(Rewritten in a new book)

Prologue

tw + cw: Blood, acts of violence, use of profanity & mention of murder.

[Rewritten]

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Your head felt like it got split open, your vision was blurry.

You could not see, you couldn't feel anything, not your fingers. Not even your limbs. Your neck aches with searing pain, it constricted your breathing.

What had happened? What happened to let you end up here? In this dark and frigid void?

You shivered.

Your fellow partypoopers had  been all killed in this messed up war, the damned partygoers dared call it fun.

It was certainly not fun when you were running away from partygoer, certainly.

A yellow, blood stained nub was outstretched, like it was reaching for you. It was. You clutched the old fireaxe even harder.

Getting chased into a dead end, your breaths picks up the pace, your heart beats at hundreds of miles a second. The yellow figure closed in from behind, finally whirling around, you gathered the courage to throw your axe down into the partygoer's 'neck'.

One of their nubs came up to block you. Feeling a stinging sensation, you realized albeit too late that the partygoer had sunk its razor sharp, teeth-lined nub to your side.

Noticing that you were distracted, the partygoer took this chance to attack.

You couldn't even scream when your own weapon was used against you, the blade tore through your torso. Which resulted in massive amounts of oynx blood splattering onto the formerly pristine carpet and table tops.

The repetitive nursery ryhme faded when the axe landed square, right onto your neck. You were harshly decapitated, blood covered your frame and the area around you.

The partygoer spared a single glance at your dead body, and off it went. It's bleeding wound on its forearm, was closing up.

You felt everything was just drifting farther, and farther away from your desperate finger tips.

The colorful walls disappear from your vision as everything darkens around you, your body becomes colder by the second. The mesmerizing oynx colored blood spread further away from your corpse.

You were easily murdered, like the friends you'll never see again.

You gazed softly at your calloused hands, your vision was now overwhelmingly clear. You could see the cracks and scars that littered your fingers and palms.

You hadn't noticed that your blue mask was littered with small cracks. Even if you did, you wouldn't have cared. The insides of your very much breathing and living body felt so hollow.

So empty, your joints ached with exhaustion. You didn't expect to be capable of thinking, aside from that, you were so awfully numb.

The transparent water ripples from every little movement you make. It didn't feel warm or cold, yet the air around you was freezing. Puffs of your breath was surrounding your head, like a fog.

The glimpse of a shiny axe brought your attention back to this whole situation. Yeah, you're dead.

Wobbly standing up, you stumbled to the brand new weapon presented before you.

It was double bladed, the wood was smooth, but you couldn't feel that. The numbness was overflowing.

Suddenly light-headed, you promptly passed out. Luckily not on the sharp weapon. That'd be a disaster.

The unknown liquid pooled around you, submerging your limbs into the now steadily cooling water. The fog around your head became heavier. 

Any normal individual stepping into this below freezing void would've been frozen the very second they entered. Yet you're still here. 

What does this mean for your miserable future?

Let's see.