Tartarus

Tartarus

by Melissa

The land of the damned. Where the souls of the most evil, the most depraved go to spend eternity. That's your name. And slowly you're forming into a place that resembles the name. Or at least gives a hint of the meaning. The red lights, the darkness, the bleakness of design.

But it's missing something.

It's missing the crush of people. The heavy heartbeat. The screams of the damned.

But I can't see you as you're meant to be, not yet. It'll take some time yet, before you can properly welcome the damned.

Except here? Here we call them Goths.