I watched him as he leant against the wall, arms outstretched and the muscles tensing in his toned back. His head was bowed and his dark hair hung over his face. Moving forward, he rested his forehead against the cracked plaster and ran one palm over the wall, as if caressing skin and I was hypnotised by the slow movement of his hand and the tattoo of the black dragon, almost writhing on his back as he inhaled and exhaled deeply. "I can't hear them," he said and I could hear the frustration and pain in his voice. Walking over to his side, I placed both my hands on the wall and pressed my ear against it, closing my eyes and hearing the whispers immediately, still enslaved by their agony and suffering but this time there was something else fuelling their cries, something that made me smile t
