Dead Angels for a Prince Ghost

Chapter 1 : Blood stained memories

Your name is Eridan Ampora.

You just woke up and you have no idea where you are. You can't remember. Above you, the sky is of a soft mix of blue and pink, fluffy clouds scattered in. You can hear the deep sound of a bell in the distance, and the faint flap of feathered wings.

Feathered wings...

Suddenly, numerous atrocious smells assault your nostrils, all at the same time. Burned flesh, dry blood, guts, death. You can feel your stomach clench with what you assume to be something between fear and disgust. You sit up, your breath quickening. Your memories come back to you one after another, and each time they fill your mind you quiver violently. You remember yourself pressing Ahab's Crossairs in your hands, you remember loud screechings, you remember white distorted things diving from the sky toward you, you remember a metallic taste in your mouth...

The angels. You remember them.

They found you again and you can recall yourself shooting them, one by one, more lifeless body hiting the ground at every shot in a steaming pile of feathers. Their hollow corpses are still surrounding you, and the one that are still alive seem to be no longer here. You automatically bring your knees to your chest at this sight though, like to try to protect yourself from the motionless carcasses around you. Those winged bastards were freaking the hell out of you, but the feeling growing in your chest right now is way stronger than what you felt before. Undefinable. Not normal. You don't understand. You peek around with a puzzled and anxious look, trying harder to remember. You can feel your eyes water, and in no time, a stream of pale violet tears is flowing down your cheeks without your comprehension. It's definitely not normal.

NOT NORMAL.

you stands up quickly, stumbling, your heart throbbing in your rib cage. Or at least it feels like it is. You're not even sure anymore. Probably not. Surely just a fake feeling, as inexistant as you're now.

Because Eridan Ampora stopped existing.

At your feet lays your dead corpse in a puddle of dark violet. You can recall everything now. The angels were too numerous and the eventually got you. You wince, squeezing your eyes shut as the horrid last images of your life pass through your mind. You are now only a translucid pale copy of the kid you used to be.

You're a ghost.

You're gone.