When the game becomes reality (Rewrite!)

When the game becomes reality (Rewrite!)

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WpMetadataNoticeSon yayınlanan Çar, Nis 3, 2024
Welcome to the official rewrite! I finally managed to get started on it! Enjoy! ------------------- With an annoyed grumble he turned on his side, attempting to block out the light with a pillow or Kristin's hair, but nothing changed. In fact, Kristin wasn't even laying next to him. He almost whined and blindly reached around trying to find her. She never got up before him, at least not without waking him up first, either on purpose or accident. The only times she leaves him sleeping is when she gets up early for a trip to meet with her family or friends, and even then Phil still gets up so he can kiss her goodbye. Reaching around the bed one more time, he noticed that it felt... off. Almost prickly. And the mattress was rough too. Without really wanting to, he started to blink his eyes open, rubbing the sleep out of them as he yawned. Only to immediately freeze and squint at what was in front of him. Was that... grass? Slowly lowering his hand, he started looking around, pushing himself up to sit. He was sitting in the middle of a grassy field. A good distance away he could see a river, behind it some trees. When turning around, he noticed another river, boxing him in. "What the fuck..." He stood up and turned in slow circles, still not understanding what the fuck is happening. The river rushed by on all sides, forming a little island in the middle. An island he was standing on.
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#932
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PHANTASM SERIES BOOK FIVE ---- Tryst (noun): a private romantic rendezvous between lovers, "a moonlight tryst". ---- Your eyes drifted upwards catching onto the glint of the sword that had saved you and following the curve of the blade upwards until you came to a knarled hand, with dirt under the fingernails. You followed the arm upwards until you reached his face - partly obscured underneath a green and white striped hat. You were able to catch onto blue eyes and the scruff of a beard underneath a mop of blonde hair though. What drew your attention most though, was the crow's wings behind him, flared out and glinting by the light of the sword. You hadn't even heard him swoop down for the approach. For someone who hadn't been seen in over a century, the Angel of Death looked young... too young. But then he was spinning away, wings flapping behind him so that he hovered over the ground as he sliced through anything that came too close for comfort. Even the skeletons a ways away weren't safe from his flames when their zombie counterparts came staggering too close. Soon enough, the dark forest was alight with burning undead creatures, providing a light source for you to stagger up to your feet as the Angel slid his sword back into it's scabbard. You weren't expecting him to round on you like he did, fire in his eyes. "What the hell are you doing?"

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