Death's Awaiting
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You never know how easy it really is to murder a person, a human being. To see them fall to their knees before their body collapses to the ground. Watching their little frail heart struggle as it tires to pump more blood through the veins. Watching as the life slowly drained from their eyes until they became dull and dark. Hearing them take their last dying breath, hearing them say their last dying words. "Why?" They usually breathe out. Their confused little minds, trying their hardest to put the puzzle pieces together. As if there was even a reason on why, in particular , they we're chosen to be killed. "I don't know." I would always respond, even though most of them never got to hear me even finish my sentence. My voice would always have the same coldness and harshness that could freeze water at an instant. What I told them was true. It's not like I specifically picked them, they just...happened to be there. Nothing special, no grudges against them. They all just happen to die at my hands. It's not like I had a choice. To murder them or not. It was never a choice. And it's not like I searched for them. They came to me.
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The experiment.
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.Concluida
The corner of his mouth tilts upward slightly. I smile again. A smile!? A tiny one, but still. "Hm. So I got you to smile, that's progress, yeah? Can I get your name now?" I ask, swinging my feel a little. He shakes his head shyly, his mouth not moving at all. Geez! Why do I want to hear this dude talk so much? "Okay, that's fine. I can give you a nickname." I offer happily. He looks up from his book, raising his eyebrows. I just stare for a moment. He has nice eyes. Pretty brown chocolate orbs. They remind me so much of....... "Teddy." He shakes his head immediately, frowning. "What, why not? You remind me of my old teddy bear. He was a good listener and he didn't talk much..... just like you." I say softly, tilting my head. He continues to shake his head. I fold my arms, leaning back in my seat. "Yeah, it's definitely sticking. Teddy.....It has a nice ring to it, yeah?" He sighs, the first sound I have ever heard him make. "No." . . . *Jordan* Teddy!? Seriously!? She gave me a fucking NICKNAME!? What the hell does this girl want!? I stuff my hands into my pockets, walking down the busy street. Forget about her. She's just a annoying pretty girl, she'll go away. Everybody does. She HAS to go away. *Spoiler alert*: she doesn't. Don't get close to people or they'll end up getting hurt. That's my mindset. I've been through enough of that. This girl doesn't belong in my world anyway. She's too innocent. *Mature content* {Just a quick update, I am basically rewriting the story. I wrote it when I was in 8th grade and it makes me cringe every time I try to go back and edit it so keep in mind that it'll get better}
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