Well, this is a closure/extra piece to the Curse of the Virgin Canvas story. Enjoy.

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My eyes open wide as I wake, sweating and panting. Some say that dreams have deeper meaning than what we perceive as random thought; That they are cries from our subconscious. I feel strangely compelled to recount this one to my love; My darling Annabel. Shaking her gently, I wonder why her flesh has the chill of a virgin snow. My thoughts are disrupted as reality hits me like a bolt of lightning and I let out a scream that pierces the night.

As I lay there in tears aside my beloved, deceased Annabel, I recount on the dream that had awoken me.
My Annabel was surrounded by a ring of perpetual fire. She is imprisoned beneath the world where the soulless dwell.
A place that the damned call home.
A place where even the virtuous hide in fear.
A place we see only in our nightmares.
A place where the sun is silent.

Goodnight, my dearest Annabel.

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Later,
-Kumo