Blood emerged rapidly from the boy's body. It drowned in the eternal ocean of crimson liquid, attempting to cross over the yellow river to the depths of darkness. Although terrified of death, the boy wasn't able to prevent it.
Intense pain shot through his body for a few seconds before his pain receptors tore, leaving behind a puppet of emptiness. The harsh cold of the winter froze his skin, but all he felt was the embrace of a void.
A life of emptiness, a death of loneliness.
"Poor boy," a faint voice entered the boy's ears. His amethyst eyes flashed for a split second before his eyelids shut. Still, he didn't lose complete consciousness.
From the verdant greenery emerged a fairly young lady. Her skin was spotless, and her beauty surpassed the realm of peerlessness. The scent of roses that exuded from her body tickled the boy's nostrils.
Her aroma neutralized the squalid scent that originated from the boy's wounds.