Fluttering catches your ears. You look up to the ceiling, and find a moth flapping it's wings in the empty space. "What have we here?" You muttered, extending a hand. The winged creature lands on the offered palm. Crawling to the center of it, and twitching it's antenna as it's eyes darted around.

Staring at the furry insect, you wondered how it came to be in this place. A room with no doors or windows. A place that has no beginning or end. Dull, listless eyes followed the creature as it crawled from your palm to your wrist. Absentmindedly, you turned the limb to keep the insect in sight.

You wondered how you came to be in this place. This place that was your sanctuary, "My.... haven." You muttered, your voice tinted with bitter resentment.

This is what you wished for.

Something in your head reminded you. There's always something to remind you! Reaching with your unoccupied hand, you gently gripped the creature and lifted it between your index finger and your thumb. "Here you are my friend," You mused to the small being, "I will give to you the peace in death that I could not have in life." With that your fingers closed, collapsing on the tiny thing; effectively ending it's existence.

Silence rang out for a few moments. Bringing your clenched fist closer to your face, you opened your hand.

Only to find nothing.

You stared at your empty palm. Tilting your head to the side, a wide grin split across your face. Your shoulder's shook as laughter rang in your chest and spilled past your chapped lips.

'How long has it been?' you wondered, leaning back in your chair. You glanced around the bleak void, searching, almost pleading, for a change in something. The laughter rang louder.

'This is what's become of you, old man.'

This was your hell.