Daemon wanted to press her, but he held back. Perhaps what he could tell her of this place would allay some of them despite what she thought.
"This place uses magics unlike any we've ever seen. People are drawn here from numerous realms and times, from what I've seen. None have any recollection of how they came to be here. We all just wake up and the deed is done. There's never any memory of capture or journeying. Some believe the last thing they remember is dying, but none here are demon dead. Not exactly anyway." He left out mention of his father for the moment, since they were still uncertain what this place had made the High Lord, exactly.
"During daylight, the place seems normal enough. It poses as an Institute for those mentally disturbed. They tell us the memories we have are not real. Delusions. That we've lost touch with what is real and what is dream. They say we are here to heal. Some of us might have been inclined to believe them, had we not arrived with others that share our memories and knowledge. A fantasy made by one mind is one thing, but a fantasy shared by few or many is another matter entirely."
"Besides that, after darkness falls, everything changes. In the night, this place turns hostile. Creatures and monsters and enemies roam the hall, and it is the one time we are somewhat free to go where we will, although the danger and risk of doing so is high. The man running this place - people refer to him as the Head Doctor - taunts us with clues and traps, but there's often another voice that counters him and tries to help. Up to a few nights ago, it was a man by the name of Jack, but the Head Doctor discovered his whereabouts and is thought to have killed him. After his death, a young woman by the name of Jill took his place and seems to be continuing to try and help us, though the help is often vague and confusing."
He paused there, letting that much sink in, waiting to see if she had questions before continuing. There was more, of course, but even that much was overwhelming. He'd been here for a week already - though usually it felt much longer - and things were still overwhelming for him at times.
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"This place uses magics unlike any we've ever seen. People are drawn here from numerous realms and times, from what I've seen. None have any recollection of how they came to be here. We all just wake up and the deed is done. There's never any memory of capture or journeying. Some believe the last thing they remember is dying, but none here are demon dead. Not exactly anyway." He left out mention of his father for the moment, since they were still uncertain what this place had made the High Lord, exactly.
"During daylight, the place seems normal enough. It poses as an Institute for those mentally disturbed. They tell us the memories we have are not real. Delusions. That we've lost touch with what is real and what is dream. They say we are here to heal. Some of us might have been inclined to believe them, had we not arrived with others that share our memories and knowledge. A fantasy made by one mind is one thing, but a fantasy shared by few or many is another matter entirely."
"Besides that, after darkness falls, everything changes. In the night, this place turns hostile. Creatures and monsters and enemies roam the hall, and it is the one time we are somewhat free to go where we will, although the danger and risk of doing so is high. The man running this place - people refer to him as the Head Doctor - taunts us with clues and traps, but there's often another voice that counters him and tries to help. Up to a few nights ago, it was a man by the name of Jack, but the Head Doctor discovered his whereabouts and is thought to have killed him. After his death, a young woman by the name of Jill took his place and seems to be continuing to try and help us, though the help is often vague and confusing."
He paused there, letting that much sink in, waiting to see if she had questions before continuing. There was more, of course, but even that much was overwhelming. He'd been here for a week already - though usually it felt much longer - and things were still overwhelming for him at times.