As the heavy doors swung inwards, an odor of decomposition permeated the atmosphere. For the first time in centuries, new untainted air rushed into the chamber dispelling the stench which had lain dormant within. Dust suddenly sprang to life from its long resting place, cobwebs lain by spiders which had suffocated blew softly from the mild breeze. The room was littered with small carcasses of the insects which had expired from lack of renewed air. A small skeleton or two occasionally littered the floor threatening to crumble at even the slightest disturbance. As the curtain of particles began to settle down, a beam of light penetrated into the room, illuminating the far wall at the back. The wall had not seen light in ages, but remembering its task, it began revealing the secrets which had been inscribed upon it long ago. The pictures told the tales of a man of power gone mad. A man who had caused much suffering due to his madness. A man who was assassinated because of this madness by one he loved. For love in itself is often guided by madness. The tale was a sad one, and left no moral, no lesson, for there was nothing to be learned from the story.

In the center of the chamber, on top of a slab of exquisitely carved marble, lay a coffin in the shape of a man. The alter and coffin were clean, smooth, and bore no signs of having remained unmoving for centuries. Even the dust itself was loath to rest its back upon the surfaces of the items. They were beautiful, alluring, enticing, however maybe too much so. The man who approached the resting place of the dead did not realize the influence which was being exercised upon him. He did not notice the particles of dust reaching up and screaming for him to cease his approach with every step he took. He did not perceive the long dead spirits of the deceased’s servants imploring him to turn back. The man was so completely withdrawn into his walking, that his mind seemed to have wandered off into some small cavity of existence which only he could ever know about. And as he drew back the cover of the coffin, as a weathered decrepit appendage seized his wrist momentarily, a feeling of contentment overcame him as his soul was violently ripped away from his body. Suddenly everything the man had ever pondered upon made sense. Suddenly he was free of the bonds of his flesh. Suddenly he had joined the world of the spirits, but this fact did not bother him as much as it would have in life. And as he watched his body erupt in a blood-curling cry of victory, the man knew pity for the monster which was incapable of attaining the serene existence of the afterlife.