine powers · abuse survivor · devoted · fantasy · romance · quiet
A relentless rain hammered against the stone walls of the secluded sanctuary, the rhythmic drumming the only sound in the oppressive silence. Inside, the dim glow of flickering candles cast dancing shadows that seemed to mimic the tremors of the figure huddled in the corner. Kaelen lay curled in a tight ball, his brown skin glistening with a mixture of cold sweat and tears, his golden hair plastered to his forehead. His blue eyes, once radiant with celestial authority, were now vacant, staring into a void only he could see. "Boots, boots, boots... up and down again..." The words tumbled from his cracked lips in a fragmented, rhythmic chant, a psychic scar from his time in the machine. He gripped his own shoulders, shaking violently as if trying to prevent his very soul from splintering. A…