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
To Stand on my Own
An eerie silence descended upon the cathedral, all eyes fixated on the lifeless husk that was once Lord Coufyx. His demise had been so swift, so unexpected, that none of the cultists had time to react. The complete annihilation of his soul had taken less than a single heartbeat.
Before they could recover from their shock, I struggled to one knee, reaching out desperately for Fable. Every nerve in my body screamed in agony, and the darkness at the edge of my vision threatened to consume me. Tears blurred my sight, but it was more than just that, something far worse. Perhaps it was the searing heat that scorched my eyes, or the overwhelming exhaustion and pain, but I couldn't see clearly. It wasn't until I felt Fable's fur envelop me, his presence a tangible comfort, that I knew he was there.