Author_of_Fate

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 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?

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The Forsaken Hero

Elise gave me a long, searching look, and nodded. "I'll do my best."

"Constance, get over here!" Luke called, drawing his sword.

The Apostle of Swords picked the white-horned demonkin up, cradling her gently and jogging over to us. It was only a few steps, but he panted as he laid her in Luke's arms.

"Don't worry," Luke said softly, picking a strand of hair off her sweat-soaked forehead.

Elise's golden light filled the room again. The curse around Evla's soul was thick and foul, hissing as the fate magic penetrated its depths. The demonkin's soul shivered as the two forces struggled for dominance. She squirmed in Luke's arms, whimpering against his chest.

A Role to Play