Traitor

LETTURE 8
Voti 0
Parti 1
Tempo <5 mins

LETTURE 8
Voti 0
Parti 1
Tempo <5 mins

Per adulti

beast control death demon fear pain split

Think of the voices in your head. The deadly ones. The ones trapped by fear and morals. What if you lost that control? What if those voices came out?


* means different personality's perspective 

^ means different timeTutti i diritti riservati

beast control death demon fear pain split

Tabella dei contenuti

Chapter 1
lun, feb 18, 2019

1 parte

Chapter 1
lun, feb 18, 2019

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Death lingers and revolves in a natural form, a residual being who can see your dreams, nightmares and if it so wishes the common daydreams of mortals. Dreams spill into nightmares so easily that the shift can spur the unknown. What creates the bridge between thought and conciousness? Death is meaning and silence. The mortal path always leads to the same end. Overlapping and intermingling infinitely till life meets death. Though in some instances it's not as simple as that. What kind of life can one lead when death is around every corner? Glimpses into the past, present, and even the future are all tied to death. Can you outrun death even when it licks at your very heels? Who will it take next?

[completed!] Under editing! Man kind, invincible and scared of nothing. We were the superior race, and we revelled in it. We all thought we were the ones at the top of the food chain, completely untouchable. However it was like I said, we 'thought' we were. In the darkness lurks a creature like no other, that prays upon us. Hunting us! Waiting for just the right moment to strike, to knock us off of our high pedestal and back onto the ground. I know this because I have seen this beast. Been face to face with it, battled toe to toe with this creature, fighting for what was left of my life, and I was losing! - - - - - - - - "Watch out!" I scream in alert, as a hard thudding sound pierced our ears as something slammed into our side of the car, sending a sensation of dizziness as the car spun of of control. The screeching tires dragged along the floor, with the faint stench of the irony liquid dripping from my head as it all grew still...

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Death's Scars

Death lingers and revolves in a natural form, a residual being who can see your dreams, nightmares and if it so wishes the common daydreams of mortals. Dreams spill into nightmares so easily that the shift can spur the unknown. What creates the bridge between thought and conciousness? Death is meaning and silence. The mortal path always leads to the same end. Overlapping and intermingling infinitely till life meets death. Though in some instances it's not as simple as that. What kind of life can one lead when death is around every corner? Glimpses into the past, present, and even the future are all tied to death. Can you outrun death even when it licks at your very heels? Who will it take next?

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