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
The Grip of Justice
I awoke to someone shaking me. The motion was soft and gentle, like a ripple on a pond, but even that sent waves of agony searing through me, scattering my already bleary thoughts. My tail quivered uncontrollably as I curled into a ball, shrinking from the hand that brought me such pain.
"P-please!" I whimpered. My throat was bloody and raw, like I'd been screaming. It made sense, considering the pain I was in, but why did I hurt so much? Not a single cohesive thought or memory made it through the fog caused by the fiery ache in my shoulder, and I was left afraid and confused.
"Xiviyah, get up! Please!"
The voice was familiar, but strained and desperate. A memory flickered through my mind: a girl with short brown hair, piercing green eyes, and a teasing smile. Korra.