Just Stories That I Write

𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢

𝚃𝚆: 𝚒𝚍𝚔, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝. 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍. 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚙 𝚘𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝.
►𝙵𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍◀

The Villain remained laying down on the ground, breathing ragged, as they stared up at the what seemed to be the darkening sky. A pool of blood forming around them, as they remained still, not trying to do anything or hoping that they would be saved.

There was no way they could be saved now like the other times.

They continued to lay on the ground, bleeding, and waiting for it all to end. Death was inevitable. Despite them managing to dodge it multiple times as a Villain. Nothing could save them now.

Soon, a dark silhouette appeared by the Villain's side, wearing a black coat with the hood on and a scythe in their hand.

The Grim Reaper or more simple, Death.

As the silhouette closed in on the Villain, the scythe in the hand was slowly lowering and inching closer to the Villain, ready to take their soul and lead it to the afterlife. But no, the Villain still tried to get away. Trying to get themselves away from the Grim Reaper, anywhere where they could get their wounds cleaned and patched. But to no avail. They failed. A groan leaving their mouth.

The Grim Reaper moved and got their scythe's blade right above the Villain's heart, speaking "I came here for your soul. And you shall give it now. There is no way that you will slip between my fingers again."

The Villain tried to speak but all that came out was blood. Not able to form a single word. They sighed, body relaxing, as they seemed to admit their fate.

...The hero watched from afar as it seems that they had actually killed their own... Lover... The one that they loved with their whole heart and soul was gone. All because of them... Tears falling down from their eyes and onto their cheeks as they watched, their eyes turning red from crying.