In Spirit Not Body
- Reads 447
- Votes 14
- Parts 3
Ongoing24m
Last published Wed, Jun 11, 2014
The day I died I was wearing two unmatched poka dotted socks.
One had a hole where my big toe breathed fresh air, while the other had a bright pink covering.
I remember because as I had been walking out the door to school my mother had scolded me. She had apparently read online that guys almost always noticed a girls feet first.
Well, mom I guess I don’t have to worry about that anymore.
Who's going to look at a dead girl’s feet?
Of course though, life was just completely stubborn into leading me on to the afterlife happy and bright lights. Where I could live peacefully and in bliss.
Yeah, no.
I was left void less, remaining in spirit but not body.
Watching everyone live, while I was dead .
Watching everyone forget me.
Watching police try to find me.
Watching the man who killed me go after another victim.
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They used my vulnerability against me. They used that weapon, to make me accept their stupid idea. And I of course, accepted it, I didn't even know what they were going to do. They tugged and poked and even shoved their disgusting finger in your wound, just to see you cry. To see you change. No pitty in their eyes. They just continue. They drag you around with metal chains, hit you and turn you into a experiment. But I had enough of the tugging, the clawing, the moaning, the crying and pleading for them to stop, but simply feeding them with our pain. They turned me into something, that neither do they know what I am. Their afraid of me, of my reflexes, my strength. I killed a lot of them. They say I have a cold heart, that I don't feel nothing. That's why they call me: Death -----------------------------------------************************************--------------------------------------------- Death. A teen girl, pitch black hair, black eyes, white skin. Her height is 5'8. People are scared of her, not just because of her strength but because of they way she kills. She lived in this hell hole, where they take her to rooms. Examine. Fight. She knows she won't be able to entertain them for long. She decides to run. Soul. Brown hair as mud, blue eyes as the sky. Hight 6'2. Tanned and toned body. Death's best friend in the hell hole they're in, he's as cold as she is. But shows a bit of sympathy. Well... More than her at least. He's been there for her, ever since she entered this place of crap. They're the two most feared. As some people say, they're a perfect couple. Killing. Fighting. Cold hearted creatures. Also known as D and S. Why? That's what your going to find out, joining this adventure with D and S.
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