The Forgotten Realm

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I awoke to the sound of battle. War was all around me and all the sounds that came with it. Screams, gun fire, explosions, swords clashing against armor and flesh.

The stench came next. The air was thick with the smell of Iron, sweat and.....Blood. The unmistakable smell of blood was everywhere. 

The world around me was engulfed in it. 

My eyes were the last to awake and what was there to great them were the visions that will haunt me forever. Demons and monsters, Man and beast, heroes and villains fought all around me. Here a man was impaled by the pike of another, there a winged beast sunk its fangs into a screeching demon of many arms. The skies above were not spared from the carnage as aircraft from different eras fought amongst dragons and flying demons and monsters. 

I broke away from the visions above as a werewolf crashed into me. Its fur was caked in blood and only when I broke free from under it did I notice the jagged sword that was impaled into its chest. The sword ripped free from its host, and the wielder became known to me. The wielder was a crazed man. He was covered head to toe in blood and deep gushing wounds but despite this he seemed unhindered. He turned to me and smiled a creepy smile.

He charged at me when I tried to run but I didn't make it far, he grabbed a hand-full of my long red hair. I screamed and begged him to stop, I tried to tell him I was lost, that I had no idea where I was or who I was. This seemed to only fuel his blood lust as he threw me to the ground and jumped over me. He lifted his jagged sword up high. 

His smile faded as he came to see my blood red eyes. He quickly brought his sword down upon me and was surprised to see that it found nothing but the blood soaked ground. His expression of surprise turned to shock as he sensed me behind him. His expression didn't change as his head fell to the ground, which was soon followed by his body.

I looked at the headless stump of his neck, I couldn't not look at it. The blood oozing out made rise my abominable appetite. I took to the neck, slurping up all that I could. I feasted until something incredible happened. 

A great shadow covered the battlefield, a shadow that I only saw as the beasts and man fought there seemingly pointless gore filled battle. The great shadow shrunk into a tall cloaked figure. He wielded a scythe that reeked of blood and evil. He unmistakably was the reaper of souls, the one who took the souls of the damned to their final resting place.

He was the end.

He was Death and he has come to welcome me home. 

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⏰ Last updated: Feb 03, 2014 ⏰

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