A reason to live ⟪English Ver.⟫〖FGOD!ERROR〗

Prologue

IMPORTANT TO READ:

This story will have a version in Spanish and one in English, both will be published and updated at the same time, please be careful with that.

I don't speak English as the main language, so if someone reads a grammatical or orthographic error, I would appreciate it if you would tell me.

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He fell to the floor, keeping a trembling grip on that dust-covered garment, which slipped off this as if nothing, leaving him surrounded by what was once a skeleton. He looked at the sides, hoping that everything was a joke. Then his eyes turned to focus on that blue scarf, then on the sides again.

He opened his mouth, wanting to scream, curse and insult. He hated this, this feeling. He hated it; he doesn't want to feel it again.

How is it possible that something so beautiful be transformed into something so horrendous? Was this what those whom he called lucky for having a soul felt?

He hated it. He didn't want one anymore, ever.

He pressed his grip, sinking his face into that scarf, the only thing that remained of him. He couldn't even have his body to give him a burial somewhere nice, and most of the dust lay scattered and lost among all the snow. There was nothing left of him now, nothing more than a damn scarf.

He smiled when he heard a portal opening near of him.

He tried to get up, but his legs did not respond.

He tried to speak, act as if nothing had happened, but his voice did not come out.

A skeleton of golden clothes came out of that brilliant fissure, his hands on his chest, an indescribable grief in his eyes, beside him the God of Death, who brought a neutral face, not knowing how to express what he felt at that moment.

It was like a bucket of cold water for him.

This wasn't a nightmare, it wasn't a lie. They were there to comfort him, they were there to tell him how sorry they were, how much it hurt them.

Instability was seen in his eyes, it couldn't be true, and he didn't want to believe it. The newcomers approached him, wanting to let him know that he would always be by his side, even if he couldn't see him, but they couldn't speak, they fell silent as soon as they opened their mouths.

How could they explain that? How could they tell him that the only one who made him feel a real emotion was no longer there, that he would never return?

The guardian of dreams raised one of his arms, placing it on the other's shoulder to show him that he wasn't alone, that he had people to go to release his sorrows. But he didn't want them, he wanted him, he wanted him back. He wanted to wake up receiving those caresses that he loved so much, he wanted to open their eye sockets and see that skeleton holding his face with his hands, smiling at him in a unique and warm way, in that way that caused him a jumble of emotions that led him to determine that he loved him with all his being. He wanted to hug him tightly, thanking to all the existing things that he was still at his side, enjoying every second as if it were the last.

He loved him, thanks to him he learned to love and understood that there was no feeling more beautiful than that.

He just wanted to see his smile one last time.

But his desire was never to be fulfilled, because the love of his life no longer existed.

His vision clouded, his breathing quickened, he felt a terrible pain all over his body. He began to tremble, holding the scarf up to his chest. He let out quiet, broken whimpers, which soon increased in intensity, becoming sobs.

He leaned forward, allowing the tears to finally fall from their eye sockets. He looked at the other two out of the corner of his eye, waiting with his last hint of hope that they smile at him, saying that it was all a trick and that the love of his life awaited him at home, to be told that he only hallucinated, that he did not see him turn into dust in front of his eyes. Instead, he was only greeted with faces that expressed pain, they were two mourning skeletons.

He screamed so loudly that he lost his voice. He cried so hard that there were no more tears to shed. The two skeletons that accompanied him had to hold his arms when he began to hit and scratch himself, asking any mystical figure that was watching him to kill him at that moment. And when he finally could speak, he screamed again, he was destroyed, his whole world had collapsed.

The one who taught him the best feeling of all, was so brazen that he did not want to leave without showing him the worst experience he could experience.

He had no reason to continue.

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⟪NOTES⟫

Story based on the concept of "Forced god of destruction" of harrish6, all the credits of the aspects related to this concept go to Harrish.

Fate & Destiny↷ harrish6
Error↷Crayon Queen
Ink↷Myebi
Nightmare↷Jokublogs

[All the characters used in this story belong to their respective creators]

   ⟪INITIAL CLARIFICATIONS⟫

↣Error is forced to exercise his destructive role.

↣Ink and Error are cataloged as "Gods" in their maximum expression, even reaching immortality. Nightmare and Dream are "Semi-Gods", being able to touch them with respect to several senses, but being in an even smaller category; They are very powerful and almost impossible to kill, but they can also die. The inhabitants of Reapertale are common Gods, because they depend completely on their AU, unlike the four mentioned above.

↣Fate and Destiny are divine presences, getting to completely overcome Ink and Error. They are presences that are on the plane outside the reality of the Multiverse.

↣The personalities will not be canonical, but I'll make an effort so that at least something is maintained, I'm sorry.

⟪CONTENT⟫

↷InkError/ErrorInk
↷NightError/Errormare
↷Physical abuse
↷Psychological abuse
↷Depression
↷Suicidal thoughts

(As you can see, there is very sensitive content, so reading this story is under your own responsibility)

『✿-Cxnni-❀』