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
Soul Gaze
The Undead Hero's question set me back in my seat, my tail twitching in surprise. "What am I?" I repeated dumbly.
Connor nodded, gripping the table tightly. His black eyes, usually shrouded in darkness, held a glint of nervousness. "Millions," he continued, his grip on the table tightening. "You wade through the blood of millions. How could anyone cause so much death? And yet," he paused, his gaze shifting beyond my flesh and into the depths of my soul. "You are as pure as a child."
I tilted my head, idly raising a hand and stroking my horn. "I'm not sure I understand. What do you mean?"