This is the season before MarkOfCainDean, I changed the ending :3
So you look like Josh Turner (pic above) here, but not him. Go search his sexy deep voice up on youtube
I'm very sorry for the last chapter >•< that was cringy as hecc
Your PoV
White
Everything was white
...and cold
it was so cold
so cold
This was the...best I could find, a body of a man...a dead man
"aHh" I winced as a tried to move my body
I feel my grace wriggling inside of th-my body, I can't heal it now... I'm too weak right now...I need to heal first
Trying to get up on one knee, "w-WhOA" I face planted onto the snow instead.
I roll myself over and look at the grey sky. I raise my arm, even if it hurt, trying to reach for the sky. To my home...well, former home now.
My fingers feel numb now, the smell of dry blood filling my nostrils.
Trying to get up, I was successful this time.
I lean myself on a tree and began looking around.
Just white, every little thing was covered in snow. From the corpse of that deer, to that worndown truck, to that log cabin, to that-
Wait, a log cabin
Maybe I can stay there... 'til my grace heals, at least
I walk towards the cabin, leaning on every tree as my support.
I'm somewhat glad that I found a grown up human instead of a child, even though it had just died a few hours ago I think, based on the stab wounds. Rather than a child's body, it was more capable of dealing with this harsh weather. Which, judging by the amount of light that was quickly diminishing, would get even harsher.
Who am I even talking to...
I believe these are called thoughts.
I never really had any thoughts of my own before. In heaven, we would just work, work and work. It feels like I'm, for once, a...free angel.
I glance at a bush as it rustled
I stare at it as I keep on stumbling my way over to the cabin, which was not far now.
The wooden floor made a creaking sound as I step on it.
Hearing more rustling sound, I look behind me then around.
"(M/n)! (M/n)!"
How-how does someone know my name?, I've only been here for a few minutes. I quickly stumble to the door. Grabbing the door knob, I hear my name being called again. I look around again, What's making that sound?
Walking inside, I quietly close the door behind me
It looked like it've seen better days
There were broken furnitures all around
I grasp at my wounds as they decided that they wanted to be noticed. I slowly sit down, wincing at every interaction of my clothes to my wounds.
Maybe this can work now, I put my hand over a stab wound. Bracing myself, I let my grace flow to my hand.
