She was a prisoner in her room. Her husband had recently died and the mysterious voices in her head had driven her to the distracted state in which she persisted.
A piece of paper and a pen rested on the table, a note to a deceased soldier; she had provided him with his heart, the only real thing of value she had left to give. Her words were emotional and she ended the note with two words.
They were "I love you."
The letter sealed and she opened the window and looked out upon the unusual cityscape, the large headquarters of the Council of Eras at her back, the only structure with a single occupant. But now she gasped for looking out of the window she saw her husband, alive and well, standing on the front lawn.
She quickly threw open the window and called for him, but as soon as he looked up she saw that he was not her husband. It was some ominous imposter. He looked at her sadly and spoke in a booming voice,
"He cannot be your husband again, he has left this place."
She clutched the window frame, paralyzed by fear.
"Where is he?" she asked, tears welling.
"Come with me," the voice boomed and it's volume was growing.
She backed away and stumbled, falling against a cupboard.
The door swung open and she stared inside. A figure stepped out and she knew it was not of this world. Its face a caricature of the human, sharp eyes and a rounded nose, she saw a face like no other, a face that made her shiver with fear.
It was death.
"Let me help you up," he projected, extending his hand towards her. A red light emanated from from his body and surrounded her, suffusing her with a warmth that energized her.
She felt strong.
"I do not wish to go with you," she said, her voice trailing off as her eyes fell upon the image in the cupboard.
"I can take you to him," the face replied, "or I can take you to your home."
The lady eyed him and tested her new found strength.
She leapt towards the cupboard, panting as she tried to wrench it off it's hinges.
"Please get out!" she pleaded, tears streaming down her face. But her strength was vanishing now and she cried tears of anger, thrashing her fists against the wood.
Young men entered the room and heard the noise.
Death watched their approach, the image of a woman pleading with the cupboard spread wide before him. He stepped away from the window and moved past the specters.
They passed through him as he did so and turned to follow him out the room, back down the hall.
But one turned and looked back upon the figure in the cupboard, and was frozen by it's gaze. He looked around, thoughts racing through his mind, unable to deduce how he could look down the hallway and be looking at the same thing at the same time.
"What's going on?" he asked an older specter.
"That figure in the cupboard," he replied, "It is an image only that is projected into your mind and interpreted as an object. You see this image because it is your vision of a dead man. This is why you have lived in this building for so long, this is your home."
The specter fell silent and turned away from the image, watching his colleagues descend the stairs. They turned to follow him out.
The young man stood looking at the image of a beautiful woman before closing the door, and collapsing in tears.
Again, the figure in the cupboard knew he was being watched and it's eyes flashed red. It stepped out of the cupboard and approached the young man, placing a hand on his head.
"There is nothing you can do for her," said the figure.
The young man turned to him, his eyes red with tears.