In the dark ages, a great calamity had taken place in a town that strove to become a breeding ground of blackened violence. It was plagued by a carpet of darkness, a sea of famined people with disgusted, pussed bodies on the verge of eating themselves. Death was at every corner of the town.
A lone survivor, a man of twenty-five, hair as long as his face, ran through the town scorched by an ocean of darkness. He hovered over it as his face was filled with permanent fear. He ran as fast as he could with a broken arm, crying out tears of black. His face was hidden by a black scar, his eyes exposed and bloodshot.
Running for his life he came face to face with a wall at the other side of a lake. It was once blue, but now it was a bubbling stream of tar. At a dead end, he panted heavily, trying to regain his breath. His legs gave way and he fell to his knees, giving up on the meaningless efforts of escape. He laughed, his sanity now broken, welcoming death with open arms as it came towards him.
From behind him a black misty cloud approached, but that didn’t stop his relentless laughing. The cloud consumed everything in darkness with its shadowy smoke trails of death. He laughed his mind out, breaking every inch of his sanity into a trillion pieces. Slamming his head onto the ground, he knew how pathetic he was at that moment.
Repeatedly, he slammed his head on the ground like the broken fool he’d become, laughing like a maniac and yelling out his misery. He stopped his stupidity, as well as his broken laughter, and a broken grin spread across his face instead. Raising his head off the ground, blood poured out from his gaping self-inflicted wound as he rose to his feet.
The man turned round to confront the entity who had caused this plague of darkness, not only over his town, but also over the entire world. He lowered his arms and relaxed himself. Blood dripped from his wound and went down his face, covering his eyes. He was about to come face to face with the very thing that had brought forth the world’s destruction.
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The cloud of smoke came to a stop. He frowned when arms of wretched white came out of the darkness, welcoming him for an embraced reunion. He cried now, crying because of his regretful sorrow. Feeling the guiltiest of them all, he reaches for the snow white arms hanging there and patiently waiting for his welcoming. He grabbed the white hands and it turned into a dark purple from his warm touch. Their fingers intertwined, then those wretched arms wrapped around him, welcoming him back to its life to embrace his love, his warmth. He could feel it’s cold saddened aura emitting off its arms wrapped around his broken bruised warm body.
“Sorry!” it said over and over again with a gentle and sad voice.
As the embodiment of darkness drifted around them, twirling like a tornado of blackened purple beauty, out came a woman who wore a romantic styled black mourning dress. Her smoky face covered in a hatted hood crept close to his ear, then whispered, “The love of her empty, lonely, sorry life.”
But she didn’t realize he was about to end her meaningful words of love, their reunion, and his own pathetic, manipulative life. Bringing out a dagger of holy stone that was tucked behind his pants, he extended it and then… total darkness.
“There are those who were blessed the day they were born, living life without remorse, being guided by the path taught to them. But sadly, some aren’t so lucky. These poor souls are cursed the moment they inhale their first breath,” she breathed deeply, softly, then let out a sorrowful sigh. “What would you do, if you were one of those tainted souls? You’d probably have to sacrifice everything that you believed in… in order to save your selfishness, or perhaps save someone out of the kindness of your heart. That kindness can sadly bring your life to misery, curse your views, and live with remorse! Was it really worth saving that life? Even if that life were your own flesh and blood?!”
She clenched her hands out from her inner frustrations.
“Some would have done what I’ve done… but in the end… I paid for those consequences. I may have been a failure, but I promise to protect the one who was chosen to suffer. Even if it means… that more will suffer and succumb to darkness, and eventually meet their demise…”
The sky above was unholy blue, and the sound of wind whistled profusely into the dreaded woods of rotting chard trees. Rose petals flew past an abandoned church, showing signs of old age and decay. A woman in a romantic red gothic dress stood in the middle of the church as exposed sunlight came through a broken ceiling, shedding light inside the empty void.
As she stood in the spotlight, staring at a locked room with her hands collapsed and her head down, she dripped tears of bloodied red and left trails along her pale cheeks. She looked up into the sunlight and opened her arms as she continued to bask in her everlasting sorrow.