Invisible Reaper Dragon (A Reincarnation Story)

(V2) Prologue - The Screams

Hello. Welcome to the start of the second Volume. Now due to me leaving for the military I won't be able to finish or even start writing it past what's been released, but when i'm able to I'll make sure to make it a big surprise :)  

I may hit a point of burnout or maybe writers block somewhere, but I guess that'll be my brain telling me 'Do something else otherwise you will go insane' kind of thing.

Anyways...onto Part 2 of IRD!!

The Screams

They are but echos of the Past:

A past so horrid, so painful, that it costs everything one has for them to just voice it aloud.

The Past is ever so close to the Present, and the Future is but a reminder of ones suffering from the Past.

But in the end...What is Mortality without Suffering?

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There's an unknown (Young) Dragon just out of my reach, and it seemed that neither the King nor the Human Emperor knew either! A figure sat in their chair, leaning their almost non-existent elbows against the table to rest their head on their equally as Skeletal hands. Looking at forwards blankly in thought, Otherwise they would have already sent the creature away, as to not cause unnecessary panic throughout the Kingdom--or even the entire Empire--should word get to the Dragon Emperor himself that one of his kin was in the Human Kingdoms without his knowledge...and a (Young) at that.

I need to get that creature in my grasp. Now. He thought as he refocused on the reality before him. The south was not a friendly place for the living: any that remained when he took over the city nigh a century ago were all but ragged remains of skin and bone, walking around without purpose or drained of their life force constantly by the Daemons of his Empire; the rest were either dead, or under the subservience of a sentient undead like himself.

Vampires. Skorned. Ghoul. It did not matter; if they were sentient or they were able to--in the least--portray their strength in a form that could be understood by others as intelligent, they would be seen to have at least one to as many as ten humans serving them in public. Any that complained were struck down then and there; the others still alive having to pick up the slack, and those of lesser sentience pouncing upon a freshly disposed-of sack of flesh.

To them; food was food, and those that weren't able to feed themselves either sat in eternal suffering wherever it was they had the misfortune of collapsing, or their spirits were unable to keep themselves stable enough to stay in the mortal realm and they were forcibly removed, only to be taken under the control of another and synthesized as energy or power.

Here...here the sound of constant screams of pain or anguish were something that permeated the city. Screams were the sound, the life, that made everything else run--operate, smoothly. Without the constant screams of the unfortunate, the betrayed, the pain of those bearing flesh and blood; without them, this city would be once again the bare ruin of desolate land he'd first come to before making it an Empire of his own.

The forest to the North was just another constant reminder of the goal he had in this life, a goal that was constantly foiled. Stepped On. DeStrOYed by those FucKinG Elves.

'Saviors of Life...Protectors of the Forest.' If only they knew the treachery of the Mortals beyond their territories that defiled each other, and then stabbed them in the back for their own personal gain.

A skeletal hand came to the back under their Night Cloak to softly touch the deep stab wound in their L1 vertebra: another few lines above it cutting the thoracic vertebra in halves, each mark somehow held together by the dark magic coursing through his being. It was but just another reminder of how far those of his past race would go for a taste of power.