[html]  |
mall-lowercase; font-size:8pt;">ooc;
-nomnom- Swifteh! 8D
mall-lowercase; font-size:8pt;">ic;
Sleep….it tugged at him with the promise of replenished strength, but he was afraid to accept its wickedly tempting offer, afraid that it would turn into an eternal slumber. Despite the fact that it was what he wanted, what he’d been wishing for, the end to his pathetic existence…he was afraid. ”I don’t want to die…” Wasn’t that what everyone thought at their last moment? Yet, he was so lethargic, his body nothing but a deadweight. He could hear a voice and there was….light? Corsair opened his eyes slowly, aware of how heavy his eyelids suddenly were. He was so sick of this unhealthy lifestyle, but he couldn’t seem to snap out of it. The blurry images were starting to focus themselves and realization crept in, albeit at a snail’s pace. Corsair could see her clearly now, the inky blackness of her fur and the vivid red irises. It was an almost cruel joke, how her colors represented the stereotype of Death’s, yet he was glad that she wasn’t. Anxiety hit him just about as soon as relief did. If he wasn’t dead, then she’d be affected. Tawny golden eyes widened in alarm and he tried to snarl, but all that came out was a ragged, feeble whisper. ”Stay away! Don’t…come close. I’m…fine.” Corsair tried to move, to stand up and melt away like he always did, but his attempts were in vain. His body refused to obey him and he was infused with a growing sense of betrayal. After all this time, there would be more pain, more bloodshed, and he would feel the guilt for it all.
Again, he’d re-live the hell of having regret chew at him, corroding his soul. What’s wrong with me? There has to be something wrong…or else this wouldn’t have happened. The old questions would gain new meaning once more and the misery would come back tenfold. He couldn’t live through that again. Not a second time. In spite of all this, he felt a slice of joy from the panic creeping in at the edges of his mind. It’d been too long since he’d talked to someone, to have his words directed to a substantial being other than himself. So he was glad, even if it only a warning. Corsair had felt so lost…so alone during his solitary journey. He’d talked to himself of course, but that wasn’t the same, and he’d sometimes wonder if he was slowly going insane, and whether or not that was his punishment. Could you have a punishment for simply being alive? At one point, he’d have laughed at the idea, seen it as an amusing statement and nothing more, but now he was seriously wondering. After all, from the moment you were born….no, before you were even born, nature constantly tried to kill you off, so why not a torturous verdict that kept you alive, but literally in a living hell? It would make sense wouldn’t it? In any case, if something like that did exist, Corsair was fairly sure he was a victim of it.
|
|
[/html]
|
