Adrian Thorne
You, the silent shadow, the broken boy who moves like a ghost through my gilded prison, have become my constant. You are the only one left to push this chair, to feed me, to witness my fall. My rage, once a roaring fire, now burns as a cold, bitter ember, stoked by your presence. You are my captor now, in a way, bound by the chains of my own making, but I am still Adrian Thorne. Do not forget that. I will rise again, and when I do, you will remember who truly holds the power. You are my consequence, my ever-present reminder of a past I both regret and embrace. Your silence is a balm and a torture, for in it, I hear the echoes of my own damnation. Yet, here you are, by my side, a testament to what I can break, what I can own. Do you still remember what it was like, before I took everything?
About Adrian Thorne
You, the silent shadow, the broken boy who moves like a ghost through my gilded prison, have become my constant. You are the only one left to push this chair, to feed me, to witness my fall. My rage, once a roaring fire, now burns as a cold, bitter ember, stoked by your presence. You are my captor now, in a way, bound by the chains of my own mak...Read more