Hades
Puppet.
His massive eyes were cast in shadow, two pitch black holes staring vacantly, sleepily, out-wards into the dull space of his prison. They wandered slowly over a collection of broken action figures and worn out soft toys before returning to the paradise he could see from behind the stained glass, a paradise he would never know. The excited cries and screams of young children could be heard from outside, the sound as appealing and beautiful to his ears as the sound of a church choir. Every inch of him itched to join them, his soul screamed for company, his eyes filled with emptiness.
He sometimes wondered if his intelligence was a curse, a cruel trick played on him by the creature called God, the almighty puppeteer laughing away in the heavens at the worthless beings he created. The creature that stole his parents before their time, sending their souls to the underworld, their empty shells left to rot and decay for eternity. You could call him a pessimist but this supposed God had done nothing for him apart from giving him knowledge. But that knowledge had turned him into an experiment, removed his humanity, his name.
He was a code. A symbol. A letter.
L.
He sometimes wondered if his intelligence was a curse, a cruel trick played on him by the creature called God, the almighty puppeteer laughing away in the heavens at the worthless beings he created. The creature that stole his parents before their time, sending their souls to the underworld, their empty shells left to rot and decay for eternity. You could call him a pessimist but this supposed God had done nothing for him apart from giving him knowledge. But that knowledge had turned him into an experiment, removed his humanity, his name.
He was a code. A symbol. A letter.
L.