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
New Magic
"He came back?"
Fyren's face twisted in confusion, but I didn't respond, already succumbing to exhaustion. As I drifted into darkness, I felt his arms tighten around me, lifting me from the ground. Then, everything went quiet.
The next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. There was a bed off to the side, the sheets a tangled mess, as though someone—likely me—had been pulled from them. The likely culprit was curled around me, and I couldn't help but smile as I reached out, idly stroking Fable's fur. His tail wrapped around me like a blanket, my body nestled against his side, head resting on his shoulder.
With him here, I could rest assured this was real life, not another vision meant to trap me. Somehow, I'd survived the night without one.