The Forsaken Hero
I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath. My fingers were numb and cold, my arm aching where the needle pierced the vein. Something clattered onto the pavement, and I looked down to see the needle. It had slipped out of my hand. Nothingness swirled around me, bringing the first sense of peace I'd felt in my short, miserable life. There was no one to miss me, and no one I would miss. There's always someone else to beat or rape. The regulars would move on quickly. I died. Only...wasn't death supposed to be dark? And since when did 'nothingness' have so many gods? Discord: https://discord.gg/PX3xqJdZMY
A Field of Flowers
I awoke slowly, curled tightly in Fable's encompassing embrace. My room had a bed, of course, but I found it impossible to sleep without Fable's deep, rhythmic breathing and his silky fur tickling my face. His coat felt particularly soft and warm, and, still half-asleep, I nuzzled my cheek against his stomach, slowly building motivation to leave his embrace.
At long last, I forced myself to move, breathing out softly as I stretched my arms overhead. An unexpected chill crept across my extended arms, the cool air stealing down my skin and seeping into my core, sending a wave of goosebumps across my flesh. The year had longed moved into summer, yet this felt more like a brisk spring morning, an unwelcome echo of a season long past. Shivering, I dove back into Fable's fur, breathing out a sigh of relief as his warmth surrounded me.