Nightmare sat comfortably on his throne, a glass of wine swirling in hand. The room was dimly lit, only a chandelier flickering overhead. He was surrounded by piles of books, phalanges flipping idly through old parchment. Most of them were psychological textbooks, and some covered ancient tortute methods.

The air around him felt heavy, dark. The sound of dripping water echoed through the quiet room, the source of which unknown. Despite his calm demeanor, the God of Negativity was tense, a lack of fulfillment churning in his SOUL.

It was time for him to deploy. To command his boys, or perhaps even acquire a new toy.