The sky was dark. The ground was blackness. The atmosphere was grim. The silence almost seemed to whisper, since that would keep a man more sane than the quiet of the noir forest. He eventually came to a clearing. A figure was in the centre of it, cradling the silhouette of some kind of deformed fetus - it looked to be some abomination mixed between an animal and human, with the legs of a goat and the top half of a baby. Strange tendrils emerged from the infant's hips, wrapping around the figure cradling it. The one holding the child was cloaked in darkness. They were featureless, but the blackness of the entire area seemed to weave around it. No... It radiated off of it in unholy waves of shadow. It was singing a quiet lullaby to the baby despite its crying. Just hearing the lullaby contrasting with the near-silence of the forest plagued Desmond's mind with madness and intangibility.