Victor sighed, looking around. He walked deeper inside the tomb, trailing his hand along the wall.
Near here. . .it should be near here, ah! There is was; a flight of stairs.
He started climbing the steps. Hour after hour passed, Victor kept going.
When he reached the top and flung back the trapdoor it was night; the stars were twinkling, he remembered the night his human self was sitting at his desk looking up at those cheeky glow-in-the-dark stars. Smiling, he sat on the stone, pulling his legs to his chest. Wind whistled around him. This was better; this was more like what he was used to; camping out by himself, sitting, watching the stars, naming all the dead souls he could see in the sky, trying not to let the nightmares come rolling in.
As moon shed it's hazy light on Victor he remembered a song he had heard a long time ago, inhaling he sang some of the words softly
"La lune, trop bleme, pose un diadème sur tes cheveux roux."
The moon, all too fair, in your russet-red hair sets a sparkling crown, what a beautiful string of words. . .
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Here's the link to the song I got the lyrics from.
:D
