There was nothing. Total emptiness. There was only white. There was light. Then fell drops of black. Diffused did they like ink in water, wispy tails swirling. The light was fading to dark, the white slowly being overtaken by black. An obsidian hand formed, almost as if it were reaching outward only to be pulled back. In the darkness formed faces; all indisputably fixed in anguish. Their screams were loud but silent; the unrelenting wails of a perpetual pain that sought futile alleviation.
From the black was born the red. Distinguished and alluring. It was life, but also was it death. The red seeped from eyeless sockets of tar, and dripped from ashen lips. With the red came sound. Splat! Splat! Splat! It formed into pools beneath black silhouettes that clutched at themselves. Screaming. Always soundlessly screaming.
Red became the sky; became the blood. Black was the humans; black was the creatures of the land. And the white? It was but a pinpoint in the sky of red. Fading. Fading. Fading.
The humans of black tore at each other. Shredding. Tearing. Gnashing. From their mutilations, blood endlessly trickled. Limbs were severed, and heads skipped away from torsos. Squish! Hands dug into flesh, separating torsos with a sickening wetness. Severed were organs, wrought free from shells of flesh. Bleeding throats were clutched, and all around the humans fell. Eventually, not one stood.
From the stillness came a serpentine hiss. This hiss became menacing laughter, deep and dark. A voice bellowed, “Surrender to me your flesh.”
In an instant two pairs of eyes sprang open, both sets miles from each other. There was a boy with hair so dark, it was blue; and a girl with hair of a bright pink. Sweat saturated their bodies as they both simultaneously stared upwards at their ceilings. Their breathing was hard, and whatever clothing adorned them, stuck like a second skin. Immoveable were they in their fright, their hearts banging against cages of bone and muscle.
“A. . . dream,” they spoke, trying to distinguish reality from an overactive subconscious. In the backs of their minds, something told them that was more than an ordinary nightmare.
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Chosen
FanficThe world isn't quite what it seems and Noctis and Lightning find themselves having to navigate a world full of secrets, lies, and deceit. Why do they seem familiar to each other? What is their connection? And ultimately what is their purpose? Toget...
