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The Blood. [Eridan Ampora x Reader] (Vulgar language) {Apocalypse.}

The Blood. [Eridan Ampora x Reader] (Vulgar language) {Apocalypse.}

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Oct 10, 2016
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Fiction
Fantasy
It was the apocalypse. You were a small human, but you were 18. You disliked your height. 5 foot. Yep. Your short as hell. You have a greatsword passed down to you throughout the centuries (REMEMBER ME FOR- cough back to description) You were walking around, attacked by one of the creatures, they were called Bloods. Walked like humans, looked like wolves, as savage as sharks. It was trying to bite you. You didn't like that, because you would turn into one of them then, your body morphing, bones snapping and reforming, all you would hear is your shrieks turning to distorted warbles. How do you know this? Easy. Your friends turned. You couldn't bring yourself to kill any of them in which had the mark on their head that only you could see for some reason. This one was one of them. You shrieked for help. You put up your sheathed greatsword in front of you, it being hard cause it held you down. Suddenly the weight was gone. You looked around, only to see it being impaled by a harpoon. You scrambled over to it. It was dead. Your friend was dead.
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A place where true love expires, good people get fired and beings are nothing but dust. Where stalkers are heroes, society makes zeroes and madness is not in the crust. Some people are killers, and that's just the pillars of what is essentially rust. When you feel you are mad, but that isn't so bad in a world that is oh so unjust. They'll kill you by car, or from quite afar in a world where all life is fleeting. Don't try to protect, you'll just end up wrecked, for you know their hearts are not beating. They'll kill you my sweet, and not drop a beat, for my story is only just heating. Power means all, even more for the small, but power has a habit of retreating. The bodies mount up, many lives will breakup, as I'm here to just tell a story. Don't look in the hill, though it is quite a thrill, I've heard it can get quite gory. Don't play with the heart, and don't think you're too smart, or you'll die with none of the glory. All are mad from the start, but you played your part, in the world of pure purgatory. Alas look a ghost, be careful you're not toast, you must want to see what I see. Society is ruthless, protection is fruitless, for in madness is when you are free. Perfection is dead, from the wounds we all bled, a cruel fate we did not foresee. While outsiders are safer, if only by a wafer, you can still hear them utter a plea. Now my story is frightening, but oh so inviting, so come now and give it a whirl. I can promise some danger, so don't be a stranger, watch now - we will see it unfurl.

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