I was laying on the warm ground of the forest, questioning why the forest ground would be so warm, I tried to open my eyes and look around. It was night out with trees swaying violently in the cold wind. Again I asked myself as I shook my head, why would it be so warm?
The answer soon came to me in the form of another sensation. Wetness on my back seeping into my cloths under my pathetic excuse for iron armor. I was bleeding to death, from the arrows of that battle god knows how long ago.
I could barely see a few feet in front of me, darkness swept over the forest like a blanket, the moon faded like a dimming light, the forest maintained quietness with the exception of an occasional breeze. In this area void of most sounds I realized something very important, very quickly.
Death was approaching me. No, not some metaphor that I was about to die, literally death was walking towards me as I lay on my back holding the wound on my left side. How the fuck did I know it was death? Well look at this shit.
NPC Death, Level ???
Death's footsteps made no sounds, Death didn't breath, and Death didn't stop walking towards me at his casual stroll like this was some amusement park.
"Well well well, lookie here!" Opening his arms like some prick hosting a carnival.
"That's not very nice!" Did he just read my fucking thoughts?
"Ayyyyuup, bingo, jackpot, you win the prize!"
*coughing up blood* "What might that prize be mr carnival prick?"
"Absolutely nothing, I've come here to claim your soul if the big tittle wasn't obvious enough, then again I did have to spell it out for a few people before, would you like me to do that? Little birdies tell me that using your scythe to spell it out on their skin gets the "point" across pretty fast!" Death was tapping on the end of his scythe with his elongated bony finger, if his face wasn't cloaked I'd be positive he was laughing."
"Ahahaha! A comedian and a carnival host? I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not dead yet, and I got a feeling your scrawny ass can't force the passing moments of someone, or else I wouldn't be talking right now would I?"
"Ahh.. It seems you are a little more intelligent than the usual trash dying in a forest."
"Even though I can't force those last moments, I can however -" He vanished, so quickly it was as if I blinked, Death was hovering in front of my face, his cold breath moving down my spine, his empty eyes looking for my soul.
"Watch you die like the dog you are."
Death didn't move a single inch and stood directly in front of me, face to face as he bent his knees in a crouching position.
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"Well go on little doggy! What are you going to do?" He shooed me away in some random direction just like you would some wild dog.
Having courage despite the fact I'm fucking dying, I wanted to spite this asshole, gathering up some of the last breaths I could take, I spit right in his fucking face, blood red saliva driping down his cold white skull leaving stains behind. The scariest part of doing that. was he didn't react, death didn't move, didn't say anything, only kept staring into my eyes.
Like hell I'm going to die in front of this prick. The floor moved before me as I gathered all my strength to pull myself forward, anywhere but here, it didn't work though. Death's gaze never left, he was walking along me as I crawled, staring at me.
After crawling for a bit, I realized I felt heavier, not just because the fact death's door is waiting, but a bit of weight on my right foot. The foot was twisted and broken in several spots, but worst of all an arrow was pierced through it attached to that fucking goblin I killed.
This little asshole was going to make it harder to move, shaking my foot loose as pain burst up my leg, I managed a little progress.
I decided I'd try to use my ability, that one that kicked, to try to shake the dangling green body from me. My right foot lit up like christmas, the forest finally revealed in the light. Sights of goblin blood, a few limbs, and even a head was littered on the floor.
Disgust filled me at the memory of what I did to survive, but I had to.. I don't want to die damn it. Pondering over such useless thoughts won't get me anywhere, this kick thing just might. After the glow on my foot faded, I inspected the result of it, which was very good. The arrow broke ever so slight at the base of it implanted in my foot, did I mention the pain was un fucking believable?
I had to do it again though, I can't even crawl like this. Again I used the ability, again I saw the forest floor painted with death. This time though, the arrow broke leaving splinters in what could only be described as my dismantled bloody foot.
The trees moved closer as I once again dragged my body across with my dangly arms. During all of this, death didn't stop looking at me, inspecting me, staring at me, unmoving except when I did, it was an extremely unpleasant and ominous feeling.
After roughly 5 full drags of my entire body, my arms gave out. I couldn't move any further, even if I could, what would be the fucking point? Where could I go like this? Nowhere.. I needed a new option, or maybe I should just give up.
In that very moment of thinking that, deaths splattered red and white skull turned into a smile.
"Fuck you" I groaned out.
The potions! The thought of the potions finally came to me, I knew they were cracked open, but surely enough of whatever that fucking liquid is, seeped into my backpack, I'll eat the entire thing if I have to.
I lifted my arms behind me and ever so slowly managed to get the backpack off of me, I tried to rip a piece off but didn't manage with my strength. Fuck it.
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Point of View Change(Rosie to Death)
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I honestly couldn't believe what my cold undead eyes were seeing, this maggot that was supposed to be dead 3 minutes ago by my guess, was laying in the cold forest ground, eating her backpack, I fucking heard glass crunch while she nibbled on it like some wild starved animal. To my surprise though, whatever she was doing was working, the number above her head was raising, I failed my initial judgment, it seems she's a stubborn one. Well, I'll be back soon I'm sure.
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Point of View Change(Death back to Rosie)
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The metalic taste of my own blood mixed with the cloth of my backpack was utterly disgusting, let alone the fact I couldn't pick out the glass from where I bite into, spiting the glass fragments out as I could with as little loss of fabric as possible, I was positive it was working. My energy slowly returned, my world slowly lit up, and the best sign possible happend. Death disappeared, without a word, without a trace. I managed to beat you, you fucking prick. Screaming in joy as I continued to munch on my god forsaken backpack. Not death, but something was embracing me again, a familiar calm feeling.. the feeling.. of slee-