They came to him in their time of need, they came and he would offer what they needed. They came and took a bit of him every time they left, but he would never turn anyone down. He stood as a passerby in the hall of the broken, he offered comfort in the rarest of places. He entered this hall knowing of the repercussion, he stayed optimistic against the odds, and he would find comfort in the solitude of others. He stood in the darkest part of the hall, he would give them all the time they needed regardless of his own affairs, he was always there. He stood there as a statue to never move and no one would pay him any mind, they simply took what they needed and were gone. Day in and day out he bore the pain of them ripping away the deepest part of his conscious, they tore his innards as a starved hyena into the corpse of a gazelle. He pushed through it all, the hall grew darker, his conscious weaker until they came back to him, until one of those previous hyenas came back, they came wanting to take him away from the hall, but they came to late. They tried everything to wake him, they slapped him, they dragged him but he was motionless, not just physically but emotionally, he was no longer, he was hollow. They stripped him from his own humanity slowly at times and significantly at others, but he never thought he would reach this state. He was hollow but there was a reminisce of himself at the bottom of this hollow container, it screamed but no one heard it. The hall use to be the container of those that were broken but his body was now the vessel for the stolen. This hollow container was what was left of his humanity that was ripped away from him carelessly as they continued through the hall.