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
Before the Banquet
After a moment of hesitation, she returned my embrace, her arms gently encircling my frail shoulders, her fingers soothingly stroking my long, crimson hair. Sobs wracked my body, wave after wave, as I wept into her shoulder. All the pain, darkness, and anguish I'd kept bottled up poured out of me, a torrent so intense that I barely noticed the awkwardness with which she held me.
Finally, she laid her hands on my shoulders and drew me away, staring at me deeply. Her familiar face was tinged with unease, and I felt a heavy lump forming in my chest.