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Will My Blood Ever Run Free?
  • Reads 663
  • Votes 202
  • Parts 12
  • Time 2h 10m
  • Reads 663
  • Votes 202
  • Parts 12
  • Time 2h 10m
Ongoing, First published Jan 02, 2019
Mature
Breathing.Heavy breathing.The pain was too much. It was breaking her. "Help",was all she could get out. But to no avail for it was just a mere whisper. She felt herself fall apart, she knew that there was nothing that could save her, she was a menace and hated by all, she was a torture. She tried. Tried so hard to get these thoughts away from her. She couldn't take it anymore, it was bound to kill her. The blood that trickled down her arm, the blood that was all around her,it was too much.To say it was painful would be an understatement. "No,this isn't blood." She tried to convince herself, but it burned so bad. It penetrated through her skin like acid, it spoiled her flesh and melted her bones. It was a torture to even look at. But these red fluids that poured down her arm wasn't hers, they didn't even belong to her body. They were the fluids of those innocent beings that did nothing wrong. Nothing evil. Nothing harmful. Nothing at all. But yet they lay lifeless in front her with a blade sliced through them. And all she could do was watch them vanish from this world...All she could do was watch an innocent soul, that she shamelessly took the life of......Elevate to the heavens where all the others wait for her demise to enter hell.
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"Kill..." the low whispering voice trailed off into my head. I don't think the strange whispering voice came from anyone in the room. It was too loud; too abnormel; too deadly. Suddenly a cold shiver ran down my back making me scream and cry out for someone, something, anything. I want to be alone, somwhere dark, somewhere safe. My eyes open to see a woman cradling me in her arms. A man with red eyes, tan skin, and blonde hair starred at me. His eyes sunk into my head making me wince. The woman is natuarlly warm and comfortable, but her face is stained with tears mixed with blood on her, once beautiful, face. She smeared some of the blood onto my puffy cheeks with a warm beaten and calloused hand. "You're gonna be okay," she assured me. More tears fell from her eyes. I looked closer into her grayish, I think, eyes. They had evil tucked beneath fear in them. I don't know what she means, yet her words mean the world to me at this very moment: 4 minutes ago, I was born.