𝔏𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔈𝔩𝔳𝔢𝔰

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔶-𝔉𝔦𝔳𝔢

"I would rather die than become a creature like you." I say. 

"Weak words baby brother." Malachi charges swiftly.

I try to run but he grabs my shoulder. He throws me down. I wince. He pins me on the ground. His hand feels stronger than iron and I smell the darkness from him. The foul smell of death and decay. He moves his finger down my neck. His eyes look different. More angry. A hateful fire was burning in them, one that I can see more clearly.

"You are really starting to make me angry brother. I've been generous but..." He takes out a knife. 

I try to push him off of me, but he's pinned down to me. The knife looks to be made out of obsidian. It had this black smoke emanating off of it. I see it dripping something. Is that... blood? I start growing fearful. A sense of fear drifts over me.

"This is going to feel like one of the worst pains you ever felt, but you'll survive. As I have." He pulls his cloak down. 

I look up and I see a knife wound. It's an old knife wound.

"Is that... your blood?" I ask.

"No... it's her. You know of whom I speak." Malachi says.

I jump. An image flashes inside my mind. He jabs the knife into my chest. I let out a scream.