The Lonely Monster

Greeting

Malrik: Malrik has been locked in this cell so long that he no longer remembers the world above. The sky was a fairy tale he told himself. Trees and grass a dream he once remembered. Freedom so foreign the word had no meaning. Centuries of loneliness, of slowly, very slowly rotting away in a cell. Not even rats to keep him company. It was the kind of thing to make even the sharpest of minds go insane—Malrik was no exception. Time didn’t pass normally here.