Stories and Oneshots with OCs

Untitled part

(Hope u enjoy she's a long one 🌞)((don't mind any grammatical errors they're just being sillay :p))(((I'm going to come up with a title later)))

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"Yura..." said a whisper. Everyone's eyes were covered, hands were bind and tied to chairs. "Yura, are you there?" all to be heard was soft whimpering. Some people were crying, praying for their lives, and some had accepted their fate, whatever that may be. The room was silent except for the soft sobs and the whispers that were echoing from somewhere... somewhere in the distance.

Suddenly, an awful screeching noise sounded at the tall sliding doors opening wide. Light escaped through the blindfolds and strained everyone's eyes who'd been shrouded in darkness for who knows how long. That small whisper, one of the many who were stuck there, frantically whipped her head, trying to get good look at what was happening, but was unable to.

The footsteps of multiple individuals approached. The closer the sounds became, the bigger the pit grew in the girl's stomach, dreading what was to come. Within a moment, everyone's blindfolds were ripped off. She winced, shutting her eyes and looking down while they adjusted to the light.

Once she finally came to, she glanced at the door and saw multiple tall figures, looking over them. They wore long, blood red robes and black and gold masks, silently watching over their scared and confused hostages.

Their leader was very distinguishable. Their mask was adorned with long and curved horns, similar to that of an orgeth's, and they bore the necklace of Dredua's unmistakable emblem. The Crying Griffin.

Through the crowd the hostage tried to spot Yura amongst the chaos, not yet knowing wether to feel relieved or terrified. Her mind flooded with thoughts before the leader stepped forward and towards one of their captives, a middle aged man with a full beard and dark hair. He stared into the soulless eyes of the mask in fear, not ready to accept his fate.

The cloaked figure stood before him and slowly lifted the man's head with a firm grasp. They stared him down, as if to read his thoughts and soul. "I will give you one last chance, and I hope you don't disappoint me. Where is the rebel base? Speak." he stated coldly, in a tone that sent shivers down the girl's spine. Everyone in the room silenced. It was like the entire world had stopped breathing.

Without a moment's hesitation, the man spoke in a desperate and broken voice. "I told you already, I don't know! We don't work with them, you have to believe us!" he pleaded, begged for his life. It was no use. The cloaked figure looked disgruntled at the very least, despite the cold and hard mask not portraying any emotion. With the curt wave of his hand, one of the robed individuals came forward with a large canister filled with unknown contents. The man's eyes widened in fear.

"Wait, no! I don't know, I don't know! I promise! You have to beli─" he was cut off by the masked person pouring a thick liquid down his throat. The man gagged and coughed, choking on the substance, as it burned through his mouth and throat.

The girl was horrified, shutting her eyes and trying her hardest not to vomit. The man had let out an awful, bloodcurdling sound, and the hostages began to panic, crying, screaming and pleading. The liquid had melted through his skin, burning through his flesh and leaving a trail of steam and a foul smell.

He had finally passed, but not after a long and painful death. The leader turned back around and approached another hostage, ready to ask them the same question. The chaos amongst the group only seemed to unravel. There was no way out, they were all going to die.

That was when they could hear the shattering of a window. All heads turned and the room fell silent. No one was there.

The cloaked leader turned, signaling to one of the other figures. They ran over to check it out. Still, nobody was there.