The Archons Warmonger
  • Reads 35
  • Votes 3
  • Parts 2
  • Time 9m
  • Reads 35
  • Votes 3
  • Parts 2
  • Time 9m
Ongoing, First published Apr 06, 2019
Through all the battlefields and wars, through the mass graves and genocides, and over the rubble of fallen worlds, I have killed. I am a Warmonger, a weapon of decimation and chaos, bred and trained for the singular purpose of serving my order. Until she came along. An Archon, practically a god. Flawless, cunning, deadly, and beautiful, not of this world. Begging me for help in her weakest hour, the promise of a true mission on her lips. Of an enemy so ancient and powerful, it threatens the universe. How could I say no? I am The Archons Warmonger.
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The experiment.

18 parts Complete Mature

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.