There is a place beyond the realm of touch and beneath the threshold of believability. A home whose wood is darker than night and room lead into unending labyrinth's. Deep down past whispers of fairness, morality, the righteous and the wicked. Inside room 204 is a quiet being beneath a sheet whose dye was made in bone and cloth has been worn. Beneath lay shadows and inevitability long met before it's final resting. Sarni and the black childs whom play in the solace of a never waking nightmare beneath the place that is their home. A place where lost memories come when they have no master. A place where a puppet has no strings and whose smiles echo the madness eternally.